Chapter Text
Twenty minutes of walking using only the moon as illumination, with the gentle night breeze drying the cold sweat on his skin and calming his turbulent emotions, Jimin's heart is almost fully calmed down when the sudden realization of everything hits him, a hundred times more powerfully than when he was in his room.
So, okay, he kissed another alpha. It's not that weird, right? People do that all the time; it's not like they live in the same world as a hundred years ago. It's not that deep.
Jimin chuckles nervously, trying to assure himself. It's fine, it's not like he's in love or something. It's not like he did more than kissing. He's a full-grown adult; kissing is nothing.
He nods to the darkness ahead of him.
Except Jimin was raised in hell, and if his father ever found out he did something like this, especially with his favorite weapon, Jimin is going to be in trouble. He was raised to take, to dominate, to own, never to submit, never to give in, never to bend.
“It's not like I gave him anything” , Jimin thinks defensively, “much less that I submitted. That will never, ever happen. Never.”
It's not like the thought ever crossed Jimin's mind. He never even thought about kissing Jungkook before the night before; he never thought it was a possibility, much less that Jungkook wanted something like this. Fuck, Jimin didn't even know he himself wanted it until his tongue was deep down the other alpha's throat.
But he never thought about doing more.
Jimin's cheeks flush, shaking his head to dismiss this line of thought out of his head, almost falling face-first on the ground when he trips over a fallen branch. Before he can humiliate himself even more, though, someone pulls his body straight with a tight grip on his elbow. “Watch your step,” Jungkook says, sounding quite annoyed.
Jimin turns his head to the side to look at him, their eyes meeting in the close distance. Jungkook is still holding his arm, and it's so weird how every time he does that, heat seems to spread all over Jimin's body. Every time they are close, every time they touch.
It freaks Jimin out when he realizes it, and he pulls his arm out of Jungkook's hold with more strength than he thought, making the other alpha grit his teeth when his shoulder is yanked back with the force of Jimin's movement.
Jimin feels guilt rise inside his heart in the same moment. Jungkook steps back, clearly holding back the pain, but Jimin grabs his wrist to stop him. “How is your chest?” he asks, trying to see the wound in the mostly dark.
“It's fine,” Jungkook tries to pull his arm back, but Jimin just holds him tighter.
"I can hear a river not far from here," Jimin says, dragging Jungkook into the woods without waiting for an answer.
"We should not walk off the road," Jungkook disagrees, trying to stand his ground.
Jimin just pulls him harder, feeling slightly embarrassed with the amount of force he has to put into this simple task. "We need to clean your wound," he says, struggling.
"With dirty river water?" Jungkook snorts, amused.
"We can boil it," Jimin insists.
"Oh?" Jungkook coos. "And do you know how to make fire?"
"How hard can it be?"
Pretty fucking hard, actually.
Jimin wipes the sweat off his forehead, throwing the wet strands of hair back with his forearm. His naked chest glistens against the moonlight, his skin breaking with sweat after the repetitive effort to rub one stone against another to create at least a spark of fire. It has been useless until now.
Jungkook watches calmly from the rock where he is sitting by the river, his legs covered with those hideous colorful pants are parted while he rests his elbows on both knees. His expression looks bored and amused at the same time, his eyes locked almost lazily on Jimin's half-naked form.
The first thing Jimin did when he saw the water was take off the sticky shirt and lean down to wash the blood off his face and neck. He was so focused on taking away every trace of the dead off his body, he didn't even notice how Jungkook stopped behind him. Jimin didn't see his expression; he was too busy bending forward on his knees to submerge his whole head into the lake like a dog.
That's the reason now his hair is drenched with water, the droplets sliding from his neck to his naked chest, looking like liquid drops of diamonds as they capture the light of the moon.
Jimin doesn't notice any of those things, his thoughts fully occupied with not throwing the fucking rocks as far as he can and just giving up. He can't see Jungkook's face, but he definitely feels his gaze traveling all over his body. It's disconcerting, to say the least, because Jimin doesn't know what he is looking at.
Is it his purple nose and bruised cheek? Is it his red eyes still a little bit frantic? Is it the scars on his forearms that he only noticed were bare after lifting his hand to push his wet hair back?
Jimin knows he is attractive, knows he is beautiful, maybe even alluring. He knows his physical traits very well, knows he has the same sharp eyes as his father, the same dark hair color, almost fully black, the same smaller hands and thicker fingers. He knows, he is aware, and some parts of him do want Jungkook to look, to see the handsome parts of him, to acknowledge his attractiveness for as stupid as it may sound. But there are way more things he wants to hide than to show Jungkook.
