Sleepless, JaeVin Oneshot
Fandom: UKISS
Rating: G
Pairing: JaeVin
Summary: A bad dream causes Kevin to knock on AJ's door in the middle of the night.
Notes: For my Alex. She inspires me.
Three in the morning and you'd think that there wouldn't be anything to distract me. None of the others are awake. Hoon's not taking the top bunk since he's out visiting friends. The television isn't blaring in the living room of our suite. The morning is clear on our schedules tomorrow, and for once I'm left with the peace and quiet of my own thoughts to keep me company.
That's not really a bad thing, not usually. Tonight, it kind of is. There's only a week before I leave for Columbia. That's seven days -- six, now -- for me to make sure that I've got everything in order, all of those markers on my to-do list checked off. There's an entire laundry list of things to do, but I can't focus on any of it. My entire mind seems wound up around something, or rather someone, else.
Since I came back from school last time, Kevin and I have been close. Maybe more than close, but it's not like it ever went anywhere. I've enjoyed this friendship between us. Yeah, I might wish it was more, but I'll take what I can get. Up until a few weeks ago, what I could get was his company and good conversation. Maybe a hug if I was feeling down, or if he needed a bit of comfort himself. Now? Nothing. He's been keeping his distance, shooting me unreadable looks during downtime and pulling away when he used to almost give in. I don't understand, and it's made it almost impossible to concentrate.
Relaxing on the bed, I'm going through the notebook that I've managed to organize all of my last minute errands and school review notes into. Under the light of my lamp, I'm looking everything over and deciding what to take care of tomorrow. At least, that's what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm just sort of zoning out as I try not to think about him. I'm not supposed to and I know it. Just one more bad habit I need to break. My thin thoughts are interrupted with an unexpected banging on my bedroom door. Someone is actually knocking, and the sound is jarring. I almost jolt off the bed, my notes scattering on the floor. Nobody is supposed to be awake right now.
There's no point in wondering who it is. I might as well get up and check. Heaving a sigh and the rest of my notes off my lap, I manage to shuffle across the floor and get the door open. When I do, I can't help but blink in surprise.
"Hi." Kevin's voice is soft as he glances up at me, quickly looking away. I can barely see him in the dim light from the lamp, but I can tell that he's a mess. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and he looks bleary-eyed. His flannel pajamas are halfway unbuttoned like he couldn't quite get comfortable in them.
Pushing away my confusion, I respond the only way I can. "Hi." When he doesn't respond, I add, "You're up late, aren't you?"
Kevin just shakes his head, and it occurs to me that nobody gets up in the middle of the night just to say hi. That's when I see it. He isn't just bleary-eyed. His face is red and a little swollen. He's been crying.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concern quickly replacing my confusion.
Staring at the floor, Kevin doesn't really seem to have an answer. Even though he isn't saying anything, I doubt that he came to me so he could stand out in the hall. Stepping back a little, I move my arm in a gesture guiding him inside. He follows, walking past me. Shutting the door behind him, I turn to look at him, only to find him facing the other direction.
All of those thoughts from earlier have returned. Our friendship has become so distance that I'm at a loss for what to do. I want to walk over to him, put my hand on his shoulder and pull him into a hug. Whatever the problem is, it looks like maybe a hug is something that might help. Now, though, I'm not sure whether or not he would let me. That's part of why I've been counting down the days to Columbia; they're also the days until this uneasiness is taken away. Or, rather, left behind.
Finally, Kevin takes a breath. He sinks in on himself a little, shrinking a bit as he stares out my window. "I had a bad dream," he tells me. The words are so quiet that I can barely make them out.
"Okay..." Now I know why he's upset, but that doesn't really eliminate my confusion. My hands are clenching at my side. I don't like not understanding, and I don't like not being able to help. "You had a bad dream, so you came to see me?"
Wrapping his arms around himself, Kevin nods and turns a little to look at me. I wish I could read that look in his eyes, but I can't. Maybe the fact that he's crying is blurring his emotions for me. "I wondered if I could ask a favor," he says.
Kevin has never asked a favor from me a day in his life. I mean, not counting begging me to buy him a shirt or lunch or something, but things like that don't really count. This sounds a lot more serious, and whatever it is that's on his mind apparently matters enough to bring him to me. I'm not sure I could say no to that even if I wanted to.
Reaching up, I scratch my head. "What kind of favor?"
"Would you... give me a hug?"
The question sounds so hopeful that it's almost enough to break my heart. This is something that Kevin's never done, either. Asked me to hug him. Sure, he's done it when we're on stage. Maybe in front of cameras a time or two. That's for an audience, all of it a show. This is something different, something private.
I'm hesitating, not sure whether or not I should give in, but it's impossible to refuse the look of hopelessness on Kevin's face. I can't stand him looking like that, like he's just been through the worst thing in the world. He bites his lip and I can't wait any longer. Taking two broad steps towards him, I place a hand on his shoulder and pull him up against me.
Little by little, Kevin folds himself completely against my chest, his arms pressing up against me as he rests his head on my shoulder. I knew he was crying, but I didn't know that he was shaking. There are little tremors running through every inch of his body. I can feel them under my arms as I hold him, and under my fingers as I rub his back soothingly. I've never seen him like this, and I don't like it even if it has pulled him into my arms for a few sweet minutes.
"What on earth was that dream about?" I ask him, giving him a little squeeze and wishing that I could do more for him. "You're shaking, baby."
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
I didn't actually expect a response. Definitely not that response. He pulls away from me a little, just enough that he can rest his forehead on my arms. Apparently there isn't enough room between us for that admission of his. My arms are still around him, but loosely. This isn't a hug anymore, but somehow I don't think he cares. He just stays that way, letting his words hang in the air while he breathes against my shoulder.
