Page 38 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16
Émeric shook his head. “He didn’t just manipulate you, he manipulated your fans, and the people around him. He kept information from some and gave the wrong information to others. And he encouraged plausible deniability. The nice guy, the friendly guy, the one they have drinks with—it covers a multitude of sins. People don’t like turning in their own, especially when they don’t have an actual crime.”
“Remind me to never become a nice guy,” Jun snarked.
Émeric’s eyes crinkled up with amusement. “No, you’re my little crime.”
Jun snorted. And blushed. The last of his hot chocolate became suddenly fascinating.
Damian
Damian offered Eleanor a hand down as they both exited the SUV onto the cordoned off street outside the Church. A giant event tent had been set up in the intersection by the front entrance. People were moving back and forth, some setting up, some there just to join the festivities.
“It’s so… big.” Eleanor raised both eyebrows, looking around.
Damian nodded. “Investors, locals, and fans. It is an event.”
May had had the idea to invite food trucks to come and make a food ally after Jun had gotten permission to close the street. There were a variety of benefits from doing this, not the least of which was opening a discussion with the local officials about having regular street shutdowns for events. That had started entirely without Damian’s involvement. Community projects had habits of growing in ways that couldn’t be foreseen.
“I’ll let you get ready,” Eleanor squeezed Damian’s hand goodbye. “Don’t worry, I’ll go make nice with all your investors.”
Damian shot her a tight, grateful smile.
A temporary stage had been set up outside on the street and a local Chicago rock band was up tweaking their sound system. Outdoor heaters were set out and ready but fortunately didn’t seem like they would be needed. The food trucks were already selling to a small crowd. Some enterprising individuals were hawking from blankets and small tables. They certainly didn’t have licenses, but he wasn’t going to report them.
Shadowed by Timothy, his security, Damian got through the not quite open festivities to the Parsonage. Cedric met him at the door, armed and ready. Damian shook his hand and stepped inside. Rue and Kimbo ran up, hugging him around the waist. He hugged them back. They were both dressed up, Rue in a big yellow dress with lots of layers and ribbon that made her look like she was popping out of a flower and Kimbo in a smart shirt and vest over black jeans and cowboy boots. If he had to guess, they’d both had a lot of input concerning their outfits.
Armada came out of the kitchen, Habibi tied up on her back in an African print baby wrap. She’d gone for a slim black slip dress with a high neck and no sleeves. It was elegant and bold against the bright print wrap around Habibi. Someone had done her makeup in gold highlights.
Damian held out his hands to her. “You look stunning.”
She blushed. “Émeric helped. I’m just glad it fits. Jun’s upstairs. Mi Hi sent them all away, now that people are arriving.”
“Are you going out?”
“The kids want to see the food trucks and the music. Anna is just finishing up. Don’t worry, Anna’s brothers and father are staying with us.”
“I’m glad they could make it.”
Damian jogged up the stairs. There was no one on the second floor, so he went on to the attic where Jaewoong usually held court with his tech.
5N was all there, dressed in black and silver, each outfit unique but matching the color theme. Yohei and Su-jin were the only ones not wearing leather straps in some way.
Damian took them in. “Well, damn.” A man had to appreciate some well done fashion.
Geun smirked, thumbs in his belt buckle. He wore large silver rings on almost every finger and on one of his thumbs paired with oversized cargo pants with straps. Yohei leaned back against Jaewoong’s desk. His dark mesh shirt rode up, showing a sliver of hollowed out hip bones above wide-legged shimmering black jeans. Whoever had done his makeup had given him a full mask of black glitter across his eyes and sweeping up towards his hair, like wings. Su-jin came out from behind him, a black waist cincher holding a billowing poet shirt in place, the throat open down the center. Knee-high boots and tight black jeans gave the impression of impossibly long slim legs.
Jaewoong laughed at Damian’s expression, looking them all over. He had a leather vest full of straps hanging from his shoulders. Slashed pants and leather bracers on both arms up to his elbows rounded out his look. “Wait till he sees Jun.”
Damian turned around.
Jun stood with his thumbs in his pant pockets. He was wearing a full corset vest, a skin tight shiny black shirt beneath it. Like Su-jin, he wore knee-high leather boots. Crossed belts wrapped around his hips carved out Jun’s shape over a pair of tight black jeans.
“Wolfling.”
Jun smiled through his black lipstick. “Did you bring my earring?”
“Black and silver.” Damian gulped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the jewelry box he’d picked up only that afternoon. It was a black orb in the shape of a Chinese lantern, except the outlines were silver and the falling tassels were black. In each pane of the lantern, he’d had the crafter sketch the image of the buddha in the same posture as the jade Jun had worn so long.
Jun turned, giving Damian his ear. As he leaned in, he whispered just for Damian. “Tag me, Alpha.”
