“Jae? What’s wrong,” asked Yunho, dropping the phone on the counter, feeling an unnatural sensation rise within him.

“It huuuurrrrrtsssss!”

Soap. Jae had soap in his eye. Yunho sighed. As tragic as Jae sounded right now, this was not the first time the soap-in-the-eye drama had played. Relieved, Yunho sighed.

“Jae, just lean back. Let the water wash it out. Don’t open your eye.” He paused to listen for a response. “Jae? Is it out?”

“Yea,” came the weak sounding response.

* * *

Emerging from the bathroom in a puff of steam, Jae came down the stairs, wrapped in his favorite hamster pajamas, hair wet and falling into his face, and barefooted. He sat down at the counter, watching Yunho make dinner. One of his favorite things to do whenever he came out of taking his shower for the night, was come and watch Yunho cook dinner. Jae put his chin in his hands, cocked his head prettily to one side, and watched his brother cook.

Yunho knew he was there. It was more than knowing it because Jae was always there when he cooked dinner. It was more than that. Yunho could feel Jae. He could feel his brother’s presence in a room. Just like when a pool of light falls on your hand, when a warm spring breeze caresses your cheek, when the first few drops of a summer’s night rain touch your skin-that was Jaejoong. About him, surrounding him, was an aura so special and so gentle; Yunho often thought to himself that he could be blind, deaf and dumb, but he would still know when his brother came into a room.

Turning, he saw the wide dark eyes watching his movements. His hair was drying now into a tussled mess. He looked beautiful. Yunho turned around. A hurt scratched at his heart. If only-if only there was something he could do. A way to fix this. How often had Yunho said to himself, sworn to himself, that he would give ten years of his life if only he could see Jaejoong lead a normal life. If only there was someone else to see him now, looking like a young prince who has just fallen out of a pleasant dream. Someone else to love him, to take care of him when-if there should ever be a day-

A soft touch fell on Yunho’s arm. He saw Jae’s fine slender fingers and turned to look at his brother. Jae looked hopeful.

“Yunho?” he asked. “Can I help tonight?”

Stepping back, Yunho handed the spoon he had been using to stir the sauce to Jae. And standing behind his brother, Yunho watched as Jae, his eyes sparkling with excitement, took the spoon and stirred the sauce.

“You be in charge of the sauce tonight, Jae. Okay?”

So, while Jae, with a dedication and concentration compared to none turned the spoon round and round, Yunho went to work cutting up the vegetables and meat. All the while, he kept one eye on Jaejoong.

A couple of times, Yunho almost cut his own finger with the knife, so much was his attention on Jae.

Because, of course, every time Jae stepped into the kitchen, Yunho remembered that one night of the pasta water. Back then, Jae was a little younger and Yunho a little less aware of just how much his brother needed to be watched. That evening, just like this one, Jaejoong asked if he could help with dinner. Yunho, thinking how much fun Jae would have with this, pretending to be a chef, gladly stepped aside. He knew, of course that everything couldn’t be left to Jae, but he saw no harm in letting the young man keep an eye on the noodles as they boiled. And this would leave Yunho a moment to go upstairs and wash his hands. Leaving Jae with a stern warning not to touch the noodles with his bare hands, but to test them using a fork to pull them out, Yunho left.

How many minutes was it? Not many. Yunho had barely stepped into the bathroom when a terrible crash sounded and Jae’s cry, wild and sheer, froze every vital pulse Yunho had. Did he run down the stairs? Did he just jump down over every one? Whatever it was, Yunho couldn’t seem to get back there fast enough. And he saw the entire pot of pasta spilled on the floor, the entire floor flooded with water, and Jaejoong, holding his hands, jumping up and down, tears running down his face, screaming. Yunho grabbed his brother, forced Jae to open his hands so he could see what happened. Those frail, pale hands were streaked red and beginning to swell and blister.