He stops for a moment, his eyes drifting to the alpha who is a few steps away from him, and the moment their gazes meet, Jimin wonders, not for the first time, what he thinks about his scars. Does he see them as a demonstration of weakness as Jimin does? Does he pity him? Does he disdain him?
It's not even like Jimin can hide them because Jungkook has seen it all before. He has even touched them, so carefully, so firmly, as if he was not only pained but also determined to erase them completely.
Jimin lowers his gaze, jaw clenching as his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He shakes his head to push away the thoughts and focuses on trying for the tenth time to make a spark with the two stupid rocks.
“Try to flick your left wrist faster,” Jungkook says, and his commanding tone makes Jimin's hair stand on end. He suppresses the shiver that runs through his body and grits his teeth with anger.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs grumpily, his hands following Jungkook's words before he can think about it. To his surprise and annoyance, a spark does appear between the rocks, quickly fading when Jimin freezes in disbelief.
“See?” Jungkook replies with a sly smile, and Jimin only spares him a glare before going back to the fire. He rubs the rocks together again, the veins on his arms bulging with the effort to be faster and harder at the same time.
It works perfectly, and a couple of minutes later, he manages to make an improvised fire, putting a few smaller rocks around the burning wood to make sure the fire stays in place. After it is done, Jimin stands in front of it with his arms on his hips, admiring his work proudly as the heat warms his skin with a golden glow.
“I’m fucking awesome at this,” he brags with a genuine smile, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and eyes squinted together as he looks at Jungkook, who just chuckles and nods his head, something soft shining in his dark eyes.
“We don’t have a pot though,” Jimin says, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling inside his chest. “We can’t boil water.”
Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh so contagious it is impossible for Jimin not to follow him.
“Fuck, I did not think about that.”
“Me neither,” Jimin chuckles. “I even cut my finger trying to light that up.”
“Let me see,” Jungkook asks, and Jimin feels so light he doesn’t even process what he is doing. His feet automatically walk towards Jungkook, his hands raised, and his palms up for the alpha to see.
He stops right between Jungkook's legs, and the apha grabs Jimin's hands gently but firmly, turning the palms over to better see the small scratches on his skin, not even deep enough to bleed.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Jungkook says so low, it sounds almost like a whisper.
Jimin's breath gets stuck in his throat as Jungkook's warm fingers touch his cold ones, creating a chemical reaction that sends shivers down his spine and makes the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.
Jungkook's touch is light as if he is afraid that what is between his hands could slip through his fingers at any moment, but at the same time, it is so solid and determined it is impossible not to notice it. It's impossible not to swoon under it, impossible not to lean closer and seek more.
The world suddenly gets quieter around them. The night seems to hush and make space for their heartbeats to fill the atmosphere. It's like they are the only two beings in the entire forest, maybe in the whole world. There's only Jimin and Jungkook and nothing else, and when Jungkook's hands move from Jimin's palms to the inside of his arms and his fingers brush over the ugly scars Jimin tries so hard to hide, to forget, to erase, it somehow makes his knees buckle forward and his breath become ragged.
Jungkook raises his head, a little lower than Jimin for the first time, and their eyes meet in a collision of messy thoughts, forbidden desire, and old memories. They burn together, for each other, because of one another. The fire licks their skin, warms their bones, setting a permeating flame inside their souls, making Jimin feel more alive than ever before.
Jimin steps closer, his right hand reaching for the side of Jungkook's jaw, tilting his head back, pressing his thumb on the soft skin of the alpha's face, craving a little bit of control that Jungkook willingly gives to him, closing his eyes as Jimin leans forward, diminishing the distance between their bodies.
Their noses bump into each other, sending a painful electric wave down Jimin's face that only makes him gasp with an open mouth, his grip on Jungkook's jaw getting harder as foreign pleasure runs down his body.
Jungkook's nostrils flare when he smells the spike in Jimin's scent. He opens his eyes suddenly, so close Jimin can count every little sparkle of light that is reflected in them, burning with so much intensity it sets Jimin on fire.
He still holds Jimin's scarred wrist, his fingers deepening into the flesh as if he wants to mark himself into it and erase everything else. His other hand grabs the side of Jimin's waist, and there are no clothes between them, just skin against skin, and when he squeezes the muscles there between his fingers, Jimin has to bite his lip to suppress the moan.
