Page 47 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 13-16

“It’s easier than getting seen talking to you. You sleep with the curtains closed.”

Jun snorted. “Can you tell Rei something for us?”

Sevastyan dipped his head in assent.

“Tell him the guys know. We’re fighting for him. All of us. They’re willing to be bait, to stay in the public eye, if it means he can come home.”

“Rei doesn’t have a home anymore. I am his home.”

“Neither of you have a home,” Jun said, softly, with more compassion than Damian had known he held towards the blond Russian. “There’s no home where there’s that much fear. But you could have one, both of you, when this is over.”

“I’ve never had a home,” Sevastyan said. He straightened up by degrees and stretched. “So, since I’m here, breakfast?”

Damian stared at the interloper and shook his head.

“What?” Sevastyan said. “I came all this way to tell you the good news. You could at least give a man coffee, a crust.”

Jun laughed out right. “Fine. We’ll feed you.”

Hunger for more than food burned in Sevastyan’s eyes. Damian’s stomach tightened, recognizing the look for what it was.

Jun leaned over and kissed Damian’s cheek, squeezing his hands quickly. “I’ll go start breakfast. Tell the others?”

Damian nodded. For a moment, he hesitated to leave Jun alone with a killer. But wasn’t he already surrounded with killers? Jun himself. Alice could have been one, but for the bullet being half a centimeter to the side. Ellisandre almost certainly had sent souls onwards. Himself, almost. The lines were thin.

He pulled on a shirt against the early morning air and went to speak with Richard.

In the kitchen a few moments later, Jun had an easy breakfast from the fridge and pantry set out buffet style on the counter. He’d set Sevastyan to collecting mugs while he started coffee. Damian settled against the back wall, watching. Sevastyan had a smooth, studied way of moving, adapting to Jun while not being quite comfortable. His eyes never left Jun except for glances at his environment. Jun was recounting his conversation with the Merchari.

“Cold, Gang. You’re cold.”

Jun snorted. “I was furious.”

“They believed you. Said your recent music was just fucked up to make them think you weren’t pulling an act.”

“Probably helped that I’ve already killed a client.”

“Ja, it did.”

Jun grimaced. He glanced towards Damian, eyes wide and vulnerable for just a flash, before a devil-may-care smile slid back into place.

Damian glided forward, caging Jun in from behind and nuzzling his wolfling’s neck, mouthing the purple bruise he’d put there the night before.

Jun groaned. “We have a guest, Alpha.”

“What? He puts his submissive on the floor in front of us.”

“Now I know you’re in a pissing contest,” Jun complained, but he was arching back into Damian, his ass pressed against Damian’s groin.

“Not looking to take your boy,” Sevastyan muttered.

Damian turned to study Sevastyan under lidded eyes, lips pressed against Jun’s bent neck. Loneliness, hope, and something darker and sadder than either etched itself in Sevastyan’s countenance. Damian drew back from Jun slowly, letting him finish with the coffee. “You can bring Rei over, if you ever want to.”

Sevastyan nodded. “If I can. When it’s safe.”

Damian nodded.

Sevastyan pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to Jun, motioning to Damian to look. “Bak Gyeong’s debt, according to the Merchari.”