I know I know I know
Was it wrong? Well it felt wrong. His eyes moved from his best friend's sadden expression, the taste of bitterness dancing on the tip of his tongue.
This felt wrong.
Why was he telling Jimin what he can and can't do? For the sake of the band? He ran his hand through hair, sighing. The living room felt awfully awkward, thin air tampering his steady breathing.
They have all done something that was controversial—they were humans. Humans with emotions they can't control. Humans with curiousity and sweet desire evoking thier interest, tugging at their hands and feet compelling them to explore. So, Taehyung asked himself once again, eyelashes leisurelily fluanting at whatever was on the tv screen; why was he telling Jimin what to do with his body, with his life?
"Just be careful Jimin. "
-
It wasn't long before the man dwelling in both Taehyung's and Jimin's mind was standing before them, tightly hugging a folded grey blanket. His eyes darkened at the sight of Jimin's expression instantly brightening up.
Even after contemplating whether he should end this intimate relationship with Jungkook or not, Jimin still couldn't help but feel excitement coursing through every part of his sore body when he laid eyes on the younger. Every emotion he felt prior to Jungkook's presence—despair fleeted. The tingles curling his skin, heart rate increasing was enough evidence, there was no more perhaps. No more maybe. No more what if. The tension weighing down his shoulders completely disappeared and there was only one valid reason as to why.
It was Jungkook.
Jimin was sure of it.
He definitely fell for Jungkook—again.
"Hey." Jungkook greeted sitting in the vacant space next to Jimin making the elder slightly flinch. It was a natural reaction yet it concerned him. The way his hyung's small body jerked away when their shoulders touched—head falling, consumed in shyness.
"Does it still hurt?" Jimin felt the heat of Jungkook's breath inching closer and closer to his body. Maybe because the sensations nipping his skin during sex still lingered like reminiscent savory, or the fact that he had just acknowledged his feelings for the younger; made even the slightest touch of the shoulders seem intimate—it thrilled him. Heat quickly rose to his cheeks, teeth tugging his bottom lip.
Did it still hurt?
No. This pain stabbing, pulsating his back was not agonizing—he no longer thought so. Ever since he laid eyes on Jungkook when the man entered the living room, the pain turned pleasurable...delicious almost. Every ache striking his back reminded Jimin of who he belonged to and what the man was capable of doing. He was Jungkook's precious porcelain doll he could play with when he pleased and break so easily when he wanted.
Jimin was well aware he was wrapped around Jungkook's finger like a fool drunk in adulatory yearn—itching for his touch and attention. Yet, the real concern he eagerly tried to avoid made the pits of his stomach uncomfortably shift;
was Jungkook wrapped around his finger too?
Did Jungkook even feel the same or was he just a body to fuck? Was he still his enemy? How did he feel? Did he still feel the same way he did 5 years ago?