Jungkook pulls him closer harshly, making their chests collide against each other, and Jimin is about to throw everything else to the wind and crash their mouths together when a sudden loud noise scares the shit out of him.
“What the fuck?” Jimin yelps, jumping back almost a foot into the air, his heart beating like crazy as he looks around for the source of the noise.
“It’s just an owl,” Jungkook mumbles, seeming a little out of himself too, his eyes still glazed and his cheeks flushed. He points to the tree on their right, and Jimin follows the direction to find the culprit silently watching them with big round eyes.
“Ah, right,” he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with embarrassment.
He looks at Jungkook out of the corner of his eyes, seeing the way the alpha sits there completely lost as if he just woke up from a dream and doesn’t know yet what is real and what is created by his brain.
Jimin’s hands shake so much he has to clench his fists together, his cheeks hot all the way down to his neck. “I’m going to get more wood,” he announces a little too loudly, his voice echoing awkwardly over the silent forest.
He clears his throat as he starts to walk. “You go ahead and clean your wounds, I’ll be right back.” He walks away without daring to look back, feeling Jungkook’s eyes burn holes into his back.
Jimin completely ignores the pile of fallen branches just a few meters away from them and inserts himself straight into the middle of the tall trees, cursing himself, Jungkook, the fucking Chan Pack, his bad luck, and even the stupid owl.
Later, they decide to spend the night there and resume walking in the morning, the weird silence between them making Jimin’s skin crawl. He puts the wet shirt back on and turns his back to Jungkook, trying his hardest to stay still until he hears the even breathing behind him.
It's pointless to say Jimin doesn't sleep at all.
It doesn't surprise him; after all, he doesn’t even remember the last time he slept without pills to knock him out. His body stays tense throughout the whole night, adrenaline rushing inside his veins, eyes wide facing the dark, his crazy mind ready to be dragged out by dark-masked men at any moment as it happened so many times in his childhood.
None of the sources of his anxiety happen, though, and not long after, the sun starts to rise shyly between the canopy of the tall trees, warming his skin that almost froze inside the wet shirt.
Jimin turns his body to the side, facing the extinguished fire and, not so far away, Jungkook, who is still sleeping. Jimin lays his head on his folded arm, copying Jungkook’s pose as he watches him from the distance.
He sees the way the sun shines over the dark wild locks, the way his nose scrunches up in annoyance as the light reaches his closed eyes, the way his thin lips are parted just slightly, the way his chest rises and falls peacefully.
Cute .
Jimin widens his eyes when the sudden thought crosses his mind and he shakes his head in denial. Jeon Jungkook is not cute! Nothing about him is cute at all. Jimin frowns as he looks at him again, seeing the way the open shirt reveals the outlines of his perfect body, the sculpted muscles, the broad chest, the scar over it.
Jimin shifts position, lying on his back and staring at the blue sky. He squints his eyes when the bright light suddenly hits him. He shouldn’t be checking another alpha out. That doesn’t sound right at all.
Jimin pushes everything to the back of his head where he keeps the things he doesn’t want to deal with, a very crowded place he refuses to acknowledge, and stands up to start the day.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t find his things in the cabin, so he doesn’t have nicotine to calm him down. He checks the time and the signal on the phone he stole. It’s a disposable one; there are no saved contacts, messages, or notes.
He kneels by the edge of the river to drink water and cool his face. Jimin always knew there was something inside the ring he got at the auction; it wouldn’t be there if it didn’t. He just never imagined it was something so important that a smaller pack would literally kidnap the son of the biggest pack in the country.
His stomach growls with hunger, and Jimin remembers the last proper meal he had was probably over four or five days ago. He doesn’t know how the fuck he will grow as big as Jungkook if he doesn’t eat at all. Jimin ignores the thought that maybe, just maybe , he is not jealous but actually something else.
He rolls his eyes with annoyance, missing the alcohol that shut those thoughts up, as he walks over to poke Jungkook with the tip of his shoes. “Wake up, princess. It’s time to go.”
They decide to walk by the river shore that seems to run all the way down the mountain. It’s still hard to see any sign of civilization. Jimin climbed a tree to see if he could spot anything, but there was only a very distant line of human buildings very far from where they are.
“It’s probably another two days of walking,” he tells Jungkook as he jumps down with agility. “One and a half if we are fast.”
“Is there still no signal yet?” Jungkook asks as they start to move again, and Jimin shakes his head tiredly. “I'm pretty sure there was a car outside,” Jungkook says. "You could see their tracks on the road yesterday."
