Work Text:
jinyoung smiled every time his breath tickled jaebum’s sensitive skin, the hairs on his arms and back rising in a slow chill, his body shuddering when the cold ink of the pen touched warm skin, jinyoung’s chuckle merging with jaebum’s shy moan.
the tip of the pen slid smoothly on jaebum’s skin.
jaebum was laying on the bed, tummy down, lazy posture, still sleepy from his short nap, being awake by jinyoung’s pen. eyes hazy, still foggy from sleep, jaebum didn’t move, letting jinyoung use him as a living notepad.
it was always like this; jaebum grew used to it. he felt special every time jinyoung got that specific shine in his eyes, the wrinkles in his eyes showing, oh so lovely, and jinyoung didn’t need to say nothing to let jaebum know – he found some unexpected inspiration.
he felt special every time Jinyoung wrote on him, like a particular book, an entire library with some faded words, but never a faded love; he was better writing words than speaking them. it was like that when jinyoung said the three words for the first time; he wrote them on jaebum’s forearm with permanent marker – and jaebum had it tattooed, now.
jaebum always had something on his skin that reminded him of jinyoung; a hickey, a teeth mark, poems, random words or rhymes. jaebum felt anxious and eager every single time jinyoung laid him down, always with so much care and adoration; jaebum never felt uneasy when jinyoung wrote on him, jinyoung wasn’t one to disappoint.
with a satisfied sigh, jinyoung kissed the small of jaebum’s back, a kiss in each dimple of his back, making jaebum giggle; this time it was only a poem, but it was more sentimental, emotional, romantic, borderline lyrical, passionate, and it made jinyoung a little insecure – it was too raw; more feelings and less fancy words.
“what is it this time?” jaebum’s melodic voice broke jinyoung’s reverie, looking at him over his shoulder.
“love”