Super

70. team

"All right, this is the last of the lot," Taeyong announced, setting down the cardboard box on the floor.

It rattled when he put it down to hard, making him wince. Taeyong straightened, hoping there hadn't been anything breakable in there.

"Already?" a muffled voice asked. Jaemin's head popped out from inside the doorway of an adjacent room, a lollipop stick sticking out of one corner of his mouth. "Gee, seventy hours do go by fast," he spoke around it.

"No need to be sarcastic," Taeyong muttered, picking his way among the boxes. "Get ready, they should be here soon."

"Sarcastic? Who, me?" Jaemin asked, smiling playfully. He stepped out of the doorway, looking with interest at the piles of cardboard boxes. "If only Taemin had been here, we could have set everything up much faster."

"I'm sure Taemin has more important things to do," Mark said, emerging from another room. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair mussed from the time he had had to dust cobwebs out of it. Sticking his head into old musty-smelling wardrobes had been a mistake. "Aren't we doing the furniture today?"

"Later," Taeyong promised, standing among the scattered boxes of varying sizes. "We only have a few minutes before the others show up, and you two aren't even dressed yet. Jaemin, don't make me regret inviting you."

Jaemin squealed in excitement, hopping over a smaller box to get to the blue-haired man and almost slipping in the piles of sawdust. "You won't regret it, I promise. I'll be on my best behavior."

Taeyong eyed him sternly. "You better be. Now, get dressed. And for god's sake, finish that lollipop and comb your hair. It looks like you haven't washed it for days."

Jaemin frowned, carding his sticky fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end to resemble cotton candy. "What do you mean? It looks fine."

The man sighed, waving him away.

Mark waved him over, gesturing to the huge art display he had propped up against one wall of the living room. "What do you think of this one, dad?"

Taeyong scrutinized the painting, looking at the swirl of cold colors and how they went surprisingly well with the cool mint shade of the walls. "Pretty good," he said, and Mark grinned proudly before going back in the room to get the others. Then Taeyong realized what the boy had called him, and blinked, opening his mouth—then thought better of it. Smiling slightly, he shook his head.

"I can't believe we're going to be roommates!" Mark called from inside the room, sounding sufficiently elated. His excitement about the moving hadn't faded over the past month. "I mean, like, not literally, of course, but—you know."

"Yeah, I know," Taeyong murmured, still smiling.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of gonna miss that old shack," Jaemin said, appearing from the bathroom, now dressed. Taeyong was mildly surprised at how quickly he had dressed up, but didn't think too much of it. When excited about something, Jaemin had a speed rivalling that of Taemin. The pink-haired boy looked up, fixing his lapels. "The creaking stairs and cramped space used to be annoying, but I'd kind of gotten used to them over so many years."

"Well, you can still go back there," Taeyong said. "Save me some money."

"Uh, no." Jaemin skipped back to the bathroom.

Just then, the front door of their new apartment was kicked open, revealing a man standing in the doorway with a massive grin and the air of a showman. "Uncle Kai's in the house!" he announced, spreading his hands dramatically. "Where are the good little kids?"