Jikook smut

Sandstorm

Written by: blushslick

Summary:

Jungkook leans against the car again, this time his eyes are almost sparkling, amused. "You also did just try to kill me."

"I do have half the mind to strangle you most of the time. Especially now."

He only grins, showing all his teeth. "Wouldn't be the first time you've tired."

_______________________________

'You call me up at night

Imaginary lines

Are you gonna go back to sleep

I know you better'

The song swims around the room, dragging over Jimin as he splays himself onto the cush chair set by the vanity. He sings along in high pitch wonder as he settles his feet onto the top of the dresser, carelessly painted toes glittering in the light. The robe he wears hangs off his shoulders, still untied and displaying a majority of his naked body.

It's littered with bruises, bite marks, and scratches.

A necessary evil, if you will.

Just like the body that lays tied to the king sized bed just a few feet away from him.

Getting out a cigarette he lights it with the fire of one of the candles beside him on the vanity. It's sticker is peeled at the edges and displays Wildflower but smells like bad deodorant. It more than likely doesn't help that Myungsoo's body has stunk heavily of gasoline since the last minutes of his life, now protruding the room like a thick fog. Jimin had never cared for the alphas scent. He huffs out a breath, remembering the idea of how the candles were supposed to 'set the mood' and places the cigarette to his lips as he takes one long drag.

Fucking finally.

Jimin knows in a few minutes he'll need to get the fuck out of here. Not that he even really wants to stay. There isn't exactly a need to hide the body or any evidence, it'll be more than clear that he was the one that killed Lee Myungsoo when morning comes. But he's not exactly fond of the idea of getting caught for it either. He isn't stupid enough to push his luck.

However in the moment, dusted in traces of blood, and a bit of the fuckers spit, he figures he's deserved a little TLC.

It's nice to loose himself to the music for a moment, let his his brain daydream with the song. Let the smoke scratch at his lungs.

It's been five months that he's been sober.

Five months of fucking hell.

He is going to be a little sad, living in the lap of luxury (or luxury the best you can get in a fucking apocolyspe) for the past five months hasn't been so bad. Even as Myungsoo's 'pet'. He's been lavished in the type of lifestyle that felt a little like a fairytale. Pampered with a casino to stay in, nice clothes (with Myungsoo's long dead mate's jewels, (he's taking the earrings and the necklace back with him, thanks very much) and the finest meals he's had in the better half of two years.

There's an endless thought that runs through his head, the idea that he could've stayed like this. Maybe for years potentially. Playing in barely functioning casino's, hanging off of Myungsoo's arm in a true display of power. A man who rarely took anyone to his side holding him close like a precious new trophy, nicely polished and ready to be shown off.