Is Columbia really at the heart of all of this? My upcoming trip, or move, or whatever you want to call it, has taken over a significant portion of my life. Hell, outside of work and brief stints with friends, it is my life now. I didn't think it really affected the others. Not really. They might miss me, sure, but it's not like it's the first time that I've been gone.
There is a selfish part of me that wants to say that Kevin didn't miss me the last time I left. That's a lie and I know it. He and I don't talk about it. There wouldn't be any point. We're friends now, or at least we were, and I've accepted that.
I have no idea what to tell him, especially with thoughts like that running through my mind. I tighten my arms around him a little, trying to pull him closer again. I don't get to hold him like this very often.
"I'm sorry," I murmur into his hair. That's all that I can say.
This closeness is something that I have been needing. Sure, it's the middle of the night. Really, neither of us should be awake. But maybe this is my chance to say good-bye. Kevin is affectionate with all of us, but he rarely lets me hold him like this. This is the conversation that we never have, told with no real words and nothing but quietness. He is upset. No matter what happens or has happened between us, I will always be there to offer whatever comfort he needs. I just don't understand why my leaving seems to be the reason he's falling to pieces in the first place.
Slowly, the upset in him seems to drain away. I can feel him relaxing a little, his hands no longer balled up against my chest. His fingers flatten against my shirt, and then he slides them down so that he can halfway return the hold. His arms wrap loosely around my waist. He asked for a favor; he didn't say how badly he needed this.
"You want to sit down?" I ask, rubbing his back. Kevin is still shaking, even if not as badly as he was. I'm not sure whether it's because he's upset or if he might be cold. Either way, I think we'll both feel steadier when we're seated.
Against my shoulder, Kevin just nods. He follows the movement as I pull us both down to sit on the edge of the bed. He leans into my arms, relaxing minutely when he doesn't have to concentrate on remaining on his feet. I have to move a little to sit comfortably. He doesn't protest, just shifts with the awkwardness of the movement, pressing his face into my shirt.
I like feeling him like this. Warm. Not standoffish. Not pushing me away like he used to, and is starting to do again.
"I'm glad you came to see me," I tell him. My fingers run down the back of his shirt, following the rhythm of his breathing. My thoughts right now are jumbled, and my feelings are confused, but I am glad. My reasons might not be entirely selfless, but this is as comforting for me as it apparently is for him. This is probably the last chance I'll get to be alone with him before I leave. I just wish I had something more worthwhile to say.
Kevin leans into me, murmuring wordlessly. "Can I ask another favor?"
I'm resting my head on his, my lips pressed to his hair. He smells of shampoo; vanilla, and it's just enough to distract me from the thoughts I'm trying to ignore. He already knows the answer.
"Ask me anything," I reply, "and you know I'll say yes."
Kevin hums lightly, pulling back a little further. "Can I stay here tonight? With you?"
My breath catches in my throat at the words, but they aren't as much of a surprise as they should be. He doesn't like to sleep alone and I know that very well. He usually spends his night snuggled up with whoever shares his hotel room. Kiseop, now. Sometimes Eli, if he's up for it. I'm never at the top of the list, but apparently he doesn't mind my company right now. Tonight, it's me he wants to comfort him.
Still, I'm not sure if I should actually let him stay. Whatever this dream was that he had, it was enough to lead him to my room, but I don't think it would be appropriate. He clearly needs someone to hold him, but the reasons I would agree are very different from the reasons that he wants me to. We both know this, and there's no point in mentioning it.
The thought of letting him stay the rest of the night in my room, maybe even my bed, is enough to make me instantly happy, but there are other things to think about. My mind ticks over a small list; packing, school review, bills. All things that I need to take care of still. Sleep's kind of important, too, and I doubt I'll get much of it if he's sharing my room for the night. Tallying all of those things up, I already know that nothing matters to me as much as Kevin.
"You can stay here if you want, yeah," I tell him. The way he's leaning against me makes me wonder if his request wasn't partially motivated in part by exhaustion. Pulling back a little, I move my hand to his shoulders. "Are you tired?"
The look he gives me is enough to answer that question. He's almost pouting, and it's all I can do to stop myself from leaning forward to kiss his forehead. Instead, I get to my feet and pull him up with me so I can pull back the covers on my bunk. Then it occurs to me that I'm not sure if he actually wants to share the mattress, or if he just wanted someone else in the room. The best way to find out is to ask.
"Are you wanting to share, or do you want me to take Hoon's bed?" I ask, trying to figure out how to word that without being awkward.
"We can share." It's a statement, but it sounds more like a request. Not necessarily a happy one. "I don't want to be alone right now."
There is nothing I can do except tug the covers back. I slide under the covers, waiting for him. It's easier if I'm by the wall. This isn't like Kevin. I've never seen him this needy, not with me. If he changes his mind, he'll have an easier time leaving if he's the one on the edge of the bed.
Kevin doesn't seem to notice my considerations. From where I'm lying on the mattress, he looks surprisingly vulnerable. There's something about the way he's fidgeting, about how he's looking at me but not really seeing me, that makes my heart go out to him. I don't like seeing him upset like this, and I definitely don't like being the cause of it. At least he isn't crying anymore. That makes a difference. Still, if he wasn't the one asking to sleep here tonight, I'd think that he was having second thoughts.
The look on his face stays in place as he sits down on the edge of the bed. He tugs the blankets over him, lying down and resting his head on my second pillow. He's facing me. His skin is still damp with tears, his expression conflicted. I'm not really sure what to do with this, but I wish that he could relax a little.
"Kevin," I murmur, "are you okay?"
He shakes his head, looking at me for a moment before he turns his eyes away. There's no point in asking again. Instead, I roll a little and reach up to turn off the lamp. The room is plunged into darkness, and I'm left with the awkward, quiet space between us on my small mattress. Even I can't relax like this, not when I have no idea what to do now. I don't know if he wants to be close, or if he would rather that I keep my distance. Maybe what he wants isn't the question. What does he need right now?
