Do it. I dare you. (Patreon)

Jeongguk hates Jimin with a passion.

Ever since Jimin became the physical therapist for their soccer team, Jeongguk just felt an instant aversion, and he’s never tried to hide it.

It’s mostly because he can tell Jimin thinks he’s so much better than the team. Privileged high-educated rich boy is written all over his face. Plus, Jimin hates soccer. Jeongguk has overheard him on the phone, talking about how he fucking hates “looking at a bunch of brainless oafs running after a ball all day”

He’s only doing this because he wants to make big bucks, and Jeongguk can’t stand that attitude.

Even worse is that Jimin is older than him, and he’s forced to call him “hyung.” By his coach. Every time he utters the word, his stomach turns, and Jimin seems to relish it.

It’s an afternoon where he sprains his ankle on the field, and has to take the walk of shame to Jimin’s office, that he sees something he isn’t supposed to see.

Jimin is full on making out.

With a fucking guy.

Jeongguk freezes, eyes widening at the sight before him.

It’s desperate and hasty, hands frantically roaming over the other’s body, heavy breaths and needy moans between kisses, the other guy has his pants unzipped, Jimin’s hand dipped into his underwear.

This is.. fucking insane.

Some sort of sick satisfaction runs through Jeongguk as he watches.

He just knew there was something wrong with Jimin. There had to be something wrong with mr. “I’m above all of this.”

God, this is better than he could have imagined. He just watches for a few more seconds, sitting down on the table Jimin uses to examine them.

It’s only when the other guy opens his eyes and sees him, that Jimin looks over his shoulder, caught in the act.

“Jeon- you’re- what are you- when did you- why are you here?”

Jimin rushes to straighten himself up, and the other guy just rushes out of there. Jeongguk watches him go, small smirk on his face. Then he just relaxes a little on the table, looks over at Jimin.

“Sprained my ankle.”

He says, nodding at it.

Jimin’s cheeks are pink as he walks over with two quick steps. He’s still semi-hard, those pants don’t leave much to the imagination. Fucking insane, that he caught this exact moment.

He lets Jimin examine his ankle without saying a single thing, knows that it gets under his skin because he can see just how many times Jimin looks up from under his lashes to check why he isn’t commenting.

Jeongguk basks in it, corners of his mouth curling up.

“It’s uh.. it’s sprained.”

Jimin mumbles, going to look for some ice.

“Yeah, I said that.”

Jeongguk follows Jimin’s every move, wants him to feel his eyes burning on his skin.

Jimin comes back with the ice, face even redder than before. God, it’s doing something to him.

“Had a good time, hyung?”

He asks, tilting his head.

Jimin looks up, eyes hardening, despite looking like he could cry.

“It’s none of your business.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know why but it sends a hot rush down his spine. The image of Jimin all over that guy replays in his mind, and he needs to take it one step further.

“No? What if I told the coach?”

It’s no secret their coach is a raging homophobe. Jimin would lose his job within a second. Fuck, he loves that he has this blackmail material, this is going to make visits so much more fun.

Jimin puts pressure on his ankle, and Jeongguk winces, sharp pain shooting up his leg.

“Do it.” Jimin says, face a few inches away from his own, a certain fire in his eyes that has Jeongguk hypnotised. “I dare you.”

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