...What the staff neglected to remember was that the price of a spacious, five-bed hotel room in Japan is higher than in Korea, much more than our current budget could allow.
"We had to make some compromises," our manager says to us in the lobby, handing each of us a copy of the room key in a ceremonial fashion, his expression inexplicably grave.
"It can't be that bad... right?" Yunho flashes some variation of his dozens of calculatedly disarming smiles, but it's demoted to an awkward half-smile when our manager says nothing.
When we step into our hotel room, the realization is immediate. We probably should've seen it coming.
.
.
It's a unique thing to experience, being sandwiched on a bed with four other men. It turns out being less obviously sexual than I would've imagined; the best way I can describe it is, it's less like an orgy and more like camping gone really, really wrong.
"Camping with four brothers in a kid-sized tent!" I yell to no one and laugh, combing over all traces of annoyance with manic exuberance.
Changmin's aggravation is almost palpable. "What the hell are you talking about?" he snaps from behind and nudges my back away from him, desperate for space. "This is just fucking ridiculous. How hard could it possibly be to rent out four extra beds?" He nudges me again, hard enough to bruise.
Junsu lets out a high-pitched whine from his side of the bed, and the mattress bounces as he kicks at air, heels pounding repeatedly into the bed. "Yoochun, why can't you just sleep on the floor? You're hogging my pillow!"
"Are you crazy? I can't sleep on the floor. I have a delicate bone structure that would be ruined by the floor's hard surface. You sleep on the floor!"
"Japanese beds can't possibly be that expensive. And stop kicking the goddamn mattress!"
"Yeah, Junsu, geez. So inconsiderate."
"Not as inconsiderate as you, pillow-hogger."
Yunho's chin is two inches from my forehead. His deep breaths drown out the sound of the others' banter; his exhalations tickle the tips of my hair. When he finally speaks, his voice is closer and louder than I've ever heard it. "We should be a little thankful, you guys. It's a miracle that all of us even fit on here."
I bite down on my lip and barely fight the reflex to laugh. What an absurdly mature thing to say. Typical Yunho. But even he doesn't bother faking a smile.
I poke him in the stomach. "As 'miraculous' as this whole thing is, the real miracle is how I've put up with your knee digging into my crotch the past ten minutes."
If I didn't know better, I would've sworn I saw him blushing. "...Jae, if I move my knee anywhere else, I'm going to fall off the bed."
"Laaaame excuse, man."
"Shut the hell up, Yoochun."
"Yeah, Yoochun, shut up and get off the b-mrrpgh!" Yoochun clamps a pillow over Junsu's head, pinning both ends of it with his hands. Junsu flails and kicks wildly, the movement of the mattress imitating the rise and fall of violent wave bumps. Yunho falls off in a matter of seconds. He grabs me around the waist at the last moment, and the two of us tumble gracelessly over the side of the bed.
"Morons," Changmin scoffs and slams a pillow against the side of my head. And at this very moment, I decide that it is officially on. The mattress creaks a chorus of protests under our singular kicking, shoving, tumbling mass, but it's barely audible over the barrage of obscenity-flinging and the cacophonic thumping of pillows against thinly-clothed backs.
When a truce is called on account of rapidly-escaping pillow feathers and all of us collapse back onto the bed in a tired heap, I notice something sharp pressing harder and harder into my shoulder blade. I try to lean away from it, until my chest is practically glued to Yunho's back, but the pressure is stubborn, unrelenting. "Fucking hell, Changmin, stab someone else with your pointy elbows."
I try to
