Jikook smuts : top Jimin

trophy bunny

CREDIT + LINK:

@ ⸝⸝ serendiplini
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16013369

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Summary:
Jungkook is tired of attending Jimin's work events. Jimin decides to make things a little more interesting.

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Work Text:
Jungkook wasn’t really a fan of Jimin’s work dinners. He found them vapid and boring, didn’t like being touted around as Jimin’s arm candy in a sea of people who valued money over manners. It rarely bothered him because it was something he’d accepted when he’d become Jimin’s, when he’d agreed to enter his world, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

However, after one exceptionally long and grueling event, something in Jungkook snapped; he was tired of being treated as nothing more than Jimin’s trophy husband, and after giving Jimin the silent treatment on the entire trip home and up the elevator to their penthouse apartment, he’d showered alone and then flopped onto their bed, waiting for Jimin to ask him what was wrong. Jimin simply watched him, a little concerned but also amused, as he often was when Jungkook got into one of his bratty moods.

Jimin had let him complain about the event, about the people, about the tacky crystal chandeliers and the undercooked fish, and then he’d crawled into bed next him and slipped his hands under Jungkook’s shirt to ghost shapes onto his ribs with his fingertips. He’d whispered apologies, promising he’d make it up to him. They both knew Jungkook would never refuse to attend—people would gossip if a man of Jimin’s stature suddenly started turning up without his fiance. But despite all of that, Jimin always made sure Jungkook could talk about anything that was upsetting him, no matter how big or small.

After his tirade, Jungkook had nuzzled into Jimin’s arms, hair brushing at his chin and his arms wrapped snug around his waist. After a few moments of enjoying each other’s warmth, Jimin spoke up. He’d quietly suggested that maybe for the next event they should play a little game. Something to make it more interesting. The words were innocuous, but Jungkook knew Jimin—he could practically hear the smirk dripping from his words, his tone dropped just an octave or two. Jungkook pulled his head loose from the crook of Jimin’s neck and squinted at him through the darkness, recognizing the telltale mischievous fire dancing behind his eyes.

“What do you say, princess?” Jimin had said, twisting at the tendrils of cherry red hair spilling over Jungkook’s eyes around his ring finger. “I’ll make sure you don’t get bored next time.”

Jungkook was sometimes afraid of Jimin. Not because he thought he would ever hurt him, or anything like that. No, Jungkook was afraid of Jimin because of the amount of power he held over him.

Jimin had been in the bathroom getting ready for nearly two hours, and the time left before they had to leave was drawing shorter and shorter, right alongside Jungkook’s patience. With each moment that passed he was becoming more disappointed, positive that Jimin had forgotten about their plans. He couldn’t blame him—Jimin had a lot on his plate at work, and this banquet was an important one. The tensions between the parties attending were high, and the event was their way of trying to play nice. Jimin was understandably stressed.

Jungkook had already showered before Jimin came home from work, knowing that his lover liked to take his time to make himself look pretty (as if he even needed it), and then he’d flopped onto their too-large bed, scrolling through various social media feeds on his phone to pass the time until Jimin was done.

After close to an hour, the bathroom door creaked open and rich-scented steam tumbled into their bedroom when Jimin finally emerged, already dressed. He looked like royalty, as he often did, his hair perfectly slicked from his forehead and a tailored, pressed black suit hugging the curve of his hips. Jungkook wasn’t modest about the way he hungrily dragged his eyes over the smooth dips of muscle in Jimin’s petite frame, lingering on the snug fabric around his ass, and when his eyes flit to Jimin’s face he caught the edge of a smirk on his lips as he fastened his watch around his wrist. A familiar look.