𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓣⓗⓘⓡⓣⓨⓢⓔⓥⓔⓝ

Jimin glanced quickly at his watch before peeking into his Master's room, making sure there was absolutely no one there. Obviously, there was not, as both Taehyung and Jungkook had gone to work out. Each their workouts never took any less than two hours, which gave plenty of time for him to partake in his own... interests. He bit down on his lip as the familiar scent of Taehyung's cologne surrounded him, mimicking his presence. His hand naturally went under his dress shirt to touch himself, imagining it was his hands instead of his own. He could not even begin to fathom at how incredible the man's large, calloused hands could possibly feel on his sensitive skin, grabbing and clawing at it. He shivered at the thought.

He sat down on Taehyung's side of the bed, hand gliding across the soft cover of it. This is where he sleeps, he thought, a faint smile on his face. He had visited this bed many times before, yet every new time was better than the last. He leaned down and put his cheek against the pillow, inhaling deeply to take in the scent of the man he admired, the scent that made him squirm in place whenever he passed by him. He had never been lucky enough for them to brush up against one another, for his scent to be any closer than arm's distance; but he knew it would happen any time soon. He had to be patient.

However, he had seen it all. His Master's naked body in all its splendor, the way his muscles twitched without effort with every move he made. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jimin was not quite sure; the man was far from a prude. He would walk around completely naked from time to time, either lost in thought or simply not very fazed by it. It always surprised Jimin and he could not help but take a couple of glances, trying to remember every single line and curve of his body as subtly as he could. He enjoyed how his Master was this comfortable around him, but a part of him wished he would notice Jimin's slight embarrassment. Maybe it would have hinted at his liking, making things a little easier for him. However, the man was completely clueless. To him, Jimin was simply an employee, maybe even the slightest of friends, but nothing more. It was hard to be so infatuated by him and stay professional, but fortunately the months he had spent with him only reinforced his poker face. No one could ever guess he was obsessed with his employer; not even the man's own lover.

He had not been originally so enthralled by him; it had been something that had manifested itself over time, growing stronger and deeper with every passing minute he spent with him. He recalled the first time they met: he had been taken aback by the man's dark, mysterious beauty, by the way he stood completely straight, the way his dark eyes spoke so many words without him even having to part his lips. There was something unusual about him, he had known that, but it had only drawn him deeper into his curiosity for the man, which led him to signing the contract without batting an eyelash.

He would have lied if he had said he had not been slightly uncomfortable by what the man had confessed to taking part in, but it was not something too shocking nor surprising considering all his past employers. He had seen many, many weird things... but the paycheck at the end was all worth it. He had a small fortune of his own, with which he could live comfortably with the rest of his life. When he had met Taehyung, however, he had convinced himself he still had a couple of years of work left in his body before taking his rather early retirement. That first contact, the first glance they had shared; it changed him.

Over the past years he had been employed by various different people among the haute bourgeoisie of the city: successful businessmen, millionaire widows, drug cartel leaders, mafia members; all of them had their own dirty little secrets, which made Taehyung's 'hobby' less shocking than the man thought it would have been. He remembered the way Taehyung looked at him with admiration when Jimin had barely reacted to his revelation; it had made his heart skip a beat. Was this what people called love at first sight? Or was it something darker and unknown to Jimin? It was indeed the first time he had felt this way; the first time he had been so obsessed with anyone. Out of all the people he could have idolized, his brain chose to admire a serial killer. What luck.

The turning point of his liking for his Master was when he mistakenly caught him making love to his lover. A part of him had told him to look away, turn around and forget about it, but the perverted, captivated side of him had dominated the other. He had watched intently, imagining himself in Jungkook's place, touching himself at the thought and sight. He had been seized by the view, completely and utterly taken over by watching his Master in all his erotic grandeur. He was so rough, so passionate, so... raw. The simple memory of it made Jimin drool in desire; made his cock twitch in yearning for the man's touch. He would wait as long as it would take; he would wait for the perfect opportunity. He knew his Master could like him; he was simply too distracted by that other man; whomever he was. Most likely just a passing man. At least, that was what Jimin hoped.

Jimin undressed himself completely and slipped under the blankets, shivering at the touch of the amazingly soft silk against his responsive skin, wondering how it would feel to sleep on his Master's chest underneath these same sheets, or how it would be to be fucked in them. His hand instinctively reached down to his hard erection, fingers fumbling with his testicles as his lips parted, soft moans escaping his mouth.