“Isn’t it weird how they fled instead of helping their head alpha?” Jimin smirks over his shoulder, and Jungkook nods, agreeing.
“What if it wasn't Chan members?”
“Bingo,” Jimin chuckles without humor.
“This is starting to get out of hand,” Jungkook frowns, his scent melding perfectly with the forest around them. “They are getting bold.”
Jimin turns around to watch him, walking backwards. “What are you going to do, bodyguard? I don’t think you are going to be able to deal with them,” his lips stretch into a grimace. “I was the one who saved you back then.”
Jungkook’s frown deepens, his expression getting darker. “You should take this seriously, Park. They almost got you this time.”
Jimin sighs and turns forward again. “What do you want me to do? Be afraid?”
“No, I just—” Jungkook shakes his head with distress, and Jimin looks at him again.
“Are you worried?”
“Aren’t you?”
Jimin shrugs. They walk in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Jungkook tries hard to suppress the anger growing inside of him after Jimin’s lack of care for his own life. It’s not like Jungkook has never seen it before, the way he jumps into confrontation without thinking, the way he so quickly accepts the dangerous situations around him as if life or death do not matter to him.
It angers Jungkook endlessly. Not because he is an advocate for life or even because he thinks it's worth living the way they do; it's not like he would care about someone's choices in that department. Except if that someone is Park Jimin, then he cares so much he feels it like a hand squeezing his heart tight enough to break it into pieces.
He can't accept that. And he refuses to think much about the reason why.
Luckily, Jimin interrupts his thoughts. “Yoongi told me some new things,” he says, completely shifting Jungkook's focus.
“What?”
“He found out more information about the night of the attack,” Jimin tells him briefly what Yoongi discovered, and every new piece of information makes a shiver run down Jungkook's nape. He listens as the other talks, his voice even and calm as if the words don't make Jungkook burn with hatred.
“And in the end, it was my father who ordered his death, before he could speak more, I guess,” Jimin sneers.
“So, is Joon-ho behind all of this?” Jungkook manages to say through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, his eyes burning in red as the most powerful wave of anger makes his alpha growl inside his chest.
“Probably,” Jimin shrugs, avoiding a low branch, completely unaware that behind him Jungkook is about to go feral. “It just seems weird. The first attack does make sense, but how about the others ones? Wouldn’t he be too busy with the Kim pack to keep wasting time on me?” Jimin says almost as if he is thinking out loud.
Jungkook tries to even his raging breath, pushing his instincts down as Jimin turns to look at him after the lack of response. “Don’t you think?” he asks with a raised brow.
Jungkook breathes through his nose as he nods stiffly. “You can’t really understand the mind of a person like him.”
Jimin hums in agreement, running his hand through his dark, growing hair. “I guess you cannot.”
They walk in silence for about an hour or two, Jungkook trying to understand the reactions of his body, the way his alpha almost lost control over the thought of Jimin being hunted down by his own father.
Jungkook knows he is attracted to Park Jimin, knows he wants to kiss him breathless, fuck him senseless, knows he wants to scent and mark the other alpha until people a mile away can tell who he belongs to. Jungkook knows he is possessive, knows he is obsessive, but he also refuses to think deeper than that.
He wouldn’t even know what to think if he is honest with himself. There are things in life he doesn’t understand, things he was never taught. There are paths he knows he will never walk on, and he is fine with that. He prefers being pragmatic and realistic; there is no need to dive into a fantasy world just to imagine things that will never happen.
It's not in Jungkook's nature to dream. He just was never allowed to; he just never learned how to. Maybe he did know once, when he was very young and naive, too long ago for him to remember it now.
When they stop to drink water, Jungkook is still lost in thoughts, blankly staring at nothing in particular.
“What is it?” Jimin asks suddenly, and Jungkook looks down at him, seeing the sparkle of amusement in his cat eyes.
“What?”
“You are deep in thought,” Jimin says. “You shouldn’t think too much, Jungkook-ssi. Your brain is not used to it, and it might explode.” He makes a sound with his mouth as his hands imitate an explosion on the side of his head.
Jungkook stares at him, bored, his lips twisting up with annoyance. “Shut up,” he says, kneeling down to cup some of the crystal water from the lake.
“I’m serious,” Jimin continues, determined to get under his nerves. “Big dumb alphas just don’t have enough brain cells. I’m genuinely worried about you.”
Jungkook glances up at him. “Aren’t you an alpha too?”
