Page 25 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16
Jun leaned in as soon as they were alone. “There’s one more decision you need to make.”
“One more?” Damian looked beseechingly at his wolfling. But Jun looked serious. Damian squared his shoulders. “Hit me.”
Jun slid his arm around Damian’s waist and turned him so that they were both looking at the wall behind the altar, up past the baptismal window to the crucified son of god hanging in agony on the wall. “Do we keep it, move it, or send it away?”
Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. He sagged forward, the altar digging into the front of his hips. This wasn’t something he’d thought about. Jun let him go. Damian pressed his palms to the hard surface, looking down.
“I don’t know. It’s important, to some. If this space is going to belong to more than me—” Damian breathed out slowly. “What do you see?”
Jun sighed in return. “I don’t think I should tell you. I wasn’t raised in your culture. It doesn’t mean the same to me.”
“I want to know what you see, outside my culture. I see stories. I hear meaning. But not everyone coming here in the future will have my history.”
“I see torture.” Jun’s voice dropped, dark and hard. “I see blood. I see death glorified. It’s a hanging sacrifice. Death wasn’t enough. It’s a spectacle. Something beautiful ruined, then frozen in time to be glorified. What do you see?”
“I don’t know,” Damian whispered. “I know what I’m supposed to see, the son of god dying for my sins because he loves me. I haven’t believed that in years.”
“Then what do you see? Not what you’ve been told to see. What do you actually see?”
“You sound like Émeric.”
Jun huffed, a hint of humor, but he didn’t let up. Damian looked up at the crucified figure again.
“Pain. I see pain.” Tears stung Damian’s eyes. “I remember looking up and seeing that blood, those wounds. I wasn’t hurt that bad. I wasn’t crucified. If god didn’t come for his own son when he looked like this, he wouldn’t come for me. If Christ was willing to become this, then my own pain was nothing.”
Jun wrapped his arms around Damian from behind, his chin on Damian’s shoulder. “When people come here, what do you want them to experience?”
“Joy. Wonder. Community.”
“Then what belongs behind the stage?”
“Not death, not like this.”
“Collin and I can save it, if you need it.”
Tears clogged Damian’s throat. After all these years, after all the lies, and he was crying for the Christ again. “No, it’s time. Every time I look up, I wish his suffering would stop. They told us we had done that to him. I only ever wanted to make things right. Then I learned I never could.”
“That’s what they told you?” Jun breathed.
Damian nodded, unable to speak.
Jun held him tighter, pressing Damian against the altar. “I’ll make it right, Alpha. No more suffering, no more damned sons.”
Jun
Jun pulled off his headphones and grinned at Jaewoong across the rough office space they’d set up for 5N in the Parsonage. It was Wednesday, though Jun kept having to check his phone to remind himself of the day. Between helping Collin and the architects on the Sanctuary, working with Mi Hi on their press releases and album notes, and actually writing more music, his days were blurring together. The only reason he’d eaten breakfast was because Émeric had texted him. Even to himself, it wasn’t clear if he had to work this hard, or if he was trying to fill up his time so that he couldn’t think of the warrant’s thirty day timer, down now to only twenty. Damian had left that morning on yet another trip, even though he’d just come back, and wouldn’t return again until Friday afternoon.
Which was all the more reason to be here listening to the tape of their last recording. Jaewoong’s computer equipment and various instruments littered the fold-out tables and floor. He had taken over the attic for his room and his tools and Geun had rounded up help and dragged two used couches in. The place was clean if very second-hand and battered.
“It’s perfect,” Jun grinned.
“I mean, maybe there’s a few tweaks but…” Jaewoong grinned.
“It’s fire,” Jun said, firmly and smirked.
Jaewoong’s smile went wide. “After I layered in that second drum line…”
“All the difference.” Jun nodded. “Who else has heard this?”