My question is answered when he shifts on the bed. His hand tangles in my shirt; I can feel the pressure from his fingers. I'm a bit surprised, but he doesn't seem to mind. Kevin just slides across the sheets, settling against my chest and gently resting an arm on my side. I wasn't expecting that, but I like the warmth of him next to me.
Whispering his name, I wrap am arm around his back and try to see him through the dark. My efforts don't really do much, especially when he presses closer and rests his face in the crook of my neck. He's warm, and it's surprisingly comfortable to have his thin frame snuggled up next to me like this, but I'm still wondering if this is a good idea. I've done pretty well with keeping my distance from him, behaving myself. Knowing that it was me he came to tonight and holding him close like this, it's harder than ever to deny my feelings for him. I'm going to regret this, but maybe I should just enjoy being with him right now and focus on getting him in a better mood.
"Jaeseop," Kevin murmurs. There's a light breath, and then I realize that he's crying again. "Thank you."
Shifting on the bed, I manage to slide my other arm under him and pull him into a tighter hug. Whatever this is, I don't like it. Bad dreams don't do this. "What's going on?"
"That dream I had," he whispers. Something about the way he says it tells me that it was more than just a dream. What more, I have no idea, but it seems important.
"What about it?"
"It was a dream about you. About you... leaving." The words are quiet and hurried, like he's halfway hoping that I won't actually hear him. I kind of wish that I hadn't, because those words are enough to make my heart squeeze painfully. "You were going to school," he tells me. "And when I woke up, I thought you were already gone. I panicked. I thought I had... missed you."
We all know that this school thing is something that has to happen. My leaving isn't exactly unexpected, even though I'll come back. Considering that, I don't understand why the simple thought of not seeing me go would bother him this much. So much that he'd wake up in a panic because of it. I don't understand, and that bothers me.
"I'm right here," I tell him. My arms tighten around him as I feel him shake a little more. He shouldn't be upset like this. Not at all. "I haven't left yet. I'm not leaving for a few more days. Calm down, Kevin."
"I am calm!" he protests instantly. All of those tears vanish in a minor bout of agitation. "I just don't want you to go."
Those last few words are incredibly soft. More things he doesn't really want me to hear. "Is my leaving really that bad?"
Kevin misses all of our friends when they're away, or when we don't get to see people we care about when we're on tour or something. That's a given. I don't think he's ever gone to any of their rooms in the middle of the night to tell them that. Between that and our recent, polite distance, this just adds to my confusion.
Pressing his face into my shirt, Kevin just huffs and doesn't answer my question. Maybe he doesn't like me asking about it, or maybe he doesn't know what to say. I wish I could read his mind.
"It's only for a few months, you know." That's the truth. It'll go by in the blink of an eye, and I'm sure it won't even come up after I get back. "You won't even notice that I'm not here."
"I don't like it." Somehow, I was kind of suspecting that he didn't like it. He swallows hard and settles closer to me. The distance from earlier is gone. Now, it's like he's trying to hide himself against my chest.
I wish he'd tell me more. "You don't like it? Why?"
Silence meets my question. His breaths change, though, picking up and then slowing down as Kevin sorts through whatever thoughts he has running through his head. If I couldn't feel his fingers gripping the edges of my shirt, I might think that he had fallen asleep.
"When you're not here," he starts, "nothing seems... right. It's not the same. I'm not happy. Things just aren't the same."
The least eloquent speech I've ever heard from him in a while, and it still hits home with me. Over these past few months, all that I've wanted is just a little time with him. Just a little more, not much. Now that it's time for me to head back to school, it looks like he finally feels some small amount of the same thing. Too little, but he'll never be too late. Not for me.
"I'm sorry." Leaning down, I press a kiss to his hair. He freezes, all of his shivering fading momentarily. He isn't shaking now, but I can hear his breathing hitch. He's crying again and I hate that. "Don't cry over something like this. It's not worth it. Please, don't cry," I whisper, giving him a squeeze.
"Sorry." His turn to apologize. "I just wish..."
Kevin doesn't finish the words and I'm glad. I don't know if I really want to hear whatever it was that he was going to say. Talking to him like this, in a situation like this, makes me wish for something else, too. I wish that this situation was more than just comforting a friend who keeps me at a distance.
Does he have any idea what he's doing to me? He probably does. Kevin isn't an idiot, and I've never been quiet about the way I feel. He's made it clear that he wants me to keep my distance. When the cameras aren't rolling, when people can't see, it's a little different. A little, but not enough to make me happy.
Even our improved friendship over the past year has its limits. Those limits are clear-cut and obvious. Anything too close or too personal is out of the question. Those lines get crossed when we're in public, but it's all for the cameras. All so that he can look better, feel better. I don't think he cares that it tears me apart to have him push closer only to pull away when it doesn't improve our publicity. There's nothing like this. Nothing like him coming to me at three in the morning asking me to hold him.
"I don't understand why you're doing this," I tell him. I'm expecting him to push me away, or brush the statement off, or maybe even feign being asleep. He doesn't. Instead, he just kind of collapses against me. All of that strength in the hand he has tangled in my shirt and all of that tension in his shoulders leaves.
"I know. I'm sorry."
It's only a few words, but it's enough to erase some of the unease that I'm feeling. Maybe I'm not the only one struggling with our friendship, or whatever you want to call it.
My own tension is fading. Having him next to me relaxes me. It always has, even if our conversation should probably be driving me crazy with frustration. He's always had this effect on me, even when I'm wound up or mad. He's telling me that he doesn't want me to leave. That's more open than he's been with me in months. Maybe I should give a little of that back. That might help him, and it might help me, too.
"I don't want to leave," I admit softly. I love school, and I'm working hard for the future, but what I said is true, too. I wish that I could stay here with all of them. With them. "But I didn't know you wanted me to stay."
