Jongin is woken by loud pounding on his front door and he curses, turning over only to fall off the couch and crash to the floor.

“Son of a ,” he groans, covering his head in an effort to simultaneously block out the damned ringing and alleviate the ache in his body. He had a late night researching the different uses of the various nerves in the body for his class and he was looking forward to not waking up until noon, since he has an evening class, starting at four.

When the incessant knocking on the door is joined by the constant ringing of his doorbell, Jongin regrets installing the machine and reluctantly gets up from his floor, rubbing his shoulder to massage out the kinks from a night on his lumpy couch.

He flings the door open with a glare, hoping whoever on the other side of the door spontaneously combusts. Instead, he’s met with a palm smacking into his face and pain radiating from his nose. Damn nervous system.

“Sorry,” Sehun apologises very insincerely. “Took you long enough to open your door though.”

“Do you know what time it is?” Jongin demands nasally, clutching his nose and carefully swiping it to check for blood.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Sehun answers cheerily, welcoming himself into Jongin's apartment and making himself comfortable on his couch. Sehun makes a face as he surveys the living room. “Jesus, Jongin. Do you know what cleaning means?”

Jongin scowls and slams his door shut, picking up a textbook lying by his feet and hurling it at his best friend’s face. Unfortunately, it misses, but it does smash into his chest and cause a very satisfying wheeze to emit from Sehun’s mouth. “ off.”

He doesn’t care what time it is. He just wants Sehun to go away so he can get more sleep.

Sehun coughs once before tossing the textbook onto the floor and frowning up at Jongin, who ignores his unwelcome guest in favour of getting a glass of water and maybe some food, if he has any.

“You’re so grumpy when you get woken up,” Sehun calls at his retreating back. Jongin replies by flipping him off.

He rummages in his fridge, lamenting its emptiness as he eyes a carton of milk and decides it unsafe for consumption after taking a whiff and nearly gagging. He decides to stick to some good, non-curdled tap water and a few pieces of stale bread.

“Is there a reason you’re here at,” Jongin glances at the clock hanging on the wall and curses Sehun to the pits of hell, “nine in the ing morning?”

Sehun smiles innocently, like he doesn’t know it’s an ungodly hour of the morning. “I just thought we could have some breakfast, that’s all.”

Jongin re-evaluates his friendship with Sehun immediately. He doesn’t know why he’s decided to stick with Sehun’s bratty for as long as he has.

“Get out,” he orders, squinting at his best friend (pending demotion) and pointing out his door. “I’m tired and you’re a pain in the .” Jongin's stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly, protesting the lack of food. Traitor, he thinks morosely as he glances down at his hungry stomach.

Sehun’s smile turns into more of a smirk and Jongin tosses some dirty laundry at Sehun’s face just because. He takes great enjoyment in the Sehun’s shriek as the latter nearly falls off the couch in an attempt to fling the dirty shirt off his face. Jongin snorts in amusement and Sehun glares when he manages to fling it halfway across the room. Sehun’s pink hair is a mess and there’s a flush across his face from the struggle.

“Oh, I offer to buy you breakfast and you attack me with mouldy clothing,” Sehun huffs like the brat he is and stomps to the front door. “Well, fine then. Starve to death for all I care.”

Jongin wavers; Sehun is a rich kid, his father a business man and always very generous with the allowance he gives Sehun. Breakfast with Sehun would mean actual food and Jongin's stomach hasn’t had proper food that wasn’t greasy takeout in a while.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jongin yelps, lunging at Sehun and clutching his arm. “I’m sorry, Sehunnie. Feed me?” He adds in a pout for good measure, widening his eyes innocently.

Sehun scowls, pushing his head away. “You’re lucky I like you. Go shower and get dressed. You stink.”

•●•●•●•

Sehun doesn’t disappoint. After Jongin dresses in a clean shirt (well, clean by his standards, that is) and jeans, they make their way to a relatively high-end restaurant that serves Jongin's favourite waffles.

If it was anyone but Sehun, Jongin would think that Sehun’s doing it out of the kindness of his heart. However, he knows Sehun and Oh Sehun does not do nice things unless he wants something in return. Since it’s still early, Jongin waits until he’s had a couple bites of his waffles before calling his best friend out.

