Page 87 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 5-8
“Do we dance shirtless in this one or not?”
Damian groaned and put a hand over his face, shaking his head hard.
“How about you record two versions? One with shirts and one without.”
“Brilliant.” Jun grinned and headed toward the gym. “I’ll tell the guys.”
Damian shook his head. “Go dance, wolfling, before I do something irresponsible like drive all the way up there right now and chase you down.”
Jun shivered. “You should do that. Soon.”
“We will. It’s going to be cold, though.”
Jun made a face. “This is why you should do Collin’s idea and put a hunting area into the remodel.” He pulled up his shirt and flexed his stomach muscles. They were looking ripped right now after three hours of working out. Even the bruises looked better covered in sweat.
Damian groaned. “Point made. Now. Go. Dance. My control is wavering.”
Jun blew Damian a kiss and ended the call. Having a boyfriend was awesome. Having someone to tease was icing on the cake.
Jun
Late in the evening, when they had all danced themselves out and Gigi’s voice was cracking from counting beats, they headed down to the kitchen to eat. Mi Hi had followed Gigi’s instructions for Mexican Night, which seemed to be code for a lot of things that you could choose to put inside a tortilla. There was a small flotilla of bowls laid out in a choose-your-own-adventure style and a stack of plates so everyone could create according to their palates.
“We need something like this,” Jaewoong said, knocking his knuckles against the center island around which they were all gathered.
“A big, sturdy table we can all lean on?” Gigi frowned. She poured sour cream over her rice and beans and reached for one of the salsas.
“Someplace to live and practice together.” Jaewoong held out his hand and motioned Geun to give him a tortilla.
“Oh, I like that.” Su-jin shimmied a little and shoved a bite of his burrito into his mouth. It looked more like a vehicle for cheese than a wrap for beans, rice, or meat.
Geun huffed. “Hot sauce?”
“You have it.” Gigi pointed to the bottle in his hand.
“It’s not hot.”
Jun grinned. “That’s because you have an iron stomach.”
Geun snorted and poured what he had onto his plate. “It’s not hot.”
Gigi pulled a face. “Hot enough to make me cry. Keep that away from me.”
“Seriously, guys, stay on topic. We need a place to live and work together.” Jaewoong rapped his knuckles on the counter.
Geun grunted. “Buy one.”
Su-jin slumped over his plate. “We’re not getting paid. We don’t have that kind of money.”
Geun’s lip curled. “Fire Bak, take his place.”
Jaewoong sighed. “If only.”
“I think it should be here, well, in Chicago.” Su-jin eyed his cheese monster carefully, deciding where to bite next. “Gigi has friends here. Damian is here.”
“What will our Korean fans say?”
Mi Hi, on the barstool beside Gigi, swallowed and wiped her mouth carefully. “There’s already several established K-pop artists who choose to live in the US. And several American K-pop artists who split their time between both places.”
