The Less I Know The Better [complete]

45 ;; epilogue + a/n

"No, John, put it up against the foot of the bed, not there,"

"Why does it even matter? It's not like we're gonna care much about what angle the dresser's facin'." John grumbled to himself, yet gripping one side of the wooden dresser anyway while Paul held the other, twisting it around and pushing it up against the bottom of the bed (that didn't possess sheets or pillows as of yet - they'd only just finished building the frame yesterday and placing a mattress on it), wincing at the loud screeching noise it made against the old wooden floorboards of their new flat.

"It matters a lot, John, because we're gonna want more space to walk in between here and the wall." Paul gestured to the gap between the dresser and the wall, just enough for one person to squeeze through, before running a hand through his quiffed ebony hair, the style distinctly wilting after all their exertion, framing his flushed face and occasionally poking him in the eye; which caused him to huff (rather adorably) in annoyance and brush it impatiently out of the way. John watched for a moment as he shedded his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the bed and began to move out of their new bedroom, before trailing after him.

Their new apartment they'd managed to save up for and rent had been quite a steal - it was situated in a decent part of Liverpool only twenty minutes away from the offices where John had gotten work as a journalist for a popular music magazine a few years prior once he'd finished school, and basically right around the corner from a university Paul had been wanting to study English at, working at a steel factory at the same time. Ringo already lived in an apartment of his own right across the road with a few other mates, a supermarket about ten minutes walk away, though supposedly their neighbours were quite loud and played music late into the night - but it wasn't like they cared about that all that much, they were young adults after all - so they were ecstatic to be able to snag this spot. Their landlord seemed to be a bit of a curmudgeon, but they didn't really mind, along as the rent was cheap and they wouldn't get kicked out.
It consisted of a small lounge room that they'd got a couch, a rug and a telly in so far, with a doorway on the left leading to a cramped kitchen with cracked white tiles, a small bedroom beside it (which John and Paul had chosen for their own bedroom) and two doors on the other side that led to another bedroom and a small bathroom with a dubious shower that John had a feeling he would be needing to replace in some way in the coming months. It was small and definitely not in the best shape, but they didn't mind at all - it was practically perfect in their eyes.

"What are you guys yammering on about now?" George appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against it and raising a single eyebrow at the pair. He had changed so much in the past two years - in fact, all of them had, really. The youngest of them all was still in school in his last year, having turned eighteen back in February, and out of nowhere he'd shot up several centimetres and was now the tallest out of all of them for some unfair reason. He was still quite skinny and had the same deadpan look, but his shoulders had broadened and his facial features had sharpened. Ringo was relatively the same, though he had grown a moustache and stubble on his chin and John swore he could pass off as twenty-six now. George was planning to move in with Ringo after he'd finished school, and John was excited for it - they would all be right across the road from each other. They would be able to visit whenever they wanted.
The one whose appearance had changed the most out of all of them, actually, was Paul. The nineteen year old (just turned the week before) was taller than John now and had pretty much lost all his puppy fat around his neck and stomach, his jaw much more defined and suddenly a lot hairier than before, especially his forearms and legs. It had happened so quickly that in those recent weeks John was barely able to take his eyes off him, feeling like he was kind of a completely different person, yet still just as beautiful, if not more so. Christ, that sounded queer, but John didn't really care anymore. They'd been together for nearly three years now, he felt like he had the right to say that. Fucking hell, three years..