Sometimes, when he looks at me, he just has this... look in his eyes. Like he wants to kiss me. And every time, I lean in without thinking.
But then he doesn't.
And I'm left wondering why I keep leaning in.
I think about it a lot, sometimes without even realizing.
Lying awake at night in a hotel, unable to sleep, but too lazy to get up and do something, I find myself thinking about Jaejoong, asleep in the bed next to me, and then I notice how his hair falls into his eyes like that, and how I should probably move it off his face because that might bother him, and no, it's not because I want to be able to watch him sleeping better, or because I want to touch his feather-soft hair, and then he'll sigh in his sleep, and his lips move, and I notice. How soft they look and how they feel on my cheek and how... I always lean in.
It's intellectual curiosity, I decide each time. I just want to know, really, if they're as soft on my lips as they seem on my cheek.
I know, of course, I just...
I just want to know.
And then he looks at me, eyes all large in his face and too dark to read and I find myself blushing and looking away, as if caught doing something wrong, but haven't I?
Jaejoong doesn't think so. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach across the expanse of our beds, and I reach out too, and grab his hand. And then I look at him again and he smiles.
I smile back, and let him go back to sleep.
It occurs to me, once he does, that that must be uncomfortable, and let his hand go.
I try not to laugh and hide my face in my book as Changmin shoves a large pile of dirty clothes at him. And walks away, grabbing Jaejoong's bowl of ice cream from the counter and smirking around the spoon.
Jaejoong tries a weak, "Hey!" but he can't really do anything with his arms full like that, and now here comes Yunho with his arms full of laundry, and Junsu, sweating, bursts through the door and throws his soccer jersey at Jaejoong's head, then runs into the bathroom. I hear him start the water for the shower.
He turns to look at me, mouth open and utterly bewildered, shirt falling over one eye.
I manage to escape before he can see how close I am to laughter.
I lean against the washer as Jaejoong shoves the large bundle of wet clothes into the dryer, grinning.
Jaejoong mutters under his breath, and I can't catch the words, but I imagine they aren't pretty. Especially since some of those clothes in there were, shamelessly, mine.
Slamming the door shut, he turns to glare at me before I can hide my grin. And he opens his mouth to start complaining. I cover it with my hand, and lean close.
"Don't even say it."
His eyes, if anything, grow darker, and I can just see that he's ready to bite my hand, so before he can, I continue hurriedly, "We all know you like it."
And he does bite my hand, not as hard as he could, but to let me know that he's Not Pleased. I don't move it, yet.
"Because you love taking care of us. Don't even try to hide it."
And now I move my hand, and walk away.
He's cooking, now, and he's trying to pretend like it's just for him, so he can prove me wrong, but he doesn't stop me when I snag a finger-full of batter and stick it in my mouth.
Someone grabs my waist from behind, and I glance over my shoulder to see Junsu, freshly showered now, and dip another finger in for him. He practically bites it off in enjoyment.
Then Jaejoong glances over his shoulder, and now he's kicking us out, and I can't read that look in his eyes, or maybe I can, and I'm reading it wrong, or I'm not and...
I follow behind Junsu slowly, wondering.
I'm still thinking about it, later, when all respectable people should be asleep, and I guess we aren't respectable, because I know none of us are sleeping. Changmin and Junsu are playing a video game, and I can hear them, crowing over victories or moaning in defeat. Jaejoong's still in the kitchen, and in the end, he'd refused to share those cupcakes with us, and wouldn't do more than snap at us if we'd talked to him. And Yunho keeps passing by the doorway and glaring at me because he knows that this is somehow my fault.
And I know it too, so I'm waiting for him to come back, but he's not.
I throw myself back against Jaejoong's bed and stare up at the ceiling.
I'd fallen asleep on his bed, I realized, and woke up with a start. The room's dark, now, which means someone must have come in and turned off the light.
I figure he must have decided to sleep in mine, and I realize I'm wrong when I turn to look in that direction.
He's curled up next to me, carefully not touching, and it's by that and nothing else that I know he must still be awake.
"Hey," I whisper softly and touch his hand for a moment, suddenly feeling skittish. He opens his eyes slowly and looks at me, knowing that I know he's awake but wanting to pretend to be asleep anyway, but knowing it's useless.
He's so easy to read, sometimes.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about."
And I know that's a lie, because if I didn't, he wouldn't have been so upset all day, and something of the sort must have been showing on my face, because he blushes, caught in the lie, and looks away.
I move closer to him so we're touching, slightly, much more normal for us than this strange, wary, holding back, and I hold my hand up to his face, palm open. "I'm sorry just the same."
And he sighs and rolls his eyes and takes my hand, like I knew he would.
I wake up like that the next morning, twined around Jaejoong like a lover, and open my eyes to his sleeping face, much closer than I'm used to seeing.
I lean in, before I realize I'm doing it, but this time, there's no reason to stop.