Click.

Click.

Tap-click.

Click.

Click tap-click.

Click.

"Hahaha." Click tap-click.

Click.

Such small sounds. Just the tiny noises of a few keys being idly pressed by two fingers on one hand and three on the other. Arthur knew which fingers they were. He even knew which keys were being used, and what each of those itty bitty sounds meant, without ever having pressed any of them for that purpose, or having gone on that blasted website.

For weeks now, it seemed as if his lover did nothing else but sit there and scroll endlessly through that Tumblr blogging site. God, he even knew the name of a site he'd never visited, and only because he'd learned very quickly that it was, apparently, more important than him. Just sitting there listening to his lover—if he could even call the other man that anymore—blog for hours on end was depressing. Couldn't they have a conversation? Couldn't they sit together, not just in the same room, but together, and watch a movie, or cuddle, maybe even make their way up to the bedroom after a little while and demonstrate their affections for each other?

As much as Arthur wished and wanted, he knew the chances of any of that happening were nonexistent. The internet would have to crash first, and then the other man would be far too focused on fixing it for Arthur to distract him long enough to get what he wanted.

Sighing, he turned his gaze from the book in his hands to the blond on the couch—Alfred. His hair was a pale blond, lighter than Arthur's golden tones, and he wore glasses over his clear blue eyes. They were lit with entertainment, and he had a very slight smile on his lips as he continued to click, click, click, his way through Tumblr. Legs stretched out along the couch and back propped against the armrest, his laptop sat on his thighs so his arms had enough room to rest comfortably with his hands on the keys.

Well, at least he looked happy, and that was more than Arthur could say about himself. He'd been foolish enough to be glad when the blue-eyed blond first discovered the blogging site. It was supposed to be something to keep Alfred busy so Arthur could have some peace and quiet while he read or took naps, and that's all it had been at first. For a few days to a little over a week, Alfred only visited the site for about thirty minutes at a time. He would grow restless and have to abandon his laptop in favor of stretching, then either talk Arthur into going for a walk with him or settle on the floor to play videogames for a while. Arthur wasn't sure what happened during that second week, but now the ash blond could and did sit for hours and hours without ever taking his gaze away from his screen. It was depressing, and Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd ever been this lonely. He shouldn't have to feel this way, not with a lover he lived with and had been dating for years.

I could seduce him.

Yes, there was that, but he'd already tried that. He'd tried it days ago, had knelt by the couch and slid his hands over Alfred's shoulders and rubbed along his collarbone, kissed the bit of skin that peeked from under the blue-eyed male's t-shirt, and nuzzled his cheek while whispering his name. It had worked for a few seconds; he'd gotten Alfred's attention, and even managed to draw him into a kiss. But Alfred had broken it before Arthur could turn it to anything more than the soft touch of lips against lips, and just like that had gone back to his laptop. Arthur had whined—he didn't deny that—and pouted and pressed his face into the cushion of the armrest, his hands still gently rubbing Alfred's upper chest. The bastard hadn't even noticed, and Arthur, rejected, had slunk away upstairs to wallow in self-pity for the next few hours.

He was not going to embarrass himself by trying again.

Still, he'd never expected to feel so lonely while sharing an apartment with someone, especially someone he'd known for so long and was undeniably and unashamedly in love with. It was plain ridiculous. They were lovers, weren't they? He'd at least thought there were behaviors to accompany that title.

We're barely even a couple anymore. That damn website's replaced me. Can't bloody believe it.

If he had to listen to Alfred clicking away for much longer, he was going to lose it. It was already hard enough to keep from sulking but this was getting ridiculous and Arthur was starting to feel the need to drink excessively or throw a fit. He needed to do something, anything that would force Alfred off his laptop or at least stop Arthur from feeling so badly.

Without much hope, the golden blond checked his watch. Only 3:13—too early to start drinking. Brilliant.

He could throw a tantrum. It would definitely get Alfred's attention, but it would als make Arthur look like a needy child. And there was always the chance that they'd start fighting and end up even worse than they were now. That wasn't a risk Arthur was willing to take.

Moody and indecisive, his book long forgotten, Arthur looked over at his lover. He watched the other blond, silent, and tried to understand how a blogging site could be more interesting than he was. It wasn't as if he was boring.

…was he?

No, no, of course not. He was educated, he gardened—tended to the window boxes and bushes out front—and read and knitted and embroidered and baked, he liked to listen to music and watch movies and take walks, he wasn't boring. He just…wasn't as interesting as Tumblr.

Oh, no, his eyes were welling up. He was going to cry.

No, no, keep it together, Kirkland.

There was no reason to cry over something so silly. It'd be better to take a moment for himself. Ah, but the tears were escaping…!

Hurriedly, Arthur set his book aside and stood, moving into the kitchen where he was out of sight of the other man. Crying out of nowhere would be a poor way to bring up why he was unhappy.

Stupid bastard probably wouldn't even have noticed, he thought bitterly, wiping at his eyes and sniffing. His throat felt tight, a sure sign that he'd been and probably still was mere seconds away from breaking down into sobs. God, why was he letting this get to him? Had he always been this sensitive? He certainly hoped not. It was ridiculous.

Eyes now dry if not a little puffy and red, Arthur placed his hands flat on the counter and took a deep, steadying breath. "Get it together, mate," he told himself sternly. "Can't fall apart over some little website and a bit of loneliness." Both hands lifting, he opened the cabinet door just in front of him and selected a white-flecked blue mug from the collection he had going. "Cup of tea and you'll be right as rain." He forced himself to sound confident, just to help pick his mood up, and tea really would soothe his nerves. It wasn't a permanent fix and he knew that, but he wasn't sure what else he could do. First things first, he had to calm himself down. Then, well, he'd figure something out.