There, that got me a response. Kevin's hand on my side is sliding further around my waist, holding onto me tightly. He's been saying that he doesn't want me to leave. Now I can feel that he means it. I just wish that he was holding onto me for the same reasons that I'm holding him close. I wonder if he can feel how quickly my heart is beating.
This isn't the same for him. I love him. He doesn't feel the same. While it might not always seem like it, I've accepted that. This has nothing to do with love, or desire, or anything like that. This is just Kevin, telling me in his own way that he really will miss me when I'm gone. Closeness is his way of talking sometimes, and I'm trying my best to understand those words.
It's a risk, too much of a risk, and I know that he might pull away and leave, but there's something else that I want to tell him. Something he might not want to know.
"You don't have to worry. I'll be back soon enough." Those words are easy enough. They're just a repeat of what I said earlier. The ones that follow are harder, and yet they still escape my mouth before I can stop them. "You're the reason I come back. You always have been."
Kevin's fingers dig into my skin through my shirt as the words sink into the silence between us. His breath is hitching again and I know that he's at least heard what I said. I thought that he might pull away after hearing me say something like that, but he's doing just the opposite. He presses closer, his face crammed so heavily against my shoulder that it actually kind of hurts. He mutters something, but I can't make out the words. He's crying again. I told him not to cry, but I just seem to be making it worse.
He leans against me as I damn myself for causing him more trouble. He doesn't seem to be nearly as upset anymore, though. His breathing slows as my fingers rub circles up and down his spine. I'm just hoping that he can fall asleep soon. I won't. I can't. For once, I have Kevin in my arms. He's been telling me that he doesn't want me to go. This is too much for me to take. I need every moment of my thoughts to both hold onto him and to get myself ready to leave him behind entirely. For him, this is one night of conflict and whatever heartache he's feeling. He wants me to stay? The words aren't actually much, and I don't need them to fuel hope that I know has no point. That doesn't change the fact that I wish he had told me that months ago.
"Can I ask one more favor?" he whispers. He isn't asleep.
"Of course." As always, there is no other answer. He could ask for the moon and I'd find a way to get it for him. "What is it?"
Rather than answer, Kevin pulls away a little. His arm slides away from me as he scoots back a bit on the mattress. My eyes have adjusted a bit to the darkness, but it's still hard to make out the expression on his face. I may not be able to see him well, but I can feel the touch as his fingers press against the side of my face. They slide up my temple and into my hair, tugging lightly at the strands as they move. Then he lets that same hand slide down the side of my face, tracing across my cheek and down to my chin. His touch is light on my jaw, thumb tracing the outline.
He has never touched me like this. Affection is common with all of the members, especially for him, but this isn't the same. There's something desperate about the way that he's brushing his fingers over my skin, like he's trying to hold onto me from a distance. There is determination behind the gentle press of skin against mine, but I don't know what he means by it.
"Kevin..."
He has scooted away, but just now it doesn't feel right to have this distance between us. My hand is still wrapped around him, though not as snugly as before. Tightening my hold, I try to scoot him closer. He gives in a little, focusing instead on the way he's touching my face. I let my eyes slide closed, feeling his hand drift over them so lightly that I can barely feel them. He doesn't respond to my mention of his name at all. He just keeps on exploring with that hand.
A thumb traces its way down the bridge of my nose. Then, I feel his fingertips against my bottom lip. I have a half-second to recognize that feeling before it's gone and replaced with something much softer and warmer; Kevin is kissing me. He presses his lips to mine and all that I can register is surprise. That was the very last thing I had expected from him. By the time I can respond, he is already pulling away.
"Sorry," he murmurs. He shifts further away on the mattress, sitting up before I can even try to grab him. He's almost halfway off the bed before I reach out and grab his wrist. Does he really think a kiss is something to apologize for?
"Kevin, wait."
He pauses, turning almost imperceptibly towards me again. All of those rough breaths, all of that tightness in his muscles is there again, this time for a completely different reason.
"Don't go." That's all I can think to say as I tug on his wrist, pulling him back towards me. I need to know what all of this is about. I need to know why he kissed me. And yet, I know he still might leave.
For several intense seconds, he stares at me from the edge of the bed. Then, slowly, he slides back onto the mattress. When he falls down onto the sheets, he catches himself on one hand. Less than an inch from my face, I can feel his breath on my lips. A chill winds its way up my back. I have no idea how all of this got started, or when Kevin decided that it was okay for us to be close. I'm not going to second guess it.
I'm still tangled in the blankets as I lean forward and brush our lips together softly. At first, I think it's his turn to not-respond. And then, slowly, Kevin's lips begin to move against mine. He's hesitant, but he isn't leaving. Instead, he parts his lips and pushes closer. This is him responding. My heartbeat speeds up as I realize what's happening. He's kissing me. Really kissing me, and I give in as I get the first real taste of his mouth.
This isn't a favor. This is perfect.
Now it's my hands on his face. My fingers find their way to his neck, sliding up skin so that I can trace across his jaw and slide my hand into his hair. Tilting his head makes it easier to kiss him. My hand on his wrist pulls him closer, and I can feel his hand and then his arm sliding onto my shoulder. I've been holding back forever, never able to have him like this. Now, I'm starting to realize that he has been holding back, too.
This might be the only chance I've got to have him near me like this. I want to tell him everything I can through this amazing kiss. The thickness of his lip between mine, the taste of his tongue and the sounds of those soft breaths of his. These things are details I will never forget. That thought pulls at my mind even as our movements slow and Kevin begins to pull away, just far enough that we're sharing the same breath.
"That's the favor you wanted to ask?" I can barely breathe, the words panted against his open mouth.
Kevin shakes his head, and he's so close that I can feel our lips brushing together. He must feel it, too, because he's leaning in again, stealing another small kiss before pulling back to catch his breath. "That wasn't it."
"What was it, then?"