“So, what gives?” Jongin asks through a mouthful of perfectly crisp waffles.

Sehun hits him over the head with his spoon. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Sehun chides.

Jongin swallows and rubs his stinging forehead. “You don’t hit people with spoons either, ,” Jongin retorts, stealing Sehun’s spoon before he can do anymore damage. “Now, what do you want? You never buy me breakfast this nice unless something’s up.” Jongin eyes Sehun, who pokes his scrambled eggs and doesn’t meet the former’s eyes. “You didn’t kill someone, did you?”

Sehun glares up at him, but Jongin thinks it’s a perfectly valid question. Despite learning about the minds of people and learning how to attempt to cure them of their psychological disorders, Jongin thinks that Sehun is a walking psychologist’s nightmare. On a good day, Oh Sehun is a homicidal maniac who rather enjoys plotting the deaths of human beings around him. He also enjoys causing physical harm to Jongin and a few other choice friends. See? Insane.

(Sehun may or may not be retaliating after Jongin hits him first. Really, it’s a toss-up most days.)

“No,” Sehun hisses. “between the two of us, you’re more likely to be the homicidal maniac.”

“I resent that,” Jongin cries. “I’m perfectly sane!”

Sehun shoots him a judgemental look that might send a lesser man cowering. “You still watch anime.”

“Sane people watch anime too,” Jongin says defensively, stuffing another obscenely large piece of waffle into his mouth. “You’re avoiding the question, by the way.”

Sehun makes the face where his lips are pressed into a thin line and he frowns, making his mouth look wider than it is and overall making him look unattractive. “Jongin-ah,” he begins and Jongin steels himself; Sehun never calls him Jongin-ah unless he’s asking for something big, “do you ever feel lonely in your apartment?”

What.

The question throws Jongin off. He’d expected Sehun to have a completely ridiculous request, like that time when they were seven and Sehun had dared him to catch a fish with his bare hands. That had resulted in Jongin getting bitten by a fish with really big teeth and Sehun laughing his evil little off as Jongin cried while he got his three stitches.

“What kind of question is that?” Jongin grumbles, spearing another waffle on his fork but not putting it in his mouth.

“Just answer the question.”

Jongin doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to think about how alone he feels because he’s been keeping himself pretty busy. Ever since he got back from New York, he’s been keeping himself so busy that he simply doesn’t have the energy to think about what he feels.

Regret; he hurt Kyungsoo and pushed him away.

Anger; he messed up the best relationship he ever had to chase for a relationship he never had a chance with.

“Does it matter?” Jongin mutters, glaring at his plate. He doesn’t feel hungry anymore, even though he still has half a waffle to finish. All he wants to do now is just hide under his bed and try to sleep away the feelings. It’s his fault he feels like . There’s simply no one to blame but himself. “You’re an , you know that?”

Sehun sighs, placing a hand over Jongin's to stop him from further mutilating his food. “I didn’t ask you that to make you feel bad,” Sehun says softly, looking into Jongin's eyes. He can see the sincerity in Sehun’s eyes, which is the only reason he’s not angry at him. “Look, I have a friend who needs room but doesn’t have enough money. You have spare room, right? Maybe you could rent it out to her.”

“I’m not looking for a roommate,” Jongin points out, shuffling his feet under the table.

“You have the room. She’s… she doesn’t look too well – working too hard and stuff – and I’d feel a lot better knowing you’re the one looking after her.”

“Don’t you think you’re caring too much? I though you liked men.”

Sehun knocks the side of his head with his fist and okay, Jongin probably deserved that one. “Idiot. She’s just a friend.”

Jongin rubs the side of his head, willing the spots in his vision to fade as Sehun wavers and splits into two. Ugh, one Sehun is enough of a headache to deal with, thank you very much.

“Is she even okay with having me as a roommate?” he asks dubiously, blinking rapidly as his vision clears. Sometimes he forgets how hard Sehun can hit when he puts his mind to it. Who knew such a scrawny thing could hit so hard?

“She’s friends with me.”

“Yeah… but you’re you.”

Sehun kicks him this time. “Are you going to help her or not?”

“What do I get out of it?”

“You won’t feel guilty about making a fellow college student and dancer homeless. You’ll get to make a new friend.” Sehun’s gaze softens. “You won’t feel so lonely anymore, either.”

