THE DAWN - VMIN ONE SHOTS

OUR BEAUTY IN INK

Taehyung had always loved to sketch. His world was made of lines and shadows, of charcoal dust on his fingertips and smudges on his wrists. But if there was one subject that he never tired of drawing, it was Jimin.

The first time Taehyung saw Jimin, it was in their school library.

Jimin sat by the window, a pair of white headphones perched over his blonde hair, as his delicate fingers lazily leafed through the pages of a worn-out storybook. The late afternoon sun cast a gentle halo around him, highlighting the golden sparkle in his brown eyes. Taehyung had only come searching for a quiet place to sketch, only to find himself frozen, captivated by the sweet man who reminded him of pink mochis and melted white chocolate.

He didn’t know what it was that made him stare—maybe it was the way Jimin occasionally tucked his hair behind his ear with slender, graceful fingers, or how his  pinky finger curled slightly as he turned each page. Or maybe it was the faint pout of concentration on his lips. Whatever it was, it made Taehyung reach for his sketchbook before he could stop himself.

And from that day on, Jimin became his muse.

Taehyung’s sketchbook filled with him—little pieces of the boy who had stolen his attention. He sketched with vivid imagination, the curve of Jimin’s knuckles when he rested his chin on his palm. The way he covered his mouth when he giggled, fingers barely hiding the playful crinkle of his eyes. The delicate roundness of his pinky, so small, so soft, which Taehyung found himself sketching over and over, emphasizing the tiny mole that sat at it's base, similar to what he has. There were pages dedicated to Jimin's eyes alone—soft, round and gentle in some, hooded, seductive and piercing in others. He had captured Jimin as he sat on a stool in their college library, one leg tucked under the other, the absent swing of his ankle, as his fingers absentmindedly tapped on his book while he read.

Taehyung never imagined Jimin would become his. But he did. So when they became boyfriends, Taehyung's sketches became detailed.

They were no longer just fragmented pieces of Jimin—the elegant arch of his neck, the soft dip of his collarbone, the curve of his shoulder. His strokes became bolder, the details sharper and more alluring. The pages were no longer filled with simple expressions but with entire moments. There were sketches of Jimin lying naked beneath him, a silk sheet lazily sprawled over his lower half. Taehyung had drawn the perfect dip of Jimin's sculpted waist, stroking the groove of his belly button with utmost care, the faint shadow of his Venus dimples. He shaded in the soft arch of Jimin’s spine as he writhed beneath him, and the delicate pink hue of his feet, toes curled slightly in pleasure.

One particular sketch captured the base of Jimin's nape, where a lone mole rested—a spot Taehyung loved to kiss. Another showed the peak of Jimin's nipple, swollen and raw from Taehyung's playful bites. The faint outline of his teeth marks pressed into the delicate skin made a show in the pages that came after. His inner thighs, plush and inviting, were captured with charcoal smudges to mimic the warmth Taehyung remembered.

Jimin found the sketchbook one afternoon when he was tidying their bedroom. He hadn’t been snooping, but curiosity got the best of him when he noticed Taehyung’s sketchbook left open on the desk. Jimin’s fingers skimmed over the pages, his cheeks flushing pink as he took in the details—his body, his expressions, the intimacy captured so intimately. The private moments they had shared, the whispered sighs and breathless moans, were all there in ink, revealing moments Taehyung had preserved in secret.

When Taehyung returned home later, he found Jimin sitting cross-legged on their bed, the sketchbook open on his lap. Jimin's face was unreadable, his fingers resting on a particularly steamy sketch—the one where Taehyung's hand gripped his waist. Next to it was that of Jimin lying under Taehyung, his lips parted in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded. Taehyung's ear tips grew hot when he got reminded of the night and the things that happened between them.

“You draw these from memory?” Jimin asked, voice soft, gaze flickering up to meet Taehyung’s. Taehyung hesitated, unsure if he had crossed a line, but then Jimin smiled.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispered, a soft smile on his supple lips reminding Taehyung how lucky he was to have Jimin as his boyfriend and soulmate.

“You never draw yourself,” Jimin whispered, glancing up through his lashes, the golden sparkle Taehyung was used to seeing, wide with curiosity. Taehyung blinked, tilting his head because he was caught off guard by the question.

“What?”

Jimin smiled softly and turned to a blank page, holding out the sketchbook, handing him a pencil.

“Draw us,” he said, his voice quiet but sure, a lovely smile playing out on his lips.

“I do,” Taehyung blinked and this has Jimin shook his head, scooting closer so that their knees were brushing.

“Not just me. Us together.”

Taehyung swallowed, something warm curling in his chest. He reached out, cupping Jimin’s face, and ran his thumb over the curve of his cheek.

“You want me to sketch us?”

"I want to see us in your art the way you see me,"Jimin nodded, a playful glint in his eyes.

Taehyung stared at him for a moment, and then without a word, he took the pencil from Jimin's hand and knelt in front of him.

From that day on, Taehyung's sketches were no longer of Jimin alone.

His pages became filled with them—fingers interlaced, their hands linked together in lazy affection. There were sketches of their lips barely touching, their breaths merging. Another of Jimin arching his neck, Taehyung's mouth pressed against the sensitive skin below his ear, dark bruises painted there.

There was a detailed portrait of Taehyung’s large hand splayed over Jimin’s waist, the red string bracelet around his wrist visible—a symbol of their bond. In another, Taehyung traced the dip of Jimin’s spine with his fingers, the faint rise of goosebumps on Jimin's pale skin captured perfectly.

One of Taehyung’s favorites was of them reflected in the bedroom mirror. Jimin’s bare back pressed against Taehyung’s chest, their bodies tangled together. The subtle curves of their forms melted into one, with Taehyung’s face nuzzled into Jimin’s neck, his eyes closed in bliss.

Each sketch became a proof of their love—raw, real, and infinite.

And sometimes, when they were wrapped in each other’s arms after making love, Taehyung would reach for his sketchbook and draw Jimin as he was at that moment—beautiful, loved, and entirely his.

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A random thought 😔😔