"When you come back from Columbia," he murmurs, "come back to me."
Rating: G
Pairing: JaeVin
Summary: A bad dream causes Kevin to knock on AJ's door in the middle of the night.
Notes: For my Alex. She inspires me.
Three in the morning and you'd think that there wouldn't be anything to distract me. None of the others are awake. Hoon's not taking the top bunk since he's out visiting friends. The television isn't blaring in the living room of our suite. The morning is clear on our schedules tomorrow, and for once I'm left with the peace and quiet of my own thoughts to keep me company.
That's not really a bad thing, not usually. Tonight, it kind of is. There's only a week before I leave for Columbia. That's seven days -- six, now -- for me to make sure that I've got everything in order, all of those markers on my to-do list checked off. There's an entire laundry list of things to do, but I can't focus on any of it. My entire mind seems wound up around something, or rather someone, else.
Since I came back from school last time, Kevin and I have been close. Maybe more than close, but it's not like it ever went anywhere. I've enjoyed this friendship between us. Yeah, I might wish it was more, but I'll take what I can get. Up until a few weeks ago, what I could get was his company and good conversation. Maybe a hug if I was feeling down, or if he needed a bit of comfort himself. Now? Nothing. He's been keeping his distance, shooting me unreadable looks during downtime and pulling away when he used to almost give in. I don't understand, and it's made it almost impossible to concentrate.
Relaxing on the bed, I'm going through the notebook that I've managed to organize all of my last minute errands and school review notes into. Under the light of my lamp, I'm looking everything over and deciding what to take care of tomorrow. At least, that's what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm just sort of zoning out as I try not to think about him. I'm not supposed to and I know it. Just one more bad habit I need to break. My thin thoughts are interrupted with an unexpected banging on my bedroom door. Someone is actually knocking, and the sound is jarring. I almost jolt off the bed, my notes scattering on the floor. Nobody is supposed to be awake right now.
There's no point in wondering who it is. I might as well get up and check. Heaving a sigh and the rest of my notes off my lap, I manage to shuffle across the floor and get the door open. When I do, I can't help but blink in surprise.
"Hi." Kevin's voice is soft as he glances up at me, quickly looking away. I can barely see him in the dim light from the lamp, but I can tell that he's a mess. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and he looks bleary-eyed. His flannel pajamas are halfway unbuttoned like he couldn't quite get comfortable in them.
Pushing away my confusion, I respond the only way I can. "Hi." When he doesn't respond, I add, "You're up late, aren't you?"
Kevin just shakes his head, and it occurs to me that nobody gets up in the middle of the night just to say hi. That's when I see it. He isn't just bleary-eyed. His face is red and a little swollen. He's been crying.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concern quickly replacing my confusion.
Staring at the floor, Kevin doesn't really seem to have an answer. Even though he isn't saying anything, I doubt that he came to me so he could stand out in the hall. Stepping back a little, I move my arm in a gesture guiding him inside. He follows, walking past me. Shutting the door behind him, I turn to look at him, only to find him facing the other direction.
All of those thoughts from earlier have returned. Our friendship has become so distance that I'm at a loss for what to do. I want to walk over to him, put my hand on his shoulder and pull him into a hug. Whatever the problem is, it looks like maybe a hug is something that might help. Now, though, I'm not sure whether or not he would let me. That's part of why I've been counting down the days to Columbia; they're also the days until this uneasiness is taken away. Or, rather, left behind.
Finally, Kevin takes a breath. He sinks in on himself a little, shrinking a bit as he stares out my window. "I had a bad dream," he tells me. The words are so quiet that I can barely make them out.
"Okay..." Now I know why he's upset, but that doesn't really eliminate my confusion. My hands are clenching at my side. I don't like not understanding, and I don't like not being able to help. "You had a bad dream, so you came to see me?"
Wrapping his arms around himself, Kevin nods and turns a little to look at me. I wish I could read that look in his eyes, but I can't. Maybe the fact that he's crying is blurring his emotions for me. "I wondered if I could ask a favor," he says.
Kevin has never asked a favor from me a day in his life. I mean, not counting begging me to buy him a shirt or lunch or something, but things like that don't really count. This sounds a lot more serious, and whatever it is that's on his mind apparently matters enough to bring him to me. I'm not sure I could say no to that even if I wanted to.
Reaching up, I scratch my head. "What kind of favor?"
"Would you... give me a hug?"
The question sounds so hopeful that it's almost enough to break my heart. This is something that Kevin's never done, either. Asked me to hug him. Sure, he's done it when we're on stage. Maybe in front of cameras a time or two. That's for an audience, all of it a show. This is something different, something private.
I'm hesitating, not sure whether or not I should give in, but it's impossible to refuse the look of hopelessness on Kevin's face. I can't stand him looking like that, like he's just been through the worst thing in the world. He bites his lip and I can't wait any longer. Taking two broad steps towards him, I place a hand on his shoulder and pull him up against me.
Little by little, Kevin folds himself completely against my chest, his arms pressing up against me as he rests his head on my shoulder. I knew he was crying, but I didn't know that he was shaking. There are little tremors running through every inch of his body. I can feel them under my arms as I hold him, and under my fingers as I rub his back soothingly. I've never seen him like this, and I don't like it even if it has pulled him into my arms for a few sweet minutes.
"What on earth was that dream about?" I ask him, giving him a little squeeze and wishing that I could do more for him. "You're shaking, baby."
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
I didn't actually expect a response. Definitely not that response. He pulls away from me a little, just enough that he can rest his forehead on my arms. Apparently there isn't enough room between us for that admission of his. My arms are still around him, but loosely. This isn't a hug anymore, but somehow I don't think he cares. He just stays that way, letting his words hang in the air while he breathes against my shoulder.