Jimin shrugs. “Yes, but I’m a smart one.” He smiles with arrogance, and Jungkook hates how hot he looks with the bright sun warming his usually pale skin.
Jungkook clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, throwing a bunch of the fresh water over his heated face. “You’re so fucking annoying,” he murmurs between his hands before shaking them and standing up.
Jimin opens his mouth to reply, probably with another smart-ass remark that will make Jungkook internally growl to suppress the need to throw him into the ground. He can’t say anything though, because suddenly a loud noise comes from his stomach, and he widens his eyes as he holds the front of his belly.
Jungkook laughs before he can stop himself, watching as Jimin’s cheeks color in the most beautiful shade of pink and he frowns in embarrassment.
“Are you hungry, Jimin-ssi?” Jungkook asks kindly, his dirty smirk growing the more embarrassed Jimin gets.
“No,” he answers, gritting his teeth and raising his chin proudly, before another growl comes from his stomach as if disagreeing right away.
Jungkook can’t help it; he laughs. He laughs so hard, tears come into his eyes, laughs so hard his cheeks flush, and his breath gets stuck in his lungs. The sound echoes all over the forest, his chest hurting from the up and down movement, his eyes turning into crescent moons.
He just laughs. In a way he hasn’t laughed in over twenty years, genuinely and bright, making all the lines on his face deepen and unfreezing the expression he craved long ago to survive.
Jimin breaks the mask he has kept on for so long. Jimin lights his soul up. Jimin makes him feel alive again like he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. So when Jungkook’s laughter dies down slowly and he wipes the tears from the corner of his eyes, his expression is soft, tender, as he looks at the source of light in front of him, not the sun shining a million miles away, but Park Jimin standing there with his mouth open and wide eyes as if he just witnessed the most unbelievable thing the world.
Jungkook smiles at him. “Let’s find you something to eat, okay?” He grabs Jimin’s hand, who just looks down to where their fingers touch each other and nods without saying anything as Jungkook gently pulls him back into the woods.
It turns out that hunting is more difficult than it seems. Jungkook had read multiple books detailing how their species used to live in the wild, hunting to survive and living in small communities, how they once were able to shift into wolves and connect with nature as if they were one.
A few thousand years later, Jungkook crouches down behind a bush on the same land his ancestors once thrived, and he absolutely hates every single moment of it. The way the sun shines brightly overhead, making him sweat profusely, the way his hair sticks to his wet cheek and neck, the way he can actually feel a droplet of sweat form and slide down his spine as he focuses all his attention on the prey in front of him.
Jungkook steadies his arm, the grip on the gun he stole from the Chan pack, firmly, his aim directed straight at the target. He squints his eyes dangerously and is about to pull the trigger when Jimin's voice comes from his left.
“You know there’s absolutely no chance I will eat a squirrel, right?” his loud voice startles the animal, which quickly climbs back into the tree and disappears between the branches.
Jungkook lowers his hand and looks at him angrily. “Are you serious?! I almost got it!”
“Are you insane?” Jimin replies, rolling his eyes. “I won’t eat a squirrel, you idiot.”
“I’m sorry, your highness,” Jungkook frowns with false worry. “Do you prefer something fancier? A steak, perhaps? I’m sure we can find a cow around here.” His voice drips with sarcasm, and Jimin clenches his jaw with anger.
“Just let me do it,” Jungkook murmurs, returning his gaze back to the open space in front of them just when a wild rabbit appears from behind a tree. It's fully black with a few white spots around the nose and on the fluffy tail, its eyes big and round, the small front teeth protruding from the snout. It sniffs the air around it, the little nose moving up and down nervously before jumping forward.
Jungkook never ate rabbit meat, but he supposes there is a first time for everything. He raises his arm once again, aiming at the animal that doesn’t seem to notice it's seconds away from dying.
He is about to pull the trigger when Jimin stops him once again, grabbing his forearm tightly. “You can’t kill it,” he whispers urgently, and Jungkook loses it, patience evaporating quickly.
“Jimin, I swear to god—”
“Shut up,” he cuts in rudely. “I won’t let you.”
Jungkook frowns. “Why the hell not?”
Jimin hesitates for a moment, and Jungkook raises a brow, watching as his cheeks get redder. “No reason,” he says, faking disinterest, but it's too late; Jungkook already saw it.
He chuckles in disbelief. “What? Do you like rabbits or something?”
“No!” Jimin yelps, letting go of his arm as if it’s on fire, shocking Jungkook with the level of reaction. Jimin clears his throat and continues more calmly. “I don't like rabbits. The meat is not good.”
