Mugen slides his tongue along Jin's neck – salty and sweet, deranged candy. Strands of his hair are caught in his saliva, sticking to skin like glue. Like added texture. The strands roll underneath his tongue, releasing a small gasp from a mouth so close and yet so far away. Mugen leans forward and kisses that hole in his face, the one guarded by white traps of teeth ready to spring down on any second.
They fall into a scene in a movie.
Stick together, like hair and skin.
Fade to black.
You keep me wasting time, just waiting for this..
There lays a mysterious figure standing atop of a hill. His body is enveloped in blue cellophane, and you just can't touch him. And maybe he needs this, this isolation, and abandonment. And maybe he does this on purpose, and maybe he just can't feel anymore. The wind blows, and finally the leaves rain down on the ground, trees are screaming in their silent pain. He dissolves into thin air, and his silence neither confirms nor denies his presence.
And you don't know anymore
What he really wants.
What he really needs.
What this silence means.
I keep my back to the world, I just want to believe in you.
Jin never tells Mugen he needs him. Jin never tells Mugen he wants him. But somehow Mugen knows. And somehow Jin needs that more than anything. Jin wants someone who understands his silence. Jin needs someone who understands the meaning of silence.
Maybe it's because Jin just can't talk to anyone anymore.
But maybe words just aren't necessary anymore.
Or anything at all.
There lays a mysterious figure sitting atop of a hill. His body coated in blue ink, reflecting shades of the sky on the texture of his skin. And maybe someone else appears, his hair as big as the world and as easily contained. And maybe he does this on purpose, and maybe he sits next to the other man. The wind blows, and the leaves scatter further amongst them selves; trees are silent in their agony. And maybe these two men stay in silence forever. Occasional statements and responses.
End.
