“I heard that you’re… settled down… that you… found a girl and you’re… married now…”


A sniffle.
 

“There there, Luhan,” Kyungsoo bleats, ing himself further and further into the recliner sofa in an attempt to smother himself.


He chucks a couple of Maltesers into his mouth, watching as the screen of his television wrestled with a dark line that Luhan, quite frankly, did not seem to be hitting vocally through his incessant sobbing.


“I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited…”


A tear slides down Luhan’s cheek, as he almost does a backflip over the coffee table and into the carpet. Kyungsoo counts the seconds on his fingers. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two minutes. One. Counting down until it hit four pm, and Sehun would get back from work.


“I hoped you’d see my face and that you’d be reminded that for me it isn’t oooooOOOVVEEEEEerrrRRRRRRRRR!”


Kyungsoo had moved back into their shared place after his aunt had quite surprisingly offered to live with his mother, and to be quite honest Kyungsoo regret every minute of it.


Well, probably not every minute. Just every minute Luhan spent wallowing in self pity and raiding his ice cream supply and using up their electricity with that stupid Singstar game that Sehun had grabbed out of the cheap bin at EB Games just to piss Kyungsoo off.


“Lu, why don’t you just tell him you want to get back together?” Kyungsoo groans, throwing the remote at his head.


Luhan trips over his foot, narrowly avoiding it, before glaring at Kyungsoo as he tilted the fake microphone upwards between his lips. The clock hits four, and Kyungsoo hears the shuffle of keys in the door handle.


Here we go, Kyungsoo thinks to himself.


He can hear Sehun’s footsteps down the hallway, how they slow down when he reaches the living room door and how his breath catches in his throat just as Luhan attempts to belt out the chorus through his really unattractive sniffles.


“NEVERMIND I’LL FIND SOMEONE LIKE YOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU I WISH NOTHING BUT THE BEST… FOR YOOOOOOUUUUUU TOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”


“Oh God, not again,” he hears Sehun groan.


“DON’T FORGET ME, I BEG, I REMEMBER YOU SAID! SOMETIMES IT LASTS IN LOVE BUT SOMETIMES IT HURTS INSTTEEEAAAAAADDDDDDD!!!!”


Luhan is hysterical.


“Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead…”


“What the are you doing here again, Luhan?” Sehun groans, chucking his laptop on top of Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo lets out a feeble groan and rolls himself off the couch, chewing his lips laboriously.


“Well, maybe if we didn’t have ing Singstar we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he concedes.


Sehun rolls his eyes at him, marching across to a sobbing Luhan, who is all too extravagantly sniffling into one of Sehun’s old jumpers like a lovesick teenage girl. Sehun finally notices and he snorts in disapproval, tearing the fabric from between Luhan’s fingers.


Luhan makes a noise like a strangled cat as the song finishes, watching as a next song hits the loading screen. Brilliant, Kyungsoo thinks to himself. ing brilliant. He quickly jumps off the couch and rips the power chord from its socket, uncaring if he gives himself an electric shock in the process. Luhan jumps like a puppy in a lightning storm, eyes trained to the floor.


“Luhan, seriously. What the are you doing in my house?” Sehun repeats.


“Our house,” Kyungsoo corrects him.


“Oh shut up!” Sehun snaps.


Kyungsoo pops a Malteser in his mouth.


“Luhan really, you’ve got to get over this. And what’s with the constant messaging on Facebook? And the texts? And were you drunk on Saturday because I swear to God that was basically ting me, I think you need mental help.”


“ting?” Kyungsoo cuts in, looking around for Sehun’s phone quizzically. Sehun pouts at him before tossing his mobile across the room.


“I deleted them. Have a look for yourself.”


Kyungsoo struggles to hide his disappointment. He does, however, quirk an eyebrow as he watches Luhan march across and capture Sehun’s lips with his.


“I missed you!” he complains, the pitch of his voice rivaling nails down a chalkboard. Well, in Kyungsoo’s opinion anyway.


Sehun decides to kiss back, things becoming heated very quickly as Sehun picks Luhan up and carries him to the bedroom. Kyungsoo strains his ears and hears the couple’s groaning reverberate down the corridor.


“Oh Sehun!”


“Oh Luhan!”


“Oh Jesus take the ing wheel!” Kyungsoo interjects, before retrieving the remote turning the television volume up loud.


---


“You know you’re a complete ,” Sehun complains, throwing Kyungsoo a devious glare as he stirs layer upon layer of sugar into his coffee the next morning. Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow, starting on another box of Maltesers as his eyes sift through the newspaper.


“You know, you don’t think much, Sehun,” he begins, choosing his words a little less carefully than he should have.


“What?”


“I mean, you’re happy with putting up with Luhan so long as you get mind-blowing . There’s nothing particularly intellectual about that now is there?” Sehun lets out a low growl, but Kyungsoo continues nevertheless.


“I’m the opposite. I think too much. I keep making up scenarios of me and Kai in my head. But I hardly know him. We just make out sometimes. He likes to stare at me a lot, and it’s kind of creepy, the way that he stares. It’s a bit too much.”


Sehun perks and eyebrow up, a small sigh escaping his lips.


“You want to break up with him?” he asks.


Kyungsoo sits quietly for a moment.


“I don’t know,” he breathes.


“I mean Kai is really quite hot, you know that right? So tanned and muscular and those eyes and arms and legs and just…fjvnjrnfjrnfrnfedsaxsakldjklefjebf. But like, do we have a deeper connection than that? I don’t know… I don’t know if we’ve got anything beyond physical attraction.”


“Oh?” Sehun says with a shake of his head.


“Do you want me to let him know today at work?” he asks.


“I… no… I mean… yes… I mean… I think it would be better if I was the one to say it…” Kyungsoo stutters.


“Ok.”


Half and hour later, Sehun is out the door and Kyungsoo is rolling around on the carpet, quite possibly giving himself carpet burn. He stares up at the paint peeling off the ceiling for almost three hours, before finally rolling over and grabbing his laptop to finally start on that overdue essay.