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"Would you still kiss me if I had no lips?"
Yoongi looks up from his book, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. His head tilts to the side in curiosity and his eyes glaze over with confusion. He sets his book down on his lap and attempts to press himself closer to Jimin with so much determination that the couch creaks beneath them, though it’s more than impossible—the only thing standing between Yoongi’s and Jimin’s shoulders is the thin material of their clothes.
“What do you mean?”
Jimin, of course, expects this question, but he still can’t help but feel the slightest bit of frustration. He looks down at his own lap, where his activity for the evening rests. The random half-viewed video he was watching on YouTube fades to black as the tablet turns itself off from lack of use. Jimin moves the device to the coffee table and wonders if humans suffer the same fate.
“Would—” And Jimin hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. Because–because he knows Yoongi loves him, he knows that, with all his heart, but—
“Would you still look at me if I couldn’t be seen?” Jimin resists the urge to wring his hands together. “Would you still hold me if I had no form to hold?”
Yoongi stares at him for a long moment, not seeming to notice or care that his book has slipped off his lap and fallen to the floor with a dull thud. Then, he cracks a smile.
“I have half a mind to ask you if you’ve been spending too much time listening to Namjoon talk about philosophy.” Jimin bristles at this, about to go on a long rant about how he’s an artist and it’s only natural for him to think deeply about life and love, but Yoongi continues before he can voice his complaint. “I love you for you. Just you.” Yoongi turns to face him, and Jimin finds himself mirroring the pose. Yoongi takes Jimin’s hands in his and squeezes them. His smile shifts from amusement to endearment and Jimin sees the transition as clearly as he did the day he first realized Yoongi loved him. Jimin loves all of Yoongi’s smiles, but this is possibly his favorite, because he sees it everyday. He may not always say it out loud, but Yoongi has been showing him how much he loves holding Jimin’s hands every single day for the last decade. Jimin has asked Yoongi about his fascination for his hands before, and the other had simply said that it wasn’t Jimin’s hands per se that delighted him so much—it was the way his hands almost disappeared within Yoongi’s, how safe they looked nestled so lovingly in his own.
“I love you in every way that I possibly can. So...” Yoongi trails off, pulling Jimin by the hands until he has no choice but to rest his head on Yoongi’s shoulder, his upper body being encased in a hug and his legs intertwining with the other man’s. He returns the hug without question. “...I hold you close, as tight as I’m allowed.”
“You’re allowed to hug me even closer,” Jimin mumbles into the fabric of Yoongi’s sweater. He doesn’t think Yoongi will understand him, but he feels more than hears Yoongi’s chuckle. He should have known better. When has Yoongi ever failed to understand him?
Yoongi moves his head back, just enough that he can see Jimin’s face clearly. “And I look at you as much as I’m allowed, too.”
“You’re always allowed, Yoongi-hyung.” Jimin says, as if on reflex. Yoongi brings his hands up to cradle Jimin’s face gently, smirking as he replies. “And what a beautiful sight you are. I’m so lucky.” Jimin’s cheeks color immediately and he giggles, halfheartedly trying to pull away from Yoongi in embarrassment, but Yoongi knows better and refuses to let him go.
“And I’m always dying to kiss your irresistible lips,” Yoongi says, pressing a quick peck to said lips. Jimin blinks in surprise, but his lips stretch into a pleased smile. Yoongi presses his thumbs to his dimples and it makes Jimin smile even wider.
“I love you in all the ways that I am able, Jimin. And if one way is no longer possible, I will find two more ways to grow in its place.”
Jimin traces nonsensical patterns onto Yoongi’s lower back, slow and affectionate. He’s more than satisfied with Yoongi’s answer, and he knows Yoongi can see it in the creases at the corners of his eyes and the lift of his rosy, plump cheeks.
“A set of two growing out of the root of one, huh?” Jimin says. “Like the Hydra from Greek mythology?”
Yoongi sighs. “You really have been spending too much time hanging out with Namjoon.”
Jimin laughs loudly. “Hey! Stop saying that, Namjoon-hyung is our friend and you’ve known him your whole life.”
“That’s exactly how I know you’ve been spending too much time with him. Anyone who spends at least four hours with that man comes out the other side speaking like Plato.”
“I’m telling him you said that.”
“Go right ahead, Jimin-ah.”
“I’ll tell Jin-hyung, too.”
Yoongi snorts. “You say that like Jin-hyung doesn’t say the same thing to Namjoon’s face everyday.”
Jimin giggles. “Stop slandering Namjoon-hyung.”
“I will if you promise to massage my shoulders before bed.”
“Only if you cook breakfast for us in the morning.” Jimin throws back, pouting slightly.
“Deal.” Yoongi says, before adding a nonchalant, “if you read me a chapter or two of my book, until I fall asleep.”
Jimin sighs, pretending to be annoyed, but his heart is singing and he knows Yoongi can hear it. This is what he lives for, what he and Yoongi both live for. Their steady, strong but tranquil love full of banter and bickering and the reassurance that they will always come home to someone who is willing to listen and try to understand them.
Jimin could not ask for anything more in this life and the next combined.
“I’ll read to you,” Jimin says. He bats his eyelashes at Yoongi purposefully. “If you come and organize Namjoon-hyung’s books with me next weekend. I promised him we’d help out.”
Yoongi groans.
Jimin smiles widely as Yoongi mutters his agreement.
Jimin could not ask for more, but sometimes he will. Their love is full of bickering, after all.