Soulless

Enfin

Jimin's fingers feel featherlike as he indistinctly traces any number of shapes and letters
along Yoongi's skin. Jimin's eyes are the prettiest shade of silver, there's a subtle string of violet woven within his color that seems to enamor Yoongi. He can't find the courage to take his eyes away from Jimin. He's afraid that if he were to look anywhere else, something would change. A piece of hair could move out of place, a new tear would fall down his cheek, the violet in his eyes could whirl into blue, or he might lick his lips and Yoongi would miss it.

Yoongi is most definitely confident that he could draw Jimin from memory. From his button nose all the way to his tiny pinky. Yoongi could do it in his sleep. Jimin has invaded every thought, feeling, memory, and decision Yoongi will ever have. Jimin has taken over his life. He lives for him now, just as Jimin breathes for Yoongi.

They live for each other.

And they can both feel it.

Whether such feelings need to be spoken out loud is easily dismissed. Jimin drawing endlessly on Yoongi's chest, every line and loop has such tenderness, such fondness that it would be pointless to have to say it out loud. They talk with their eyes, their touch, and sounds. Little words are needed, they both know it.

Yoongi knows Jimin is modest and shy in his affections. He would rather softly tell Yoongi, gently touch him as if he were saying the words 'I love you'. Jimin knows Yoongi is a quiet lover. He moves kindly, patiently, he flows with Jimin. Jimin watches the way Yoongi's eyes dim in adoration and endearment when he looks at Jimin. Jimin notices how Yoongi's breathing slows, and how he blinks slower when Jimin touches him. Like immediate relief washes over Yoongi in gentle, loving waves.

They both love quietly, soundlessly.

They lay next to one another. Facing each other. Jimin's arm moving at its own accord wherever he can touch Yoongi's skin. Yoongi is studying Jimin, watching and listening with admiration in his eyes.

They're both thoroughly exhausted from the previous day. They spent all of their time in Jimin's apartment, watching movies, playing games, fitting as many kisses and cuddles as they could. They talked for hours. Laying on the floor of Jimin's living room, fairy lights on the edges of the ceiling they gazed up like they were stars. Holding hands they took turns talking. They spoke of dreams, of hopes and fears. They wished of long life and love. Yoongi squeezed his hand and Jimin tugged on it in return. They wished for one other as well.

"You promised," Yoongi muttered.

Jimin sat up then, pressing a lingering kiss to Yoongi's wet cheeks, "I'll be here, with you."

Yoongi closed his eyes then, nodding in contentment.

As they lie on Jimin's bed, they just look and feel each other. Letting the world take its time, they lose themselves in one another. The neon lights outside Jimin's window cover both of them in a mask of sapphire hues. The room, it's colors and decor blend and bleed together as both men allow their eyes to turn unfocused. Letting each other fall together, in this state of calm.

Jimin breathes in softly, he whispers, "I think I want to touch you."

"You are." Yoongi hums.

"I want to touch you more, Yoongi."

"So do I."

They don't kiss. They don't speak. Jimin sits up, Yoongi follows. They sit, facing one another. Waiting. Remaining still. What for? Neither of them know. Maybe for the wind to change. For the blue inking their skin to turn purple or pink. For one to give in, for something to stop them. Nothing does. Everything is just as still as it was before, except tensions of all colors slither soundlessly out of their minds and onto their skin. Pulling them to one another. Forcing them together. The bond is impossible to ignore.