Page 63 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16
Jun woke with fragments of dreams clinging to his skin, his senses half present with the white sheets under his cheek and half still imagining his hand laying against cold, dark hardwood floors with flames rising around his body as the police chief stared back at him from dead eyes. Aftermath. Someday he was going to write a song titled Aftermath. Maybe it would be today. It was there, under his skin. He snuggled back, feeling Damian’s hand on his hip. Not enough. He flipped over and pressed himself against Damian, chest to chest. Still mostly asleep, Damian settled against him.
“DaSu.”
“Hm.” Damian rubbed his head against his pillow.
“DaSu.” Jun ran his hands up and down Damian’s strong back and over his butt. Damn, but his man had a beautiful, thick ass. And thighs to match.
Jun dragged his lips over Damian’s hairline. Not enough. Need formed inside his belly, deep and aching. He dragged Damian’s hand up to his lips and licked and mouthed Damian’s palm, up his thumb and over to his fingers.
Damian rumbled in his chest, his thigh going over Jun’s and pinning him in place. “Wolfling.”
Jun rumbled back, not letting up. He made it up to Damian’s wrist and mouthed, kneading Damian’s bones and tendons with his lip-covered teeth, sucking here and there. More. He wanted more. A push, and Damian rolled over, letting Jun climb on top of him. There was sweat in the bend of his elbow. Jun licked it away and sucked until Damian groaned. Up and up, over the soft, relaxed pile of his bicep and the strong sinews leading to his shoulder. Over the collar bones.
Damian. Damian. His Damian.
A warm palm settled against Jun’s bare ass. Damian’s fingers curled inward, taking a handful of Jun’s posterior. Jun leaned into the grip, never letting up on his soft assault on Damian’s neck, climbing towards his jaw.
“Precious wolf,” Damian murmured.
Jun sucked harder, his knees gripping Damian’s sides. Damian’s hands ran up and down his ribs, encouraging Jun to do as he would. Jun dragged his lips over Damian’s ear, eliciting a twitch and a shudder. He made his way over Damian’s forehead, down to his other ear, down his neck, and to his arm. Damian let him, releasing Jun’s ass so Jun could trace an identical path. He stopped, straddling Damian, looking down at him, Damian’s forefinger in his mouth.
Damian looked up at him from half-lidded eyes. “Hungry, wolfling?”
Hungry?
No. He was marking his territory. He was making the future real. A future where he came back to this bed that now smelled like them and lay down with his chosen person again and slept as peacefully as the scars on their souls let them.
Damian sensed the words Jun couldn’t say. He reached up, curling his fingers around the back of Jun’s neck and pushing up from the bed, so that Jun was straddling his hips, their chests pressed together. Music throbbed under his skin, as if he was picking up the beat of Damian’s heart and channeling it into chords, strong and driving. He wrapped his hands behind Damian’s head and bit and sucked on Damian’s lips until Damian pinned him in place, kissing him properly, taking control.
It was there, rolling through him, everything he knew to be true between them, the wasteland of history around them, and the bastion of community upon which they had built themselves. Tears ran down his face. He had to touch everywhere. Damian’s head, his shoulders, his arms, his face. There was salt on his tongue from licking his own tears off Damian’s face. Or maybe those were Damian’s tears. Something surged between them, greater than words. Deeper than breath.
They tangled, differences lost, two parts of a living union.
“Jun,” Damian whispered.
“DaSu.”
“Forever. Tell me this is forever.”
“Can Collin’s mom do something witchy and tie our souls together?”
“We could ask.”
Jun laughed, his nose pressed against Damian’s cheek. Then Damian was laughing with him, something beautiful and overwhelming making his belly roll against Jun’s hips and stomach.
“DaSu,” Jun whispered into the quiet that followed.
“Yes.”
“If they take me, if they end me, remember, I’m not dead.”
“How?”
“Because I’ll never leave you, and you’ll always have my voice.”
“Jun,” Damian choked up, his arms more than holding Jun’s body against his. He seemed to want to fold Jun inside his ribs, to keep him forever. Jun bent to the embrace, sweat sliding down their joined skin. “Don’t tell me not to follow you.”
“No,” Jun whispered, “I won’t tell you not to follow me, but if you could, I would tell you to live.”