Yunho hated himself that night. It’s true everything turned out okay. And to this day, there was not a mark left on Jae’s hands as a reminder. But that night, holding his brother’s burned hands in his own, looking into those eyes that trusted him with his very soul-Yunho hated himself for letting it happen.

Of course, that was several years ago and Yunho had all but forgotten about it, but sometimes, just seeing Jae in front of the stove, brought the moment back.

*When dinner was done and Yunho was clearing away the dishes, Jae sat for a moment at the table. Yunho knew, that Jaejoong knew, that after dinner he was supposed to go and do his homework from school, or any piano practice Mrs. Morton may have given him. Every night after dinner, it never changed. But tonight, Jae sat at the table and stared down, a very concentrated expression on his face.

Yunho knew what he wanted. When they went to the store earlier, Yunho had bought ice cream. Jae wanted ice cream. Pausing for a moment form putting the dishes in the sink, Yunho looked at Jaejoong. The tongue was beginning to peek out of the corner of his mouth; it was a habit Jae had when something was on his mind. Yunho tried not to smile.

“What is it, Jae?”

The young man looked up, pressed his mouth very tightly and said, “Yunho? I-I finished all my dinner tonight, right?”

“Yea, you did. It was good.”

“And I’m all washed up for bed, too. Right?”

“Yea.”

Yunho waited. Waited to see how Jae was going to come to a conclusion.

“So, if I was really good. Could I have dessert tonight?”

The dark eyes were wide and hopeful. Yunho couldn’t say no.

“Well, I tell you what, Jae. I know Mrs. Morton gave you something to practice on the piano. Why don’t you go do that while I wash up for bed. And then when I get out, I’ll get you some ice cream.”

“Will you have some too? Can we have ice cream together?”

“Yea. We’ll have some together.” Jae started to clap his hands. ‘But Jae,” interrupted Yunho, “You have to eat the ice cream this time, not turn it into ice cream soup. Okay?”

“Oooookay.”

And with that, Jaejoong popped up from his seat and in a moment, Yunho heard the soft rippling sound of piano keys.

*After dinner, after ice cream, Jaejoong was climbing into bed, Yunho standing over him. Jae had a peculiar habit of putting one leg under the covers, and then the other, and then laying down. Once settled to his comfort, Yunho reached down and pulled the blanket up to Jae’s chin.

Then sitting down on the end of the bed, as was his custom every night, Yunho waited for Jae to close his eyes. It was not that when his younger brother closed his eyes meant he was asleep, it was that then, Jae had quieted himself enough to fall asleep. Yunho waited for those long dark lashes to fall upon skin so fair and pale.

“Yunho?”

“Close your eyes, Jae,” he answered.

“Yunho? Will you check first,” asked the boy, looking very earnestly at his older brother.

“Jae, I checked last night.”

“Please.”

“Alright,” replied Yunho, standing up and going over to the closet on the opposite end of the room. “But you gotta believe me, Jae. There are no such things as ghosts.”

“Yea,” came the meek response as Yunho got on his hands and knees to look under the bed. “But I feel better when you check.”

Standing again, Yunho came back alongside Jaejoong. “No ghosts. I wouldn’t let them.” He watched a small smile spread over Jae’s mouth. “Now, go to sleep.” And he placed his hand on Jae’s forehead.

Still smiling, the young man closed his eyes. Yunho stood to go. He walked to the edge of the room, and flicked off the light, ready to close the door behind him.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Jae.”

“Yunho, aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?”

“Y-yes,” croaked Yunho.

Yunho came back in the room, bent over his brother and kissed the cheek, so fair, so soft.

“Yunho,” said Jae, throwing his arms around his brother’s neck, kissing his cheek, “Yunho, I love you.”

In the dark, Jaejoong didn’t see Yunho close his eyes. He didn’t see the expression on his brother’s face change, become suddenly stern. He didn’t see Yunho press his lips together and swallow hard.

All he heard was the response. Whispered.

“I love you, too, Jaejoong.”