They don’t speak for a long time afterwards, though more out of pride than any lingering animosity, because after Luhan rips his laptop’s cord from the wall and storms out of the apartment, and after Sehun knocks a cold bowl of ramen from the countertop in frustration, they both regret their words.

Nevertheless, Luhan crawls into bed at one in the morning, turns his back to Sehun, and can’t fall asleep. Sehun is just as stubborn, and pretends to be sleeping as Luhan repeatedly gets up for a glass of water and a breath of cold, musty night air. They’ve been in this situation for too long to have it be resolved by a simple apology and a resolution to do better. It’s always like this, first a period of normalcy, trudging through the muck of one day only to make it to the filth of the next, without ever a word of complaint lest it disturb the delicate balance of their lives. Next a period of tension, treading on broken glass and feeling the sharp edges shift under their bare soles as one thing after another goes wrong--a failed test or a parking ticket followed by an expensive injury or a lost wallet. They watch, dreading each forward step, but having to take them because there’s nothing else they can do. They watch with increasing disgust as their lives reveal the plainness and mundanity underneath the thin veneer of glamour that is Thursday’s happy hour and Saturday’s trip to the bakery. They justify what’s going on to themselves--it’ll be better, I’ll work harder next time, things will just work themselves out, won’t they? They convince themselves to continue with their lives, not doing anything to change them.

But then comes the breaking point. Something, whether tangible or uncertain, pushes one of them over the edge, and a confrontation like that morning’s results. Every feeling they’ve kept locked inside is spit out and left there in all its ugliness for everyone to see. They realize once more that nothing has changed, that Luhan is still plugging away at some degree that won’t even get him a job, that Sehun is still going to the same squished cubicle to a job that gives neither happiness nor money, that their situation is still as desperate as before.

A week after the fight, as they lay on opposite sides of the same bed, Luhan mutters a small I’m sorry.

“What?” Sehun asks, turning onto his side.

“I’m sorry,” Luhan repeats, continuing to stare at the ceiling. “For what I said earlier.”

There is silence for a moment, and then Sehun says, “I’m sorry too. For what I said earlier.”

They don’t elaborate, only slide closer together to welcome the comfort of each other’s arms. By no means are their problems gone. The world can’t be changed with words and hopes, maybe not even by actions. The only thing that can change is themselves, and their perception of the world. Because now, for the umpteenth time, they have realized that the world is cruel, and without each other they would be alone in it. They can’t afford being alone; it would kill them. So they are together, struggling through the cruelty of the world with their only comfort that they are not alone. It’s selfish, but humans are innately selfish, and if only they can have the heat of each other’s bodies pressed close, the feel of each other’s lips so delicate so hard, then they can feel some measure of hope.

But when morning comes they can wonder if anything has really been solved at all, if they won’t go back to the same desperate cycle, forsaking even each other in their wretchedness.

A/N: Sorry for unloading so much angst onto you when Hunhan is like the epitome of fluff, and I didn't even tag this as angst. The next prompt calls for some sweet puppy love though, in my opinion, so look forward to it?