“Where would you ever have eaten rabbit meat?”
“I have eaten it before,” Jimin crosses his arms defensively. “You don't know about my life.”
“Where?” Jungkook insists.
“None of your business,” Jimin replies childishly, and Jungkook growls annoyed.
“Fine, then,” he says, turning ahead to where the dumb bunny is still eating a piece of fallen leaf even after all the noise they just made. “I'm going to kill it,” he raises his arm again.
“I already said no,” Jimin growls angrily, grabbing his forearm.
Jungkook growls back, pushing him away. “You're not my fucking boss.”
“I literally am,” he says convinced, making Jungkook chuckle without humor.
“In your dreams, maybe.”
“Shut up,” Jimin says, reaching forward. “Give me the gun.”
“Fuck no,” Jungkook pulls his arm out of his reach, making Jimin lean over him once again.
“Give it to me!” he orders, jumping on Jungkook, who is caught off guard and loses balance. He barely has time to grab Jimin's waist before they both are falling backward.
They roll down the small incline, limbs entangled together, hitting small rocks and getting covered with dirt. By the time they finally manage to stop, it's Jungkook who ends up on his back with Jimin comfortably lying on his chest.
“I fucking hate you,” Jungkook murmurs with his eyes closed as wave after wave of pain travels up and down his body.
“Well, it was your fault,” Jimin stands up casually, scratching his nape as he looks down at Jungkook. “Are you okay?”
Jungkook scoffs, opening his eyes just slightly. “What do you think?”
Jimin's eyes travel up and down his body, probably looking for wounds. When he finds none, he just shrugs and walks towards the fallen gun, leaning his body forward to grab it with steady hands. “It serves you just right. Next time, you obey me.”
“I'm going to kill you.”
“After lunch, maybe,” Jimin smiles, offering his hand.
Jungkook grabs it, pulling all his weight on it on purpose just to see Jimin stumble down and almost fall forward. He chuckles, feeling much better, and gets up too. “Let's just eat fish,” he says with a sigh, walking back to their original path, feeling Jimin's eyes throwing daggers at his back.
After many failed attempts and humiliating scenes, they do manage to catch a few small fish from the lake they have been drinking from. The process to clean and cook them is another pain in the ass, and by the time they do manage to eat the light meat that tastes like nothing, Jimin and Jungkook have almost killed each other at least a dozen times.
They fight over absolutely every fucking thing. From the way Jungkook tries to fish with his bare hands—way too brute, way too harshly, way too clumsily, as Jimin will say all the time—until he storms out of the lake and lunges in his direction.
Jimin laughs and jumps into the river to avoid him. “Watch me,” he says cockily, and Jungkook actually sees red as Jimin manages to catch five of those slippery things. Of course, Jimin brags about it the entire time, his chin raised high, his purple nose so high it could reach the skies, and Jungkook can't do anything but grumble, trying to ignore the other alpha as he cleans the fishes with hate.
And then the whole cooking process when they couldn't agree on the way to do it. Jungkook wanted to hang the meat over a stick and let the fire cook it, while Jimin, on the other hand, insisted that the better way to do it was putting it on top of a rock and letting the heat soften the meat.
They argue and argue until both agree to decide over rock, paper, scissors, which Jungkook won with a cocky grin. But later, after setting everything up and watching the soft meat almost melt away into the fire, feeling Jimin's gaze on him the whole time, Jungkook wished more than anything that he had lost.
They ate in angry silence, as far from each other as the space would allow, throwing dirty glares whenever the other wasn't looking.
Out of the five fish, Jungkook ate two and left three for Jimin. Of course, he did it without the other noticing because there was no way in hell Jimin would accept it if he knew. Jungkook was angry at him, but he still felt satisfaction running through him as his alpha purred at the sight of Jimin eating more.
Even though Jungkook wasn't the one who provided for him. Jimin got the food himself, with his naked chest covered with water and golden from the warm sun. Even the arrogant grin on his face when he annoyed Jungkook was absolutely breathtaking.
That alpha is fucking beautiful, Jungkook had no trouble admitting, but shit, isn’t he a pain in the ass.
After the small meal, they go back to walking, this time in a heavy silence filled with mutual irritation. Jimin walks forward, his shirt tied over the side of his belt because of the heat, his torso naked and glistening with sweat, and Jungkook doesn't realize the extent of how fuck up he is until it's too late.