Is Columbia really at the heart of all of this? My upcoming trip, or move, or whatever you want to call it, has taken over a significant portion of my life. Hell, outside of work and brief stints with friends, it is my life now. I didn't think it really affected the others. Not really. They might miss me, sure, but it's not like it's the first time that I've been gone.
There is a selfish part of me that wants to say that Kevin didn't miss me the last time I left. That's a lie and I know it. He and I don't talk about it. There wouldn't be any point. We're friends now, or at least we were, and I've accepted that.
I have no idea what to tell him, especially with thoughts like that running through my mind. I tighten my arms around him a little, trying to pull him closer again. I don't get to hold him like this very often.
"I'm sorry," I murmur into his hair. That's all that I can say.
This closeness is something that I have been needing. Sure, it's the middle of the night. Really, neither of us should be awake. But maybe this is my chance to say good-bye. Kevin is affectionate with all of us, but he rarely lets me hold him like this. This is the conversation that we never have, told with no real words and nothing but quietness. He is upset. No matter what happens or has happened between us, I will always be there to offer whatever comfort he needs. I just don't understand why my leaving seems to be the reason he's falling to pieces in the first place.
Slowly, the upset in him seems to drain away. I can feel him relaxing a little, his hands no longer balled up against my chest. His fingers flatten against my shirt, and then he slides them down so that he can halfway return the hold. His arms wrap loosely around my waist. He asked for a favor; he didn't say how badly he needed this.
"You want to sit down?" I ask, rubbing his back. Kevin is still shaking, even if not as badly as he was. I'm not sure whether it's because he's upset or if he might be cold. Either way, I think we'll both feel steadier when we're seated.
Against my shoulder, Kevin just nods. He follows the movement as I pull us both down to sit on the edge of the bed. He leans into my arms, relaxing minutely when he doesn't have to concentrate on remaining on his feet. I have to move a little to sit comfortably. He doesn't protest, just shifts with the awkwardness of the movement, pressing his face into my shirt.
I like feeling him like this. Warm. Not standoffish. Not pushing me away like he used to, and is starting to do again.
"I'm glad you came to see me," I tell him. My fingers run down the back of his shirt, following the rhythm of his breathing. My thoughts right now are jumbled, and my feelings are confused, but I am glad. My reasons might not be entirely selfless, but this is as comforting for me as it apparently is for him. This is probably the last chance I'll get to be alone with him before I leave. I just wish I had something more worthwhile to say.
Kevin leans into me, murmuring wordlessly. "Can I ask another favor?"
I'm resting my head on his, my lips pressed to his hair. He smells of shampoo; vanilla, and it's just enough to distract me from the thoughts I'm trying to ignore. He already knows the answer.
"Ask me anything," I reply, "and you know I'll say yes."
Kevin hums lightly, pulling back a little further. "Can I stay here tonight? With you?"
My breath catches in my throat at the words, but they aren't as much of a surprise as they should be. He doesn't like to sleep alone and I know that very well. He usually spends his night snuggled up with whoever shares his hotel room. Kiseop, now. Sometimes Eli, if he's up for it. I'm never at the top of the list, but apparently he doesn't mind my company right now. Tonight, it's me he wants to comfort him.
Still, I'm not sure if I should actually let him stay. Whatever this dream was that he had, it was enough to lead him to my room, but I don't think it would be appropriate. He clearly needs someone to hold him, but the reasons I would agree are very different from the reasons that he wants me to. We both know this, and there's no point in mentioning it.
The thought of letting him stay the rest of the night in my room, maybe even my bed, is enough to make me instantly happy, but there are other things to think about. My mind ticks over a small list; packing, school review, bills. All things that I need to take care of still. Sleep's kind of important, too, and I doubt I'll get much of it if he's sharing my room for the night. Tallying all of those things up, I already know that nothing matters to me as much as Kevin.
"You can stay here if you want, yeah," I tell him. The way he's leaning against me makes me wonder if his request wasn't partially motivated in part by exhaustion. Pulling back a little, I move my hand to his shoulders. "Are you tired?"
The look he gives me is enough to answer that question. He's almost pouting, and it's all I can do to stop myself from leaning forward to kiss his forehead. Instead, I get to my feet and pull him up with me so I can pull back the covers on my bunk. Then it occurs to me that I'm not sure if he actually wants to share the mattress, or if he just wanted someone else in the room. The best way to find out is to ask.
"Are you wanting to share, or do you want me to take Hoon's bed?" I ask, trying to figure out how to word that without being awkward.
"We can share." It's a statement, but it sounds more like a request. Not necessarily a happy one. "I don't want to be alone right now."
There is nothing I can do except tug the covers back. I slide under the covers, waiting for him. It's easier if I'm by the wall. This isn't like Kevin. I've never seen him this needy, not with me. If he changes his mind, he'll have an easier time leaving if he's the one on the edge of the bed.
Kevin doesn't seem to notice my considerations. From where I'm lying on the mattress, he looks surprisingly vulnerable. There's something about the way he's fidgeting, about how he's looking at me but not really seeing me, that makes my heart go out to him. I don't like seeing him upset like this, and I definitely don't like being the cause of it. At least he isn't crying anymore. That makes a difference. Still, if he wasn't the one asking to sleep here tonight, I'd think that he was having second thoughts.
The look on his face stays in place as he sits down on the edge of the bed. He tugs the blankets over him, lying down and resting his head on my second pillow. He's facing me. His skin is still damp with tears, his expression conflicted. I'm not really sure what to do with this, but I wish that he could relax a little.
"Kevin," I murmur, "are you okay?"
He shakes his head, looking at me for a moment before he turns his eyes away. There's no point in asking again. Instead, I roll a little and reach up to turn off the lamp. The room is plunged into darkness, and I'm left with the awkward, quiet space between us on my small mattress. Even I can't relax like this, not when I have no idea what to do now. I don't know if he wants to be close, or if he would rather that I keep my distance. Maybe what he wants isn't the question. What does he need right now?
