╭── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

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Fletcher and Everett are rudely awoken by a cacophony of booming footsteps, scraping furniture, and loud voices-- telltale signs that there were new humans moving into the apartment. They've done this dance a few times now, over the years. It wasn't necessarily common, but in the 5-or-so years they'd been living in the walls of this apartment, a couple tenants had come and gone.

The moving-in process was ridiculously obnoxious to the borrowers; after their last home, they'd learned to build their nooks in the walls instead of the floors. It came as sort of a relief, because they'd been stuck borrowing from other apartments in the complex while theirs remained uninhabited. This meant long trips, and inconsistent routine-- things that caused Fletcher a lot of anxiety.

The overall-wearing brother stayed home, tending to their nook, repairing or making clothes, or preparing food, while Everett took the long haul to go borrowing. He was usually gone for nearly a day at a time. So, the idea that there would be Beans in their apartment after three long months was actually a good thing.

Still, the rough wake-up is enough to kick the twins into overdrive, leaping out of their beds in their shared room. They quickly get dressed, and Everett rushes out into the walls to get information on what's happening outside. Fletcher waits inside, pacing and chewing on his fingernails.

When Everett reaches a carefully hidden entrance into the inside of a wall vent, he approaches the grate quietly, peeking through. First, he tries to identify the new tenants-- a near impossible task, because there are at least five Beans in the living room of the apartment. He really, really hopes that not all of them are moving in, though he supposes since it's only a two bedroom apartment, that wouldn't make sense.

Well, there had been those two couples that lived here before-- a total nightmare-- so it could be up to four...

Everett tries to listen to the conversations, desperate to get any sort of insight to report back to his brother to ease his anxiety.

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RJ, Milo, and three of their friends start unloading the moving van, dragging in furniture and boxes, chatting the whole time. It's harrowing work, and it takes hours. Once everything's inside, boxes strewn about and furniture vaguely where it's supposed to be, they all settle in the living room.

The boys had offered their friends beer and pizza as a thanks, the cans and pizza boxes spread out across the coffee table as they gather around it. RJ and Milo sit on the loveseat, while their friends sit on boxes.

"Y'all got a lotta shit," one of their friends laughs, taking a drink from their beer can.

"Yeah, I didn't realize you had so many clothes, RJ," another teases.

RJ rolls his eyes, but his lips are turned up just slightly at the corners. He sinks against the back of the worn, brown loveseat, his black and purple bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat. It had been a hot day, mixed with the physical exertion of moving. He picks at his black, cut-off sleeveless muscle tee, flapping it to get the airflow moving through it.

Milo, beside him, is sprawled out with no consideration for RJ's personal space-- as per usual-- his light blue t-shirt darkened in some places with sweat. His blonde hair is even wilder than usual, the roots damp and the humidity making it look too puffy.

"God, it's so hot," he whines dramatically, his arm thrown over his face.

Their friends laugh in agreement, and they chat for a few minutes, finishing their food and drink, before one of them finally stands up. The others take it as their cue to follow, and RJ and Milo stand to say their goodbyes.

"Thanks again for the help!" Milo says cheerfully, giving each of the three friends a hug. "And thanks for taking the moving truck back for us! I owe ya!"

RJ simply lifts his hand in a passive wave, and shuts the door behind everyone as they call out various 'bye, RJ's and 'see ya, Milo's. He turns the locks, and jiggles the door a bit to test them. Satisfied with the security, he and Milo return to the living room. Milo puts his hands on his hips, surveying the room. RJ does the same beside him, only with his arms crossed. The taller of the two lets out an amused snort.

"We do have a lotta stuff," he mumbles, scrunching his nose, his septum piercing knocked slightly out of place.

Milo nods, but the dopey grin never leaves his face. "Unpacking it is gonna be so fun! Think of how cool this place is gonna look when we're done!"

RJ shakes his head at his best friend's relentless optimism, a rare smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah, guess so."

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Everett has been up in the vent for hours, waiting for literally anything worth noting to happen. He still doesn't know who lives here, and he doesn't know what they do for work, or anything about them. Great.

He eyes the appearance of the two Beans on the couch, one of them dressed in all black, with metal glinting all over them-- their face, ears, neck and clothes all adorned with various chains and other metal pieces. Their hair was also partially purple. The other Bean was nearly their companion's opposite, in light clothing, with light hair, but with this energy that had Everett peering out of the vent with a much stronger curiosity.

Finally, the remaining three humans leave-- confirming that the two that had been on the couch were the apartment's new tenants. Everett finally gives up on getting any real information about them, besides their names; the dark haired, taller one was RJ, and the blond, shorter one was Milo. He makes his way back into the walls, trekking back to his nook.

Fletcher has been worried sick. Everett was gone for a lot longer than his usual recon missions, and his brother can't help but assume the worst. Oh, God, he's been found and killed, I'm all alone--

His spiraling is interrupted as the front door of their nook is finally pushed open with a creak, Everett making his way inside with a huff. Immediately, Fletcher descends on him, his tone sharp and concerned.

"What'd you take so long for?!" he snaps.

"Relax, Jesus," Everett grumbles back, hanging his backpack on a pushpin near the door. "Couldn't figure out which Beans were movin' in, they had friends over. Took forever. All I got was names, and what they look like."

"That's it? No jobs, or nothin'?" Fletcher asks in frustration, pushing his plastic glasses up his nose.

"Yeah, that's it."

Fletcher sighs anxiously, before he returns to his place over their makeshift stove, finishing up the dinner he'd paused after Everett took a while to come back. Everett flops down at their little kitchen table, a recent upgrade-- the little girl who'd lived in the apartment before these new Beans had a dollhouse that she'd taken horrible care of, constantly leaving it in disarray, pieces strewn across the house. So, of course the borrowers took the opportunity to splurge a bit, and take a few items that they figured would go unmissed.

Everett runs a hand through his short hair, leaning wearily against the back of the tiny chair. Fletcher eyes him as he stirs the little pot over the fire. The twins aren't always the best about communicating emotionally, but Fletcher knows all too well when his brother is thinking too hard about something.

"You good?" he prompts simply.