Pathways

Genesis

Everything around him was a slowly pulsing energy and a scent so prominent that it blended evenly within surfaces. Existence was nullified and enhanced by a percentage ambiguous. He had used Tae's shampoo, his towels, his robe, his sheets. Tae's hands had been on him as he sat between his legs the previous night, with his back to his lover's chest, letting him drag fingers all over him. He had been too tired to do anything else but surrender under the ecstasy of being cared for, cradled. He could now associate tranquility and pleasure with a scent. His body must have smelled differently as well. If he was to go to his mother in Busan would she be able to sense the change in him? Would she be able to smell Taehyung on him? Would she know that the one who conquered her son was a handsome man with fears and desires enough for all of humankind?

Jungkook was no better, addicted to a strange type of insanity where images were never still and sounds could be touched. The foolishness and unclarity of his thoughts made him smile to himself. As usual, he was never able to share what he envisioned. True loneliness came in the inability to speak about oneself. He envied those that could boast and lament since they painted the picture of who they were to a degree, whereas Jungkook's tongue was tied. He never thought about liberating it until he met Taehyung and was faced with the need to taste him.

He shook his head as he opened his eyes to the light from the far left window which shone on the white sheets accentuating the emptiness. Shadows and highlights on the wrinkles of the covers proved that there had once been a body next to his. Sprawled on the bed, on his stomach, he extended his hand over the absence. It purred warmly.

The room was hot as a summer's day although the city was swimming in the fog of a delayed winter, proving that, in enclosed spaces, seasons were completely artificial, fabricated to suit certain needs or desires. Between four walls or between the limits of a ribcage, the weather was determined by the songs that played in one's head. Jungkook's personal season was whatever Tae felt like humming.

He couldn't remember the last time when he woke up completely happy. Not excited but happy. He enjoyed the peculiar feeling traveling through his body drunkenly and closed his eyes again, drifting off into colorful worlds waiting to be explored with barren feet. Yet, the most beautiful of those universes was one that needed to be walked on tiptoes and then knees. He could hear that exact scenery of ever-expanding galaxies moving in the kitchen, then coming into the room with a confusing whiff of citrus on his tail.

When he opened his eyes again, almost prophetically, he saw Taehyung standing near the window, looking outside over the high windowsill, with a tangerine in his hands. The dark green curtain was framing the light and accentuating his body as he hid half of himself behind it, fully naked, but absentmindedly peeling the fruit, while his eyes settled on the world outside himself.

The slender curves were painting him in frailty together with a bright softness. Jungkook almost wanted to beat himself up for falling asleep way before him the previous night, unknowing that after his shower Taehyung had slid beside him naked, only as a lover would. He would have wanted to put his arms around him and praise him for his bravery, aware of how such a minor detail for others, was colossal in importance for Tae.

Suddenly, the body in front of him seemed even frailer, almost exhausted from his battles, fights of which Jungkook knew only patches of information that needed sowing together. If he would have been awake last night, would Taehyung have had the same courage, or were there instances when he needed to back off and let him take on the fray as he saw fit?

While his eyes moved over the exposed skin, Jungkook realized he didn't feel an ounce of shame viewing him. On the contrary, naturalness took over indecency quietly and all of Jungkook's feelings of love penetrated the pores of his bones, nurturing even the smallest blood vessels and marrow. The feeling stopped being ethereal, it was now affecting his internal structure, changing who he was so drastically that it reshaped his skeleton entirely as he loved. Loved more than he ever thought it could have been possible for his skittish heart.