Because when I hear new and intriguing facts about the boys, clearly the thing to do is write about them. Betaed by Eliza.

It starts because Yoochun won't let Jaejoong just dump his suitcase out on the floor, despite the lateness of the hour and their mutual exhaustion. Jaejoong starts to pout, but then he sees the look in Yoochun's eyes. It's not threatening or scary, but far away and sad, and Jaejoong doesn't know what's made Yoochun think of Virginia now, except maybe that they're in a strange room in a strange apartment in a strange country, and none of them speak the language very well.

Jaejoong blinks back the weariness dragging at his eyes, and helps Yoochun straighten up their room. He gets a hug in thanks, just before they both collapse into their beds.

The next time it's a ritual of comfort, touching each surface and making it theirs, smoothing down sheets and blankets, fluffing pillows, rearranging side tables so they can see each other when they whisper across the gap between beds. There's no whispering tonight, but another hug, a mutual kiss on the cheek, and the last thing Jaejoong sees before he falls asleep is Yoochun smiling at him in the dark.

After that, there's no discussion or even a questioning look. Each time they return to Japan, they're put in a room together. Each time, they "clean" a room sterile and untouched, until it feels enough like home to sleep in, until the hollowness has left Yoochun's eyes and the stiffness has left his spine and he lets Jaejoong hold him, holds onto Jaejoong, curled into each other on a single bed. Sometimes they stay like that, murmuring and kissing until they drop off to sleep, to awaken in the early hours of the morning and untangle stiff limbs from each other. Yoochun gives Jaejoong one more kiss, before stealing across the gap to his own bed.

Sometimes they have enough energy to push the beds together. The space between is clear, after all.

And sometimes they pull the mattresses and bedding off the frames, because Junsu's gone silent and sullen and Changmin's been snappish and Yunho's retreated into stoicism, and five people fit better in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor than on a precarious double bed made out of two twins. Then there are whispers in five-part harmony, and different flavors of kisses, different contours of smiles in the darkness.

In the morning, they all help straighten up, and the look in Yoochun's eyes is right here, shining.

~END~