My question is answered when he shifts on the bed. His hand tangles in my shirt; I can feel the pressure from his fingers. I'm a bit surprised, but he doesn't seem to mind. Kevin just slides across the sheets, settling against my chest and gently resting an arm on my side. I wasn't expecting that, but I like the warmth of him next to me.
Whispering his name, I wrap am arm around his back and try to see him through the dark. My efforts don't really do much, especially when he presses closer and rests his face in the crook of my neck. He's warm, and it's surprisingly comfortable to have his thin frame snuggled up next to me like this, but I'm still wondering if this is a good idea. I've done pretty well with keeping my distance from him, behaving myself. Knowing that it was me he came to tonight and holding him close like this, it's harder than ever to deny my feelings for him. I'm going to regret this, but maybe I should just enjoy being with him right now and focus on getting him in a better mood.
"Jaeseop," Kevin murmurs. There's a light breath, and then I realize that he's crying again. "Thank you."
Shifting on the bed, I manage to slide my other arm under him and pull him into a tighter hug. Whatever this is, I don't like it. Bad dreams don't do this. "What's going on?"
"That dream I had," he whispers. Something about the way he says it tells me that it was more than just a dream. What more, I have no idea, but it seems important.
"What about it?"
"It was a dream about you. About you... leaving." The words are quiet and hurried, like he's halfway hoping that I won't actually hear him. I kind of wish that I hadn't, because those words are enough to make my heart squeeze painfully. "You were going to school," he tells me. "And when I woke up, I thought you were already gone. I panicked. I thought I had... missed you."
We all know that this school thing is something that has to happen. My leaving isn't exactly unexpected, even though I'll come back. Considering that, I don't understand why the simple thought of not seeing me go would bother him this much. So much that he'd wake up in a panic because of it. I don't understand, and that bothers me.
"I'm right here," I tell him. My arms tighten around him as I feel him shake a little more. He shouldn't be upset like this. Not at all. "I haven't left yet. I'm not leaving for a few more days. Calm down, Kevin."
"I am calm!" he protests instantly. All of those tears vanish in a minor bout of agitation. "I just don't want you to go."
Those last few words are incredibly soft. More things he doesn't really want me to hear. "Is my leaving really that bad?"
Kevin misses all of our friends when they're away, or when we don't get to see people we care about when we're on tour or something. That's a given. I don't think he's ever gone to any of their rooms in the middle of the night to tell them that. Between that and our recent, polite distance, this just adds to my confusion.
Pressing his face into my shirt, Kevin just huffs and doesn't answer my question. Maybe he doesn't like me asking about it, or maybe he doesn't know what to say. I wish I could read his mind.
"It's only for a few months, you know." That's the truth. It'll go by in the blink of an eye, and I'm sure it won't even come up after I get back. "You won't even notice that I'm not here."
"I don't like it." Somehow, I was kind of suspecting that he didn't like it. He swallows hard and settles closer to me. The distance from earlier is gone. Now, it's like he's trying to hide himself against my chest.
I wish he'd tell me more. "You don't like it? Why?"
Silence meets my question. His breaths change, though, picking up and then slowing down as Kevin sorts through whatever thoughts he has running through his head. If I couldn't feel his fingers gripping the edges of my shirt, I might think that he had fallen asleep.
"When you're not here," he starts, "nothing seems... right. It's not the same. I'm not happy. Things just aren't the same."
The least eloquent speech I've ever heard from him in a while, and it still hits home with me. Over these past few months, all that I've wanted is just a little time with him. Just a little more, not much. Now that it's time for me to head back to school, it looks like he finally feels some small amount of the same thing. Too little, but he'll never be too late. Not for me.
"I'm sorry." Leaning down, I press a kiss to his hair. He freezes, all of his shivering fading momentarily. He isn't shaking now, but I can hear his breathing hitch. He's crying again and I hate that. "Don't cry over something like this. It's not worth it. Please, don't cry," I whisper, giving him a squeeze.
"Sorry." His turn to apologize. "I just wish..."
Kevin doesn't finish the words and I'm glad. I don't know if I really want to hear whatever it was that he was going to say. Talking to him like this, in a situation like this, makes me wish for something else, too. I wish that this situation was more than just comforting a friend who keeps me at a distance.
Does he have any idea what he's doing to me? He probably does. Kevin isn't an idiot, and I've never been quiet about the way I feel. He's made it clear that he wants me to keep my distance. When the cameras aren't rolling, when people can't see, it's a little different. A little, but not enough to make me happy.
Even our improved friendship over the past year has its limits. Those limits are clear-cut and obvious. Anything too close or too personal is out of the question. Those lines get crossed when we're in public, but it's all for the cameras. All so that he can look better, feel better. I don't think he cares that it tears me apart to have him push closer only to pull away when it doesn't improve our publicity. There's nothing like this. Nothing like him coming to me at three in the morning asking me to hold him.
"I don't understand why you're doing this," I tell him. I'm expecting him to push me away, or brush the statement off, or maybe even feign being asleep. He doesn't. Instead, he just kind of collapses against me. All of that strength in the hand he has tangled in my shirt and all of that tension in his shoulders leaves.
"I know. I'm sorry."
It's only a few words, but it's enough to erase some of the unease that I'm feeling. Maybe I'm not the only one struggling with our friendship, or whatever you want to call it.
My own tension is fading. Having him next to me relaxes me. It always has, even if our conversation should probably be driving me crazy with frustration. He's always had this effect on me, even when I'm wound up or mad. He's telling me that he doesn't want me to leave. That's more open than he's been with me in months. Maybe I should give a little of that back. That might help him, and it might help me, too.
"I don't want to leave," I admit softly. I love school, and I'm working hard for the future, but what I said is true, too. I wish that I could stay here with all of them. With them. "But I didn't know you wanted me to stay."
