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It was four in the morning when BamBam snuck into Jackson’s room, nearly tripping over Mark’s outstretched legs. He climbed into Jackson’s bed and snuggled into the sleeping body he found there.
Jackson came awake with a snuffle and immediately pulled BamBam closer. “Homesick?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep.
BamBam merely sighed and nuzzled closer, let Jackson pull his head into the crook of his neck and tangle their legs.
Jackson’s hand combed through BamBam’s hair, affectionate. “Get some sleep,” he said, his voice quiet. And BamBam did.
It wasn’t really a regular occurrence, sleeping with Jackson. BamBam doesn’t get homesick that much. He’s been in this industry since he was a preteen, and he’s been forced to grow up faster because of it. He’s expected to work the same hours as his sunbaes, to be just as professional, just as polite. And so, sometimes, when the waves of homesickness crash over him– when he craves his mother’s cooking, or hanging out with his brothers, or even just the Thai humidity– usually, BamBam simply ignores it. He shoves the feeling down deep inside and chides himself.
You should be thankful, he reminds himself. Aren’t you grateful for everything you have?
And he is; he is grateful. All he’s ever wanted to be in his entire life is an idol in the K-Pop industry, he’s dreamed about it ever since he watched that first Rain music video. And somehow, miraculously, he’s achieved that dream.
But it’s still hard sometimes. And that’s why Jackson finds him crying in the common room after a particularly long skype call with his mother. Usually BamBam would just curl up in his bed, listen to some music, and try to zone out, but Yugyeom was in their room now, idly working on overdue homework assignments. Yugyeom was always kind and tried so, so hard to be understanding, but he couldn’t understand how BamBam felt, not really. Yugyeom lived a thirty-minute drive away from his parents and saw them almost every weekend. BamBam hadn’t been home in over a year.
And so BamBam sat on the couch, watching some dumb cat videos on Youtube to try and drown out the sound of his crying. It wasn’t working very well; for some reason the cat videos were only making him cry harder.
BamBam was in the midst of hitting the replay button on a video of a kitten getting tickled, sniffling all the while, when Jackson popped his head around the corner. “Everything alright in here?” he asked.
“Fine,” BamBam said, and willed his eyes to be less red.
Jackson crossed the room and sat down heavily next to him. He swung an arm over BamBam’s shoulders and squeezed him comfortingly. “I love cat videos, dude, lets watch some together.”
An hour later, tears forgotten, BamBam was curled into Jackson’s side, laughing so hard his stomach ached. They had moved from cat videos, to porcupine videos, to some really weird videos Jackson had suggested watching. They were currently watching some 15-second clip of a badly animated bear. BamBam didn’t know why it was so funny, but it was. “One more time, one more time,” he begged Jackson when it finished. They had already looped it at least seven times, and for some reason it got funnier every rewatch.
Jackson ruffled BamBam’s hair affectionately. “Maybe tomorrow. I should head to bed.”
“Aww,” BamBam whined against Jackson’s chest. He had slid down the couch until the top of his head was level with Jackson’s chin in order to curl up closer. He kind of missed when he was short enough to fit in Jackson’s arms easily.
“Sorry, baby BamBam. You should go to sleep too, we have to fly out at, like, seven, tomorrow.”
“I’m not even tired,” BamBam argued, then yawned.
Jackson laughed. “Yeah, right.”
BamBam sullenly ducked out from under the arm Jackson still had wrapped around his shoulders. “Okay, fine, go to sleep.”
“Aww, you’re such a teenager!” Jackson giggled, and pinched BamBam’s cheeks.
BamBam stuck his tongue out at him. For some reason, he felt like crying again.
“Hey,” Jackson said, and the hands on BamBam’s cheeks lowered to his shoulders. “Don’t be like that.”
Jackson’s gaze was tender and concerned, and just like that BamBam felt his eyes filling up with tears again.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Jackson comforted him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
BamBam shook his head jerkily.
“Okay, that’s fine. Just know if you do want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
BamBam was afraid if he said anything he’d start crying in earnest, so instead he flung his arms around Jackson and squeezed him into a desperate hug.
Jackson rubbed his back soothingly for a moment before clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’m sorry, but I really go have to get to bed. If you want you can come too.”
BamBam tried not to freeze in Jackson’s arms and tried to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart. “Okay,” he said, and pulled away to hastily scrub the tears off his face.
“Okay?” Jackson asked him dubiously.
BamBam smacked his shoulder. “You’re the one who asked me to sleep with you, don’t make it weird.”
Jackson laughed his trademark hyena laugh. “Alright, I won’t! Let’s go to bed, little BamBam.”
BamBam smacked Jackson’s shoulder again and followed him into his room. Mark was already conked out, splayed on his mattress. Jackson nudged him with his foot. “He looks so ugly when he sleeps,” he whispered, and giggled. BamBam couldn’t help but giggle too
Jackson dived into his bed and held the covers open for BamBam.
BamBam eyed the tiny mattress skeptically. “On second thought, maybe I should sleep in my own room…”
“Don’t be like that! There’s plenty of space.”
BamBam sighed and rolled his eyes but obediently crawled in next to Jackson. He tried to shove Jackson over with his elbow, but Jackson easily wrestled BamBam into his arms and snuggled him tightly.
BamBam wiggled against him. “No fair, I’m taller than you. Why do I have to be the little spoon?”
“You may be taller than me, but you’ll always be my baby.”
“Eww,” BamBam protested.
Jackson merely pulled him closer, breath tickling BamBam’s neck. “Stop that. Now go to sleep, baby BamBam.”
BamBam fell asleep with a smile on his face.
It was the first time he slept in Jackson’s bed, but it wasn’t the last. There was just something really comforting about sharing body heat with someone who understood him, someone who was going through the same things he was. Or at least, that was what BamBam told himself. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with the fluttery feeling he got in his stomach when Jackson held him, the brush of Jackson’s breath against his neck, or how Jackson’s face looked open and innocent when he slept.
Or maybe it had to do a lot with that. BamBam didn’t like to think about it too much. So at four in the morning, when he missed home so much he felt like crying, he snuck into Jackson’s room and Jackson’s welcoming arms. And curled up against Jackson, lying on a tiny mattress on the floor, BamBam realized that maybe he didn’t have to miss home so much. He had found a new one.