He's too busy ruminating on his poor fishing skills, replaying everything he did wrong over and over again in his head and fighting the urge to get back into the water just to prove he can do it.
But then he sighs tiredly, deciding to let it go for a while and lifting his eyes to the front and he is so caught up by the vision he almost trips over a rock and falls flat on his face because right in front of him, walking between the tall trees as if he's a freaking god of the woods, Park Jimin is half-naked.
And it's not like Jungkook has never seen him without a shirt on before; he shouldn't be so surprised by it. But he's never truly had the opportunity to look, just look as much as he wanted.
His eyes travel almost lazily, without haste, from Jimin's black smooth hair, longer than Jungkook ever saw it, the ends forming curls around his nape and ears, sticking to his wet skin. Jungkook's eyes get stuck on the back of his neck for a moment, remembering how he grabbed it last time, how he scratched the soft skin there, how he put pressure into it until Jimin relaxed in his arms.
Jungkook swallows tightly, his Adam's apple moving up and down as his eyes lower to Jimin's shoulders, lean with muscles, broad like most alphas tend to be but still much smaller than his own. Jimin's whole figure is like that, filled with hard edges and power, strength and ability. Jungkook knows firsthand how strong he is, and maybe that's what makes him even hotter.
The thought of conquering such power, of melting the hard exterior away until he finds the perfectly soft interior he knows is hidden deep down. The thought of dominating such a force, of fighting for dominance until one of them crumbles down, it tastes so sweet on Jungkook's tongue it makes his mouth water.
His gaze drifts lower, passing through the beautiful shoulder blades that undulate every time Jimin moves his arms, he watches hypnotized for a moment, feeling that the world could end around him and he would die happily if the last thing he saw was how unbelievably mesmerizing every little part of Park Jimin seems to be.
When his eyes eventually move on, Jungkook stops at probably one of his favorite parts. Jimin's waist. He doesn't know exactly why, maybe it's the way it's always going to be hard at first touch but then the more Jungkook grabs it, holds it, squeezes between his fingers, the softer it gets. Maybe it's because Jimin makes the most delicious sounds every time Jungkook treats him harshly.
He doesn't remember being so obsessed with someone's waist before, but ever since Jungkook has had it in his palms, squeezing the hard muscles between his palms, so completely different from everything he ever had, so much better, so much more right, until he melts down the strongest person he ever met. He just can't stop thinking about it.
If he squints his eyes hard enough, he can still see the red marks of his fingers all over Jimin's pale skin, and that makes his mouth water so much Jungkook has to swallow the need down his throat and lower his gaze to another direction, because if he keeps looking at it, he will lose his sanity.
Not that he has much to begin with.
His lids fall onto the end of Jimin's back, right where the waistband of his pants is hugged by the black belt to keep it in place. And then, the world seems to stop out of sudden the moment Jungkook sees it for the first time.
Two little dimples at the end of Jimin's back, resting just on top of the black waistband.
There is a limit to everything in this world, only so much a human being could bear. And Jungkook finds his limit the moment he realizes that Park Jimin, the source of every fucking nasty dream he has ever had since puberty, has fucking back dimples.
Jungkook stumbles over his feet; the world around him seems to become red, his breath gets stuck in his throat, and his heartbeat increases so much it makes the wound on his chest pulse. He doesn't even realize he stopped, his eyes still fixed on those dimples as his thoughts run a mile per minute, making his head dizzy.
He can see himself digging both thumbs into it as he pulls Jimin back, he can imagine how the sweat that slipped down his abs would fall perfectly into those little pools when he leaned over Jimin's bent form, he can picture how they would look covered in white spurts of cum.
Jungkook's chest rises and falls faster; he is panting so hard he needs to open his mouth to breathe. His cock grows fully hard in a matter of seconds, pressing down under the fabric of his pants, begging to be free, begging to be released.
Jimin turns around when he notices the steps behind him are no longer there. "Why did you stop?" he asks, and to Jungkook's horror, he starts to walk back, closing the distance between them.
Jungkook has to use every little bit of his control not to let his scent spike, but even though he manages to keep it low, he knows Jimin will be able to smell his arousal if he gets close enough.
"Are you okay?" Jimin asks, stopping not too far from him. "You are red all over." He raises his hand and steps closer to feel Jungkook's forehead, and Jungkook actually panics.
"Don't touch me," he growls, stepping back. Something sparkles quickly in Jimin's eyes, too fast for him to grasp it before a sneer escapes his plum lips.
