Jikook ao3

i'm filthy and i love it

By: prettied
Summary:
Oh my god, Jungkook thinks. Horror is a dark, bottomless pit and it's swallowing him up right now as he realises what exactly he's done. Did he just...

There's a sharp inhale of breath. He's afraid to open his eyes.

"Kook-ah," Jimin says, voice shaky.

Jungkook braces himself and slowly opens his eyes to see Jimin staring down at him, mouth popped open. "Yeah?"

"Did you just... pee inside me?"
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A cup of coffee from this morning.

A soda with lunch.

One medium-sized cup of bubble tea.

Those are the fluids Jungkook's drank today. Unfortunately, it's also been the kind of day that's lazy but fast-paced; in that Jungkook hasn't moved from his desktop setup in what feels like just an hour, when in reality it's been three hours and it's already four in the afternoon.

And he really hasn't moved, not even to go to the bathroom. After all, even the call of nature fades into background noise when he needs to win this competitive game so he can finally get Grandmaster on Overwatch and rub it in Taehyung's stupid face.

Basically, he kind of needs to pee, and he will. Just. Not now. He really needs to finish this first. He'll go later, no problem, he tells himself. So he lets himself sink completely into the game.

He doesn't notice when Jimin gets home, paying no mind to the sound of the electronic lock beeping and the gate clanging shut. He doesn't register when Jimin enters the bathroom, much less so when he steps out of the shower and pads over to him, wet hair leaving tiny water droplets on the floor as he moves. He doesn't realise when Jimin just stands there behind him, watching over his shoulder as the younger cusses a player out. Jungkook's just way too absorbed in the game.

The second the word 'VICTORY' flashes across the screen in bold gold, his headset is plucked off and he's yanked right off his gaming chair and pushed onto the bed before he can even blink. Jimin can be scarily strong when he's needy enough, Jungkook finds, and it's all a blur till he's on the bed.

Gazing up at him, Jungkook sits up, propping himself against the headboard, and offers his boyfriend a lopsided smile. "What, no 'hi babe, how was your day'?"

Jimin stares at him, arms akimbo and hip cocked to the side. A white towel is wrapped loosely around his hips, high enough to be decent and low enough for his Adonis belt to peek over the cloth.

"One day, an axe-murderer is going to break into the house and your last words will be 'get the fuck off Widowmaker'."

Jungkook pouts. "Hey, that's not - mmfh," He gets cut off when Jimin captures his lips in a kiss, and this is something that Jungkook already knew, but wow, Jimin is a good kisser. If kissing was an art, Jimin's Van Gogh. He's Monet. He's Da Vinci. He's some other great artist that Jungkook really can't be bothered to recall right now, not when Park Jimin's lips are on his.

"Wanted you," Jimin groans out into the kiss, "all day." He pulls away for a second, eyes soft and fond as he cups Jungkook's face in his (tiny!) hands. Jungkook takes the chance to catch his breath. "Couldn't stop thinking about you, Jungkook-ah."

Jungkook grins and is about to reply with something sappy when Jimin reconnects their lips, and his words vanish from his mind. Jimin gets everything all hot and heavy again, working them back up to the frenzied touches and hushed moans from before he'd stopped. It feels like everything's on two times speed. He can barely keep up right now.

Jungkook's insides turn to dough at Jimin's touch. Beguiling, is what Jimin is. Completely and utterly beguiling. He doesn't even register when Jimin pulls down his basketball shorts to free his semi.