Brief Warnings: Mentions of , Brief Descriptions of, but not Explicit, Noises

     Seungri caught himself on his coffee table, staring at it in amazement.

     “I can't believe it,” he breathed, straightening up and looking around the room. The television was still playing, on the same variety show it was on when he left to get dinner. “I'm back. I did it! Oh my god, I did it!” he jumped up and down like a child hyped up on sugar.

     “Congratulations, Seungri,” Taeyang walked out of Seungri's kitchen, holding a sandwich with a bite taken out of it. Seungri took a shocked step back, the back of his legs hitting the couch. “Now maybe Jiyong will relax. I swear, he's been so tense - “ he shook his head, looking down at his sandwich. Seungri could tell it was thickly-sliced honey glazed turkey, and he winced, thinking of how long that lunch meat had been in his fridge.  Taeyang didn't seem to mind, and he took another bite. “Now,” he said around a mouthful of bread and turkey. “All you need to do now is quit your job and move in with us. It'll be great.”

     “Quit my job.”

     “Yes.”

     “And move in...with the rest of you.”

     “Yes.”

     “I'm not really liking that idea,” Seungri pulled off his coat and threw it over his couch.

     “Which bit? The moving in with us? Ah, it's fine. We all have separate rooms that are about as big as this room,” he said, gesturing with his sandwich to Seungri's living room. “And there's a communal kitchen and living room. The bathrooms connect all the rooms, and you'd be sharing with either me, or Seunghyun, depending on how you were feeling.”

     “Feeling?”

     “Yeah, like when you get up in the morning and you need to pee, you can feel like going right or you can feel like going left,” Taeyang wandered farther into Seungri's living room, looking around while he talked.

     “I see,” Seungri nodded, rubbing his hand over his face. For a second there, Seungri had actually believed that Jiyong was going to let him walk away from all of this and leave him be. Taeyang wouldn’t have been here if that had been the case. “And I assume if I don't do as I'm told, Jiyong's going to come over and kick my , isn't he?” Seungri sighed, taking his hand off his face and placing it on his hip, and looked at Taeyang with a sour expression.

     Taeyang nodded, taking another bite out of his sandwich, looking over Seungri's Blu-Ray player. “You can sell the big furniture. There's already a bed and dressers and stuff in your room. Dae and I will help you pack up your stuff. Seunghyun's better with listing apartments and finding a buyer in, like, five minutes, so he'll take care of that.”

     “I'll go put in my two weeks’ notice, then,” Seungri sighed, looking at his computer, which was still open and showing his screen saver – a collage of baby animals. “Actually, knowing Jiyong, I'd better make it one.”

     “Smart move. But he will much better once Seunghyun s him.” Taeyang finally padded over to Seungri's side, who choked on his own spit at his words. Taeyang had been so blunt, as if this were something he regularly discussed with other people: Seunghyun ing Jiyong. Seungri hadn’t really wanted hear that. After he stopped coughing his lungs and his eyes were watering and red, Taeyang moved on as if it hadn't happened. “You want to go see your room?”

     “Ah, not right now,” Seungri sighed, hoping to put it off as long as possible. He tapped his chest with his fist a couple time and coughed once more. “I'm going to go collect some boxes and start going through my stuff. I guess I don't need appliances?” He checked with the elder male.

     “You can take your microwave into room...pretty sure Dae already has mini-fridge already set up in your room. You really won't need anything else,” Taeyang finished of his sandwich, and considered the Blu-Ray once more. “Except that,” he decided, pointing. “We don't have one of those. You can bring your movies, too, but we have unlimited subscriptions to Netflix and Hulu. Seunghyun hacked their systems or something.”

     “Great, I'll set up an eBay account,” Seungri sighed, going over to his computer and waking it up.

     “I'll leave you to it,” Taeyang promised. “Dae will be by later and he'll take whatever you have ready.”

     “See you later,” Seungri said absently, typing his e-mail into eBay's sign-up sheet. It was a little depressing to be typing his information in to sell his beloved possessions. It seemed odd but he had attachments to the old and beaten up stuff he had had since he graduated from high school and left his aunt and uncle’s house. Like the end table that had an array of scratches on one side from the time he cat-sitted a friend’s insane tabby. He had freaked out, and then realized that he could just shove the side the cat that had ruined up against the couch to hide it. He put that down as ”gently used”, snapping a picture from the good side.

     Seungri worked all through the rest of the night, running across the fruit market across the street and stealing a few of the boxes that had been set out for recycling to pack with. He packed up his clothes first, leaving them by the door. Seungri dumped his lotions and shampoos in the last box he had available after emptying his closet, leaving it open by his bathroom so he could empty the stuff under his sink when he had the chance. He then spent an hour taking photos of things he wanted to sell (television, XBOX, and his bigger furniture), including the other undamaged end table.

     Seungri relocated to the kitchen, figuring it was better for his posture to sit in the kitchen chairs than to slouch on the sofa. His stomach also made the sounds of an infuriated tiger, informing him that he had not eaten dinner, so he ventured into the kitchen to eat. He managed to make instant spicy noodles while also tossing out food that should have been thrown out long before this. He also pondered his nonperishables, wondering if he should bring them with him or donate them to the local food pantry.

     He regularly checked the eBay account, refreshing the page constantly, going between it and his email. He was pleasantly surprised that he already had offers for his sofa and dresser when Daesung appeared on his kitchen table, looking surprised he had ended up there.

     “I was aiming for the front door,” he explained, climbing off the wooden table carefully, using one of the chairs as a stabilizer.

     “It's fine,” Seungri waved his hand dismissively. As long as Daesung di