Love At First Sight My Ass | Jikook Smut ✓

Chapter 12: An Apology Led to a Second Chance

"Hyung! Calm down!" Jungkook avoided the cushion by ducking down his head and the cushion landed on the floor behind the male.

"Jungkook, I'm going to ask you something serious," Jimin stated. His eyes let small tears cloud his vision as he breathed in and out. The actor nodded and waited for the question with a vague idea of what was going to be asked. And he already had the same answer he had given previously. "What are we?" Jimin finally asked what was going on between them.

The chemistry and pull of gravity between them seemed to heighten in force after he asked because Jungkook immediately got up from the couch to approach the crying male across from him.

"I told you already Jimin-ssi. I fell for you at first sight." Jungkook's hands rose to clean the tears slipping down the writer's cheeks, but before he could touch him, his head was forced to the right.

"You keep repeating the same sentence over and over again, yet you can't prove it. I told you, you don't know me, Jungkook. And you even..." Jimin glanced down as his right hand collided with the actor's cheek. A loud slap sound resonated through the room and Jimin's mouth emitted a sob. There was a stinging sensation in Jungkook's left cheek that bothered him slightly. Was his cheek just slapped?

"You're a fucking liar. Get out of my home, Jungkook. Don't come back here or I will call security." The writer's eyes glanced down as he slowly stepped back. He refused to make eye contact.

"Park Jimin, What the hell?" Jungkook was about to take one step forward but the older beat him to it. It was like a switch had just flipped between Jimin when the actor spoke. He was already lowering the raven-haired actor's scarf to take a glance at the fading red-purple hickey on the younger's neck.

"Where did this hickey come from then?! Liar!" Fisting the same red scarf around his fingers, the writer gritted his teeth as he held back from shouting further at the male.

"Oh, Jimin..." Jungkook sighed and quickly held onto the writer's body before the older could escape. His lips brushed past the writer's left earlobe and he whispered with seduction, "You gave it to me one week ago but it still hasn't faded. Remember when you bit me hard trying not to moan?" His travelled above the writer's waist and continued to go south. "I bet you still have my hickey down here." His right hand was about to touch Jimin's inner thigh but the voice of the writer stopped him.

"It faded. This can't be mine! I don't remember biting you here." The writer's anger had slowly disappeared, he was starting to believe the actor but there were still doubts. A hickey wouldn't last that long, would it?

"But you did. You really don't remember?" Once again, the raven-haired actor's tone implied his desire in having the writer.

"No..." The writer shook his head, and sighed. "I'm sorry." Jimin now broke down, he had been mad for nothing; excluding the excuse of the phone calls.

"My favorite color is black. I'm an actor; Seokjin hyung was my coaching actor a few years back; my favorite number is four and eight; and I'm terribly addicted to the man named Park Jimin," Jungkook confessed as he attempted to calm the writer down. In order to please the older, he began telling small things about himself; never implying sex until he knew the older would completely be under his spell.

"My favorite color is yellow because it's supposed to be a bright happy color. I'm a writer, my works are well received by their audiences and my favorite number is eight because it's symmetrical. I learned that last one from a manga called Soul Eater back when I was ten or eleven. No, but really. My favorite number is thirteen," Jimin chuckled slowly, breathing pattern back to normal and lips adding jesters to lift the mood he created.