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Imagine running your fingertips lightly down Yoongi’s skin. It’s soft and silky texture inviting you in. You both want to play. You’ve prepared for this. Weeks of using cream and exfoliating your hands to remove any barrier between Yoongi’s skin and what you feel when you connect. His smooth canvas. You've been together for awhile now and you've held hands, had a peck or two but nothing more. You both feel like it's a right time to sink in a little deeper, try things with each other. Experiment. He wants you to explore together.Moving upward, taking your time massaging every bit. Closing your eyes to absorb the contact where his mortality meets yours; it feels like a fresh breeze, like a quiet moment in time with no one but you two around.You open your eyes to see the man quietly displayed in front of you, a still life. His patience is comforting. It’s important to perceive every feeling, to remember every touch. Everything feels smooth and pure. Unblemished. You reach his arms, then his elbows; they’re rough, slightly calloused. His fingers too. Your extreme sensitivity gutted with every harsh bump, like the feeling of being off-terrain.You stop caressing, move your hands away, take a step back. He’s lost in the moment, doesn’t notice or maybe he’s not saying anything to give you time. The sudden roughness contrasting with the smooth journey just moments before… You can’t focus on anything else. Is Yoongi now speaking? It sounds like an echo. You’re not sure and it doesn’t matter. You take his hand in yours and move it to your face, wanting him to rub his rutted fingertips all over your soft face, craving to feel every indent, every wrinkle. He inserts a finger into your mouth, slowly, taking his time with you, allowing you to take it all in. He knows what you need and wants you to have it. You’ll both take your time tonight, teaching each other to reciprocate.