Worlds #1

/"Christ, you live like this?"/ Raj had exclaimed, the first time he'd visited Sunny's apartment in harsh daylight.

Standing in Raj's own bedroom doorway now, Sunny /wants/ to repeat it back to him, but he's afraid to open his mouth in case he inhales some new kind of mould.

It's not... /the/ grossest room he's seen; everything's largely free of grime, there's just, so /much/in it. Clothes he's seen both Raj and Devina wearing are sprawled over every surface, some still piled in that telltale freshly-dumped-outta-the-laundry-hamper oval shape, and there are more waterbottles and candy wrappers and /mugs/ than Sunny can take in at once.

It reminds him of what his place looked like before he got that housekeeping service.

"Didn't get much time to clean up, soz babe." Raj starts, flippant as ever as he falls back onto his rumpled sheets. "Wanna make out?"

Sunny wants to look around, more than anything. Assess the overstuffed bookcase and the lived-in furniture and all the tiny, useless things Raj has decided are worth keeping.

There's a mug on his bedside table that looks taped up, broken maybe, and Sunny can't help but reach for it before he can make it onto the bed. He turns it in his hands and chokes snorting on his laughter; where the mug had once said /World's #1 Dad/, Devina's swirling script on a scrap of taped-up paper now covers the bottom third, heralding the user a completely different kind of champion.

"You really earned an award for being a /cocksucking douchelord/?" Sunny jokes, raising a brow in Raj's direction.

Raj grins wide, affection and humour glittering clear in his eyes. "Maybe. C'mon and find out."