“I never said I was lonely,” Jongin says although the ache in his chest refutes his claim. He admits it; he’s so very lonely. He turns the TV on all night to chase away the silence even though his electricity bill has skyrocketed. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night, expecting Kyungsoo to be curled up next to him, but the side of Kyungsoo's bed is cold – has been cold for months (after he chased him away). “Fine,” he relents. “I’ll talk to your friend, but no promises.”

Sehun smiles, his teeth flashing in the morning light. “Great!” His expression turns mischievous. “Now you have to clean.”

Jongin groans. He knew whatever plan Sehun came up with would end with him suffering.

•●•●•●•

Jongin huffs out a breath, leaning back to stretch the kink in his back and hearing a satisfying crack. He surveys the newly cleaned living room, letting out a grunt of satisfaction when he notes its cleanliness.

It that he has to clean his apartment on the day he doesn’t have any classes, but Sehun insisted on bring his friend over today and Jongin has to admit that it’s a little embarrassing to bring a stranger into a filthy apartment, especially since the stranger is a potential roommate. He sighs as he thinks of the pile of laundry he has hidden in his room. He should probably tackle it now while he’s cleaning, but that would mean a trip to the Laundromat down the street and he’s too tired to make the trek now. He figures he’ll put off the laundry until he’s run out of clean clothes to wear or the smell starts giving him a headache.

While he’s on a cleaning spree, he might as well tackle his hazard of a bedroom. You know, kind of.

He’s in the midst of aggressively clearing his bed free of his study notes and empty snack wrappers when his elbow knocks into something on the bedside table. He winces as he hears the sharp tinkle of breaking glass and peers over the side of his bed to glare at the fallen photo frame. How dare it fall over without his permission.

He reaches down to grab it – great, now he has to sweep too – and freezes when he sees the picture. He’d forgotten the picture was still there. Maybe he was just too busy keeping himself busy that he forgot about things like that.

Jongin gently traces the frame, careful of the broken glass. It doesn’t obscure the happy faces of him and Kyungsoo, though. He lets out a sigh. He can’t even cry anymore; he’s all out of tears.

He crosses his legs and sits on the bed, looking around the room. He can still see traces of Kyungsoo here and there, although he’s pretty sure it’s all in his head. Kyungsoo took everything with him when he left.

Jongin jolts, looking down at the picture frame in his hands. No, not everything. He still left the pictures.

Jongin feels tears that he hadn’t thought he still had prick his eyes when he notices that there’s a clear crack between him and Kyungsoo in the picture. It seems to suit them fine. They’re still friends, but Jongin still loves him. He still loves him, so he’ll let him go. Obviously Chanyeol makes the elder happier than Jongin ever did.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at the picture when his phone rings, pulling him out of his thoughts. Jongin cradles the picture frame to his chest as he reaches for his phone. Sehun flashes across the screen and he clears his throat, wiping his face to ensure there aren’t any tears staining it.

“What?” Jongin answers.

“Hello to you too, Jongin,” Sehun replies sarcastically. “Are you done with your biohazard of an apartment yet?”

“Just about.” Jongin looks back at the photo frame. “I just have to move some stuff and I’ll be done.”

“Be done in an hour,” Sehun orders. “We’re meeting Ji Hye at the Subway near your place.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

There’s silence on the other side of the line. “Is there something wrong?”

Jongin looks at the picture frame and then at the broken glass still lying on the floor next to his bed. He thinks of the photo albums left in the bookshelf in the living room. Yes, there’s something wrong, but there’s been something wrong since Kyungsoo left, not that he can complain. He’s the one who pushed Kyungsoo away.

“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Jongin answers softly. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Jongin – ”

Jongin doesn’t hear the rest of Sehun’s sentence as he hangs up and tosses his phone on the bedside table. He carefully extracts the picture from its frame, tracing Kyungsoo's face in the picture before getting off his bed.

He’s careful to place it in the albums before he buries it in the bottom of his closet, hidden under a pile of clothes.

-0-

Updating twice in two days. Yeah... don't get used to it. I was on a roll so this is pretty rare. Don't expect it often.

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Hi Jongin I'm sorry you got all angsty near the end. But, hey, Jongin!