There, that got me a response. Kevin's hand on my side is sliding further around my waist, holding onto me tightly. He's been saying that he doesn't want me to leave. Now I can feel that he means it. I just wish that he was holding onto me for the same reasons that I'm holding him close. I wonder if he can feel how quickly my heart is beating.
This isn't the same for him. I love him. He doesn't feel the same. While it might not always seem like it, I've accepted that. This has nothing to do with love, or desire, or anything like that. This is just Kevin, telling me in his own way that he really will miss me when I'm gone. Closeness is his way of talking sometimes, and I'm trying my best to understand those words.
It's a risk, too much of a risk, and I know that he might pull away and leave, but there's something else that I want to tell him. Something he might not want to know.
"You don't have to worry. I'll be back soon enough." Those words are easy enough. They're just a repeat of what I said earlier. The ones that follow are harder, and yet they still escape my mouth before I can stop them. "You're the reason I come back. You always have been."
Kevin's fingers dig into my skin through my shirt as the words sink into the silence between us. His breath is hitching again and I know that he's at least heard what I said. I thought that he might pull away after hearing me say something like that, but he's doing just the opposite. He presses closer, his face crammed so heavily against my shoulder that it actually kind of hurts. He mutters something, but I can't make out the words. He's crying again. I told him not to cry, but I just seem to be making it worse.
He leans against me as I damn myself for causing him more trouble. He doesn't seem to be nearly as upset anymore, though. His breathing slows as my fingers rub circles up and down his spine. I'm just hoping that he can fall asleep soon. I won't. I can't. For once, I have Kevin in my arms. He's been telling me that he doesn't want me to go. This is too much for me to take. I need every moment of my thoughts to both hold onto him and to get myself ready to leave him behind entirely. For him, this is one night of conflict and whatever heartache he's feeling. He wants me to stay? The words aren't actually much, and I don't need them to fuel hope that I know has no point. That doesn't change the fact that I wish he had told me that months ago.
"Can I ask one more favor?" he whispers. He isn't asleep.
"Of course." As always, there is no other answer. He could ask for the moon and I'd find a way to get it for him. "What is it?"
Rather than answer, Kevin pulls away a little. His arm slides away from me as he scoots back a bit on the mattress. My eyes have adjusted a bit to the darkness, but it's still hard to make out the expression on his face. I may not be able to see him well, but I can feel the touch as his fingers press against the side of my face. They slide up my temple and into my hair, tugging lightly at the strands as they move. Then he lets that same hand slide down the side of my face, tracing across my cheek and down to my chin. His touch is light on my jaw, thumb tracing the outline.
He has never touched me like this. Affection is common with all of the members, especially for him, but this isn't the same. There's something desperate about the way that he's brushing his fingers over my skin, like he's trying to hold onto me from a distance. There is determination behind the gentle press of skin against mine, but I don't know what he means by it.
"Kevin..."
He has scooted away, but just now it doesn't feel right to have this distance between us. My hand is still wrapped around him, though not as snugly as before. Tightening my hold, I try to scoot him closer. He gives in a little, focusing instead on the way he's touching my face. I let my eyes slide closed, feeling his hand drift over them so lightly that I can barely feel them. He doesn't respond to my mention of his name at all. He just keeps on exploring with that hand.
A thumb traces its way down the bridge of my nose. Then, I feel his fingertips against my bottom lip. I have a half-second to recognize that feeling before it's gone and replaced with something much softer and warmer; Kevin is kissing me. He presses his lips to mine and all that I can register is surprise. That was the very last thing I had expected from him. By the time I can respond, he is already pulling away.
"Sorry," he murmurs. He shifts further away on the mattress, sitting up before I can even try to grab him. He's almost halfway off the bed before I reach out and grab his wrist. Does he really think a kiss is something to apologize for?
"Kevin, wait."
He pauses, turning almost imperceptibly towards me again. All of those rough breaths, all of that tightness in his muscles is there again, this time for a completely different reason.
"Don't go." That's all I can think to say as I tug on his wrist, pulling him back towards me. I need to know what all of this is about. I need to know why he kissed me. And yet, I know he still might leave.
For several intense seconds, he stares at me from the edge of the bed. Then, slowly, he slides back onto the mattress. When he falls down onto the sheets, he catches himself on one hand. Less than an inch from my face, I can feel his breath on my lips. A chill winds its way up my back. I have no idea how all of this got started, or when Kevin decided that it was okay for us to be close. I'm not going to second guess it.
I'm still tangled in the blankets as I lean forward and brush our lips together softly. At first, I think it's his turn to not-respond. And then, slowly, Kevin's lips begin to move against mine. He's hesitant, but he isn't leaving. Instead, he parts his lips and pushes closer. This is him responding. My heartbeat speeds up as I realize what's happening. He's kissing me. Really kissing me, and I give in as I get the first real taste of his mouth.
This isn't a favor. This is perfect.
Now it's my hands on his face. My fingers find their way to his neck, sliding up skin so that I can trace across his jaw and slide my hand into his hair. Tilting his head makes it easier to kiss him. My hand on his wrist pulls him closer, and I can feel his hand and then his arm sliding onto my shoulder. I've been holding back forever, never able to have him like this. Now, I'm starting to realize that he has been holding back, too.
This might be the only chance I've got to have him near me like this. I want to tell him everything I can through this amazing kiss. The thickness of his lip between mine, the taste of his tongue and the sounds of those soft breaths of his. These things are details I will never forget. That thought pulls at my mind even as our movements slow and Kevin begins to pull away, just far enough that we're sharing the same breath.
"That's the favor you wanted to ask?" I can barely breathe, the words panted against his open mouth.
Kevin shakes his head, and he's so close that I can feel our lips brushing together. He must feel it, too, because he's leaning in again, stealing another small kiss before pulling back to catch his breath. "That wasn't it."
"What was it, then?"
"When you come back from Columbia," he murmurs, "come back to me."