 HeadGirlMC | Treddie & Trixiver <3 | Copy Girl | Katie's Ickle Minion | I love YOU more
You’d have thought that living in this flat for however many months it had been since graduation that this pair had got themselves together and bought furniture. And yet, as was evidenced by the large box that was being crudely levitated up the stairs that led to their home, they had been sleeping this entire time on a mattress in the centre of the floor. The arrangement had been fine, Fynley didn’t sleep much when he should have and could find a questionably comfortable spot anywhere to kip when the fatigue hit, but with the added funds they’d earned from an unauthorised busking session at a recent Hogsmeade event it felt like the right time as any to finally invest in a bed frame. A decent one at that, not one of those ratty old ones that would feel more at home in the junk shop downstairs with that strange bloke and his pet flea. Honestly he had questioned the position of their flat several times before signing the lease but as Joseph had insisted that he didn’t want to live above the tattoo parlour, this was their only other option.
Independent living had been relatively uneventful to this point. It had mainly been used as a place to sleep in between shifts at work, Joseph at university and whatever other live music event they managed to squeeze into their schedules but it was home and Fynn was quite proud of the fact it was all theirs, lack of furniture and all (although he’d successfully managed to squeeze a drumkit in the corner, he knew where his priorities sat). Plus it was a bit of a kick in the teeth to his parents that he was thriving without their intervention.
Fumbling around in his pocket once he had reached the top of the stairs, he quickly remembered that his keys had been left on the kitchen countertop safe in the knowledge that Joseph likely had his. “Throw me your keys, will you?” He called over the box to wherever his boyfriend had found himself.
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