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persian pink lips told tales of fuzzy hotel lights and moonbeam evenings with his skull inebriated with keroaucs words, tipsy with the tales of the alcoholics endeavors. day turned to night, but the island did not sleep, its sniveled and snuffled and didnt bother tip toeing into the morning.
yoongis tale was not linear, his phrases came out in a flurry of jump cuts. jimin discovered the thin folds of yoongis lips were skilled in the art of time traveling; one moment the man would be spending hours on his feet barely making minimum wage dreaming about san francisco, the next hed be behind the high school drinking whiskey with his head in his hands thinking of all the possible ways to kill himself. red shot through jimins wrists, blood doing cartwheels at such dark thoughts. yoongi would later mutter an apology as he drifted between the two realities, his eyes taking on a wistful glow.
his vertebrae curved to fit the mold of the wooden chair, outfit on display, newsboy cap disappearing into the floor, the isles briny glands grabbing a hold of it, painting it much darker than before. a tangerine glow played in the sphere of the mans irises; his eyes looking more like marbles beneath the nights orange blush.
he had a way of humming between sentences, a soft purr that coiled in jimins chest making him feel just as hot as the glass encased wax pieces still burning in the window.
'on my last night in the mundane world,' hum. 'i met a boy,' hum. silence. jimins eyes shot open against the cool of the tables surface. blood flow sloshing in his earlobes, as if the sea had finally made its way inside of him. the topic of love made jimin both addict and not, usually in his own company; he found avoiding the subject easy as embarrassment tainted him in the ribcage, feeling much too warm and much too mushy. but, in yoongis presence a hunger overtook him .
'how convenient,' he said, lips curling in the faintest of smiles. 'my last night in the mundane world and i had found a reason to stay,' his laugh was bitter and gruff, the rough sounds hurt jimins noggin.
jimins hands grew twisty beneath the wooden fibers, pulling himself and wanting to disappear into the tables cool. inside, he still burned with summer, perhaps his body had stolen all of the beachs heat.
jimin was a forest fire of embarrassment and envy and lust. yoongi had what jimin wanted right between his skeletal fingers. jimin thought of snapping them backwards, but also of slipping his stubby ones between them.
he snuck a peak at the man to find him looking right at him, he ducked his obsidian locks back down, head making a thump against the cool surface. yoongi admired the way his duck feather hair fanned over the table, looking impossibly soft against the tainted wood. his heart jumping a bit as he told of a night making love in a dingy hotel room, neon light inviting itself to rest on the boys bare shoulders; making the other male appear to be a neon god.
jimin began to feel as if his eyes were collecting the weight of yoongis stories, his eyes no longer able to peer up at the other man in secret. he fell into the abyss of yoongis travels. his eyelids finally filled to the brim. yoongi smiled a bit at the saccharine hymm of jimins breaths. he reached over carefully stroking the boys silky mop. the boy looking delicate in the nights autumn glow.
