//Author's Note//
First off, before you continue please be aware...if you weren't already (the book cover has an explicit content sign on it) that this book is, in fact smutty. If you are uncomfortable by 18+ content PLEASE do not ready this book.
⚠️ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED ⚠️
OH AND TRY LISTENING TO SOME SEXY MUSIC LIKE THE WEEKEND OR DRAKE OR IDK SOMETHING WHILE READING THIS. IT REALLY GETS YA IN DA MOOD.
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Jimin had fucked up, big time.
"What did you just say?" Jungkook overheard Jimin's supposed "thought" and was completely taken aback.
Did his hyung really want him to fuck him? Did Jimin possibly... like him?
The taller turned his full attention to the male in front of him.
Jimin wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was sure that Jungkook was going to kill him any second now.
The air thickened—an awkward silence was shared between the two enemies.
Jimin was unable to form any words. Frozen in place, the hyung lowered his head trying to avoid Jungkook's rather amused stare. He was surely going to get murdered that night.
Jungkook, himself didn't know how to react to Jimin's sexual comment. But one thing the maknae knew for sure was that Jimin was not going to get away freely, without an explanation.
He waited for a response from the brunette but to his dissatisfaction, Jimin remained silent.
His stare absorbed his hyung, noting every detail on his face to his small body. The short male never looked so..so sexy to Jungkook before. The way his oversized, plain white shirt was lazily falling down from his shoulder—exposing his flawless collarbone, had Jungkook salivating. The black haired man wanted nothing more than to terrorize the evenly toned skin. Jimin's imperceptive stance compelled Jungkook to bite his bottom lip.
The twenty-two year old's prurient eyes trailed down to Jimin's bare, silky-smooth legs. He was only wearing his black boxers, complimenting the long-thin shirt. The dark—stretchy fabric firmly hugged his semi-thick vanilla thighs and voluptuous round ass. They had been modestly hidden under the large shirt, as if they were a gift that Jungkook admittedly desired to unravel.
The maknae was not thinking straight anymore. His hormones were now in control of his mind and body. There was no going back.
Jungkook took a step forward edging closer to Jimin's petite frame—making the anxious boy's blood run cold.
Despite the fact that he had purposely averted his menacing stare from the male in front of him—to the floor, he still sensed Jungkook's glare. He felt like a diminutive bunny targeted by a carnivorous alpha wolf, waiting to be devoured.
Goodbye Army. Goodbye BTS. Goodbye eomma, appa, JiHyun. Goodbye world, you have been so good to me
Already saying his last words in his head, Jimin squeezed his eyes shut—anticipating the start of Jungkook's horrendous abuse.
Nothing could have prepared Jimin for what happened next.
Jungkook had cradled his cheeks—the warmth of his sizable hands spontaneously comforted Jimin.
In an instant, the overwrought male relaxed his facial features; his breath hitching. He slowly fluttered his eyes open, only to be met with the younger's neck; dampened from the sweat.
Jimin contemplated whether he should look up at Jungkook or just look straight ahead. It didn't matter, Jimin thought.
They were both arousing masterpieces hand-crafted by God; herself.
