Page 60 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 5-8
Lyrics and melody lines spun out, not yet fully coherent pieces but scraps that would soon become solvent building blocks. There was a darkness inside of them, themes drawn in black and red, blue suns and purple veins, but somehow, as he wrote down the string spooling out of him, the darkness was crystalizing. Speaking evil’s name and drawing out its game was an act of war. Fighting was an act of hope.
For so long, he hadn’t dared look at the dark discomfort. He’d taken up each whiff of deception, each unsettling sense of being used, and crushed them until they were powder inside his bones, poisoning him from the inside out. To acknowledge them would have been to shatter what was.
But now what was had been shattered, and he was bleeding ink on the paper around him, draining poison from marrow.
The door opened behind him, and Damian entered, sleeping pants hanging low on his hips. Jun wiggled his butt from where he lay on his stomach, surrounded by paper. Damian crouched down and crawled up over him, caging Jun in with his arms and settling his hips over Jun’s butt.
“Morning.” He kissed the side of Jun’s neck.
“Morning.” Jun turned his head and captured Damian’s lips. “Do we have time?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?” Damian went back to nibbling on Jun’s neck, working his way up to his ear.
Jun shivered. The weight and warmth of Damian on his back was intoxicating. His lips were sending waves through Jun’s nerves. “You should come back—with lube—and take me. Right here.”
“But you’re working.”
“I want it. Here, right here. Every time I work on these songs again, I’ll think of you.”
Damian sucked on the lobe of Jun’s ear.
Jun groaned, head falling back. “Please, DaSu.”
“Call me Alpha.”
Jun whimpered. “Why?”
“Because I’m the wolf that’s going to hunt you, and Collin already calls Émeric Sir and Richard Master.”
“You’ve”—Jun’s breath hitched— “thought about this…already.”
“Yes.” Damian dragged his teeth down Jun’s ear.
Jun moaned. “Okay, okay, Please, Alpha.”
Damian bit just a little harder, and then his weight was gone. Jun looked over his shoulder only to see Damian’s feet disappearing down the hall. A ragged sigh left his throat. He dropped his forehead on his forearms, hiding his face against the carpet.
Only a few moments later, he felt Damian return. The door to the lounge closed. Jun kept his head down, waiting. Knowing he was being watched and not looking back made his skin prickle.
Hands grabbed Jun’s hips, pulling down his pants and leaving him bare-assed. Damian palmed Jun’s butt, grabbing two handfuls of it.
“You have a beautiful peach, boy.”
Jun groaned. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t think so. It looks like a peach to me with a nice split right down the center.” Damian dragged a finger down Jun’s crack, then pried Jun’s cheeks apart, and spread him.
Jun wiggled. The idea of Damian staring at his hole was almost too much. He couldn’t just take that lying down. He pushed up with his arms.
“No.” Damian dropped an elbow on Jun’s back, forcing him back to the floor. “You asked, and now you will take.”
“This isn’t fucking; this is staring.”
“I like staring at what I’m about to fuck. It’s called appreciation.”
Jun growled, pushing back. “It’s called embarrassing.”
“Oh, boy, I’m going to do much, much more than stare at your hole in the future.” He dropped a glob of slick between Jun’s cheeks.
