Collision of Verdicts

Silent Longing

The office was unusually quiet, the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the occasional shuffle of papers the only sounds that filled the large, shared workspace. Jimin and Yoongi, the managing partners of Kim’s Law Firm, were seated at the long mahogany desk, both immersed in the endless pile of paperwork they had to finish. The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, casting soft golden light on the room.

They worked in tandem, never needing to speak much. After years of being in each other's presence, they had developed an unspoken understanding. There was a rhythm to the way they worked together—Yoongi would handle the more intricate legal clauses while Jimin reviewed client documents and cases. It was effortless, almost too perfect. But lately, the silence between them felt different, as if it was charged with something neither of them could quite name.

“Jimin,” Yoongi’s deep voice broke through the quiet, “do we have the Kim-Seo merger contract?”

Jimin looked up from his pile of papers, his soft brown eyes locking with Yoongi’s. “Yeah, it’s right here,” he said, handing over the document, their fingers brushing slightly as Yoongi took it from him. The touch was brief but enough to send a tingle through Jimin’s skin. He quickly looked back down, pretending to focus on the papers in front of him, but his heart skipped a beat.

Yoongi, for his part, felt the contact too, though he didn’t let it show. He cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the contract, but the sudden tension in the room lingered.

An hour passed in peaceful silence, but there was something unspoken in the air between them. Jimin would glance at Yoongi when he wasn’t looking, taking in how his dark hair fell messily over his forehead, the way his glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose as he read through dense legal texts. Yoongi, too, would steal a glance at Jimin—the way his lips pressed together in concentration, how his fingers moved gracefully over the papers, and the soft furrow of his brow as he focused.

It was a dance they had been performing for weeks now, these stolen glances and lingering gazes. The silent acknowledgment of something deeper between them, something neither of them dared to say aloud.

---

As the afternoon dragged on, Yoongi leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “I swear, this paperwork never ends,” he muttered.

Jimin looked up from his own pile, noticing the tension in Yoongi’s shoulders. “You need a break,” he said softly. “You’ve been staring at those documents for hours.”

Yoongi sighed, rolling his neck in an attempt to loosen the stiffness. “What I really need is a head massage,” he mumbled, half-joking.

To his surprise, Jimin stood up and walked behind Yoongi’s chair, his movements calm and deliberate. “We’re supposed to be civil, right?” Jimin said, his voice light but carrying a hint of warmth. “Consider this an act of professionalism.” Without waiting for a response, he placed his hands gently on Yoongi’s temples, starting a slow, soothing massage.

Yoongi froze for a second, the unexpected touch sending a wave of warmth through him. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back into the chair, allowing himself to relax under Jimin’s gentle ministrations.

“You don’t have to do this,” Yoongi murmured, though he made no effort to stop Jimin.

“I know,” Jimin replied, his hands moving expertly, easing the tension in Yoongi’s scalp. “But it’s nice, isn’t it? A little break from all this paperwork.”

Yoongi hummed in response, too relaxed to argue. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of him in such a simple, intimate way. And it was Jimin. That was the part that made it feel different—more than just a friendly gesture.

Jimin continued the massage in silence, but his mind was racing. His hands moved automatically, yet his heart was pounding in his chest. Being this close to Yoongi, feeling the warmth of his skin under his fingers, the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of his breath—it was almost too much to handle.

There was something so peaceful about being with Yoongi like this, something comforting. Jimin found himself longing for more moments like these, where words weren’t necessary, and they could just exist in each other’s space. He had always admired Yoongi, but this was different. The lines between friendship and something deeper had started to blur, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

After a few minutes, Jimin pulled his hands away, stepping back. “There. Feel better?”

Yoongi opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the daze. “Yeah,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Thanks, Jimin.”

They exchanged a look, one that lasted just a bit too long to be casual. It was in that moment that both of them realized—things were changing between them. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but instead filled with the weight of things unsaid, feelings both of them were too afraid to confront.

---

Over the next few days, the same rhythm continued between them. They worked together, side by side, as managing partners should. But the atmosphere was different now. Jimin would glance over at Yoongi, catching him in quiet moments, and his heart would do that familiar little flip. Yoongi, too, had started to look forward to these moments, though he kept his feelings carefully hidden behind his usual calm exterior.

They had grown used to each other’s presence in ways that made the office feel more like home. The unspoken connection between them was undeniable now, but neither of them dared to break the delicate balance they had found. It was easier this way—existing in the calm, in the silence, where nothing had to be said.

And yet, every day, Jimin found himself looking forward to seeing Yoongi. Even if it was just a glance, a passing moment, it was enough. The quiet smiles, the occasional shared joke, the way Yoongi’s presence brought a sense of peace—Jimin lived for those moments now.

Yoongi, too, had started to linger in the office a little longer than necessary, just to catch an extra glimpse of Jimin as he worked. The feelings he had tried to suppress were beginning to surface, no matter how much he tried to ignore them. There was something about Jimin—his gentle nature, his quiet strength—that had always drawn Yoongi in. And now, it was becoming impossible to look away.

---

Late one evening, after another long day of work, they both found themselves sitting in the office, the rest of the staff having left for the day. The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the room as they finished the last of their paperwork.

Jimin looked up from his desk, catching Yoongi’s gaze across the room. For a moment, neither of them spoke. There was no need to. The silence between them was full of understanding, a shared feeling that neither had the courage to name.

Yoongi broke the silence first, his voice quiet. “I guess we’ve gotten pretty good at being civil.”

Jimin smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Civil.”

But they both knew it was more than that. This wasn’t just professionalism. This wasn’t just friendship. This was something deeper, something neither of them were ready to admit yet.

They returned to their work, the calm, peaceful silence settling over them once again. But the air between them was charged with the weight of their unspoken feelings, and they both knew it was only a matter of time before those feelings came to light.