“Okay, sorry,” he says sarcastically, and Jungkook clears his throat, trying to fucking think past the pressure on his cock.
“Hmm, I need a moment,” he turns around and starts to walk. “Do not follow me,” he says without even looking back. God knows what he will do if he does.
Jungkook walks over the tall trees almost running. The blood inside his veins is so hot it burns his sanity away. Need, pure, primal need makes him lose grip over his control, and he knows very well that if he doesn't put distance between them, he will act on those needs.
He can't do that because he knows Jimin doesn't want it.
One thing is kissing when adrenaline is running inside your veins and you almost died; another very different thing is knowing another alpha wants to fuck the shit out of you. Fuck, if Jimin knew what is going on inside Jungkook's brain at this moment, he would kill him for sure.
Jungkook stops to breathe, resting his forehead against the thick trunk of a tree. He tries to calm down, tries to regain control, but it's all in vain because even when he closes his eyes, images of Jimin flash before his closed lids.
Jimin's broad back covered with his cum, Jimin's beautiful shoulder blades spasming each time Jungkook pounds forwards and he tries to keep his body up, Jimin's small dimples pressed down over the tips of Jungkook's thumbs, his fingers spread over the slim waist. Jimin's head down as he bites the pillow with wet eyes to stop the moans.
Jungkook's cock twitches painfully as he chokes with the amount of saliva it produces by his taste buds. All the thoughts of 'I can't do this,' 'it's disrespectful,' 'it's wrong' that have been keeping him away from doing something like this for all those years finally evaporate when he lowers his zipper down and brings his cock out.
Jungkook bites his lip to stifle the groan that escapes his lips when he gives his cock the first stroke. His knees almost buckle with the sheer pleasure that courses his body from head to toe. He lowers his head, resting his forehead on the inside of his arm, to see how his hand strokes up and down the thick length.
He watches as his fingers collect the clear liquid that makes his tip glisten, spreading it along the length, making the movements easier, and another gasp leaves his lips. He imagines Jimin there, kneeling on the dirty ground in front of him. His plump red lips spread apart, his tongue sticking out as he looks up and waits for Jungkook to give it to him.
His hips rut forward, fucking his own fist almost desperately. He tries very hard to push him away from his mind, to have at least a little bit of decency while doing something so vile. But everything his alpha wants is Jimin.
Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. Under him, on top of him, on his side, on his stomach, on his back. Bent over a table, slammed against a wall. Jimin clinging to him, Jimin crying for him, Jimin submitting to him, Jimin presenting to him.
But also Jimin fighting for control, Jimin being domineering, Jimin taking what he wants, Jimin pressing him down and riding his cock like a toy, using him as a mere object to satisfy his own needs.
Jungkook's breath gets stuck in his throat to a point he cannot breathe at all. But he doesn't fucking care, not when the pleasure running through him makes everything else diminish in the back of his mind.
His cock twitches and releases more precum that falls on the ground and wets his fingers, imagining how pretty Jimin would look covered with it.
But better than fantasies are the memories, and the goosebumps start to raise as Jungkook realizes how many he has by now. He had kissed Park Jimin, had him under his palms, squirming and trembling his body as Jungkook squeezed his flesh between his fingers. Had him moaning and gasping, had him biting his lips and fucking his mouth.
Had him gasping and needy.
His knees buckle forward as he pounds into his fist, the pleasure so strong it makes him restless, chasing the feeling like an animal consumed by need. His eyes water with the overwhelming reaction of his body because not even once had Jungkook felt this much just from a hand job, or any other way if he is honest with himself.
Jungkook is coming before he can prepare himself, hard enough to make his vision blurry and his legs weak. He falls to his knees as he the pure bliss of orgarms ake his breath away, biting his lips to not growl, hard enough to taste blood on his tongue. He watches as line after line of thick white cum hits the tree in front of him, jerking himself trought it.
It's humiliating, it's mortifying, especially when he needs to press his fingers down at the base of his cock to stop his knot from forming. How needy can he be to knot just from a jerk off?
It's agonizing, and even when the aftershocks linger, Jungkook feels like it's not enough. His cock stays half-hard, the need in the pit of his stomach remains the same. It's like a hunger he can never satisfy, an addiction that consumes his entire being.
He wants more, his alpha wants more.
Jungkook stands up again, putting his cock back in his pants. He has no idea how to get what he wants, how to smooth the fucking need that makes him act like an animal, or much less how the fuck he is going to face Jimin after this without making it obvious what he was doing.