Some psychologists conducted a study, once, where they put pairs of people together and told them to stare into each other’s eyes for a while. They found that, by doing that, the intimacy between the pairs increased exponentially. They began to like each other – maybe even love each other.

Jaejoong reads about that somewhere, and he’s really not a science-y person – he failed that class three times – let alone a social science-y person, but he’s struck with inspiration. He wants to conduct his own experiment, see if that really works.

So one night, when he finds Changmin sitting quietly on a couch in their shared dorm, he marches up to him, plops down onto a clear space on the coffee table, rips his magazine out of his hand and – stares.

Changmin stares back. Jaejoong notes that flaring anger really makes his brown eyes pop.

“Jaejoong….what are you doing?”

“I’m doing an experiment.”

An exasperated sigh fills the room. “What?”

“Do me a favor. Just look into my eyes.”

“Why?”

“It’s part of the experiment.” He stops, ponders. “Actually, it is the experiment. So please, help me out.”

“No.” Changmin tries to get up, but Jaejoong’s arms spring out to catch his shoulders, gently forcing him back down.

“Come on, Minnie, please?”

“NO.”

“Pleaaaase?” Jaejoong pleads, eyes transforming from ‘human’ to ‘puppy’. “If you do this for me, I’ll make you all your favorite foods without question for a week straight.”

Changmin’s face falls. He’s been hit, in a really weak spot, and Jaejoong can tell he’s swung things in his favor. He fights a smirk.

The younger man gulps, and a scowl darkens his face. “You’ll do it for a month.”

Jaejoong succumbs to his urge to smirk. “Deal!”

Changmin folds his arms across his chest, eying him suspiciously. “So I just have to….look into your eyes?”

“Yep, that’s all you have to do.”

“Fine.”

“Thank youuuu!”

And so they stare.

Seconds turn into minutes. They both blink sparely, too quickly to register. Changmin unfolds his arms and wrings his hands. Jaejoong his lips and drums his fingers against his thigh. A clock ticks quietly in the background of their rapt examination of each other’s pupils.

Jaejoong can admit to himself that he really does love Changmin’s eyes. They are pretty, they remind him of the time he was watching National Geographic with Junsu’s mom in awkward silence and the camera panned into a fawn’s eyes in slow motion. They sparkle when he’s happy, spark when he’s excited, swirl and glisten when he’s drunk out of his mind. They reflect exasperated affection whenever he looks at Jaejoong. They cloud over with pleasure when he eats the dishes Jaejoong makes for him.

His heart beats a little faster. Maybe he’s on his way to proving that study right, after all.

Minutes turn into a half hour. Changmin fidgets in his seat a little, chewing on his bottom lip. Jaejoong tries his best not to focus on that, but it’s hard. Very hard. Too hard for a human being. He shakes his head a little and coughs.

Changmin lets out a breath. “How much longer do we have to do this?”

Jaejoong hasn’t thought about ‘how long’ – he doesn’t remember what time the article said it took for the pairs. He thinks it took significantly less time than a half hour, but for some reason, he doesn’t want to tell Changmin that.

“Oh, an hour should do.”

“Seriously? Another 30 minutes?”

“Hey, a month of my cooking is waiting for you in exchange for this.”

“….Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Jaejoong grins. They segue into silence again. Crickets join the clock’s rhythmic ticking. After a few minutes, the tap-tap-tap of Changmin’s foot does too.

Then, suddenly, Changmin speaks: “Hey….you remember that time, when we just got moved here, you were trying to cook something, like, really spicy, and you got chili powder in your eyes?”

Jaejoong blinks, his mind sliding back in time. He does remember. That was one of the most painful moments of his entire life. His eyes had burned and burned and he felt like he would never be able to open them again.

It was Changmin to the rescue – with a bottle of cold water, a washcloth, and a whole lot of derogatory words. That was one of the first times the role of ‘group mother’ had really shifted away from him to someone else. His turn to be smothered with concern and admonishments.

He smiles, remembering how Changmin’s face had come into focus after he had finally dared to open his eyes. He had pushed everyone else out of the way.

“Yeah, you really saved me there.”

“You were SUCH an idiot. I’ll never get your obsession with food that could probably burn villages down.”

That earns a peal of laughter from Jaejoong. Changmin cracks a smile, and his eyes light up with it.

Jaejoong’s breath stops for a second, hit suddenly with the realization of how utterly gorgeous and perfect Changmin is. Not just his eyes, or his lips, or any one part of him, but his whole self. From his outer attractiveness to his inner beauty. His insults and his jokes and how his smile stretches on for miles and how he loses all sense of civility when he’s at the dining table and how he just knows what to say to make Jaejoong’s sadness dissipate, to brighten his whole day.

Changmin’s eyes widen a fraction. Jaejoong doesn’t know what he sees. The urge to abort and run is serious. His cheeks are burning.

The clock ticks and ticks and ticks. There’s a new, unreadable look in Changmin’s eyes, and it makes Jaejoong both curious and unsettled. He really wants to look away, but his stubbornness holds him in place – Kim Jaejoong never leaves a task half-done – and he resorts to blinking rapidly in lieu of closing his lids altogether.

More minutes go by. He can hear Changmin’s foot start up again, faster this time, more impatient. Eager.

And he’s so engrossed in that, that tap tap tap sound, he doesn’t realize when the hour is up.

Changmin reminds him. “You know, it’s been five minutes since your experiment finished.”

Jaejoong breathes in, deeply, and sets his feet down. “Oh!”

“Yeah.”

He clears his throat, shuffling around, trying to think of something to say. “Well, that was….informative. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Alright then.” Jaejoong chuckles nervously, preparing to stand. “I’ll just get to – wha?!” He feels a strong grip on his shirt, and he’s being dragged from his perch on the coffee table. He yelps, as he falls.

Into Changmin’s lap.

Eyes and noses and lips inches apart, Jaejoong’s face begins to exhibit the deepest of reds that can exist.

“Changmin, what are you –?”

“Jae, I have an experiment to conduct, too.” Changmin says solemnly, his eyes locked onto Jaejoong’s. “I need your help.”

“What – what experiment?”

A positively evil, wicked, beautiful smile transforms Changmin’s face. “I want to see how far down your throat my tongue can go.”

Before Jaejoong’s mind goes blank, he thinks that it does work.

Minutes later, they both think that Changmin’s tongue can go very far indeed.

END