Page 14 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 5-8 (The Residency Boys #7)

Jun woke in Damian’s dark bedroom with Damian still slumbering hard beside him.

The clock on Damian’s bookshelf told him it was morning.

There was a restlessness in his bones. He didn’t want to lie there in the dark.

Carefully, Jun rolled to the outer part of the squishy mattress and slithered over the edge.

The bruises hurt significantly less now even though they looked worse than ever with the blue and purple turning to ugly browns and greens. All the cuts were fully closed.

He grabbed his paper, phone, and the laptop Damian had given him the evening before, padded down the hallway past Richard, émeric, and Collin’s room to the lounge, found an open piece of rug, and sat down.

Hints of ideas were running through his head, mixed in with the remnants of his dreams, and he wanted to capture them.

The picture of his father with his happy family, and Collin talking about The Residency, the way everyone had been laughing during the New Year’s party, all of it was fermenting inside.

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.

Jun yelped. Shit, that was cold!

Damian’s fingers sliding through the lube and over his opening warmed him up quickly.

Jun wiggled. If only he could lift his ass and push back against Damian’s fingers; but between the weight on his legs and the arm on his back, he couldn’t lift his hips unless he was willing to start flailing around among his papers.

Fuck, whimpering it was then. His ass cheeks flexed and twitched, trying to tempt Damian to get on with it.

“Please.”

“What are you supposed to call me?”

“Damn it! Alpha, please, hurry up.”

Damian slowed down his hand, just barely circling Jun’s hole. Everything was slick and sensitive, and he didn’t even care anymore that Damian was staring at him.

“Please.”

“How do you ask?” Damian’s finger went even slower. His voice had dropped an octave.

Jun shivered. He dropped his head to the rug. “Please, Alpha, get on with it and fuck me. I need it.”

Damian hummed noncommittally, but his finger dipped inside Jun’s hole, then pressed in deeper, still obnoxiously slow. “You’re so tight, boy. You haven’t been caught very many times yet. You need to be trained to take your alpha’s cock.”

Jun snapped his teeth, pushing back against Damian’s hold. “I’m not that tight. You’re torturing me.”

“You sure, boy?” Damian pressed two fingers into him suddenly.

Gah! Jun went limp on the floor, fingers uncurled. It burned. Fuck, maybe Damian was right. He whimpered.

Damian went back to just one finger, soothing the burn, rotating his digit slowly inside Jun’s body, steady, sustained pressure against the ring of muscle holding Jun closed.

“If you’re going to be this desperate, maybe we need to do some sustained training so you can take cock quickly. Perhaps a plug.”

Jun growled. He was not going to walk around with a plug in his ass. He barely knew what one was, but it didn’t sound like a good idea for dancing and exercising.

“Or, if plugs don’t work, I could just put you on a fucking machine for thirty minutes each night.” Damian eased his second finger back inside Jun’s ass. It didn’t burn like before. But it did make him feel full.

Jun whined. The idea of being trained to take cock made him hot inside and triggered an instinctual urge to fight.

But if Damian wanted to overpower him and train him, he wasn’t going to complain.

Well, actually, he would, loudly and with cuss words, but it didn’t mean he wanted Damian to give up on the idea.

Thank fuck for safe words. Resisting was a goddamn aphrodisiac.

Jun struggled a little, just to feel Damian push him back down.

“One more finger, boy, and then you can have cock.”

“So much talk,” Jun growled.

“Tap out if you need to safe word, boy.” Damian moved, pressing a hand down on Jun’s face and shoving four fingers in his mouth, effectively gagging him. His legs held down Jun’s back and upper thighs, and his fingers kept working in and out of Jun’s ass.

Sweet, merciful heavens, this was better than ice cream.

So much pressure, so much solid control.

Jun whimpered, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Why did not being able to complain or snap back feel so good?

He rolled his ass as much as he could, working with Damian’s fingers, begging with his body.

He sucked on Damian’s hand in his mouth, relishing the way all four digits forced his jaw apart.

Damian sank three fingers into Jun’s hole.

It ached a little. Jun arched his back into them, willing himself to relax and open.

They sank deeper, and suddenly, there was a stroke, a caress against the bundle of nerves inside of him, and his body lit up.

He couldn’t help the shaking and pushing, trying to get that feeling again.

Damian obliged, pressing the pad of one finger down just there on that spot.

Incoherent sounds funneled out of Jun’s throat and past Damian’s fingers, filling the room with an indecent soundtrack.

If this was what training his hole for cock was like, Damian could do it every day. Maybe twice.

“You’re ready.” Damian pressed a kiss to Jun’s shoulder.

He moved his legs, the pressure on Jun’s back momentarily gone.

Damian stood, his feet on either side of Jun’s thighs, holding him in place.

There was noise of more lube spurting out, then Damian crouched down, kneeling.

He pried Jun’s cheeks apart and pressed his cock against Jun’s hole.

Jun buried his fingers in the rug. Gods, he wanted this so bad.

Damian pushed forward with his hips. His cock crested Jun’s outer ring, forcing him open. Jun breathed through it, reaching for Damian’s hand on the carpet.

“Please, Alpha.”

Damian kissed his shoulder again and then grabbed the hair on the back of Jun’s head, pulling him up and forcing him to arch his back.

“Spread your legs as far as you can.”

Jun obeyed. It wasn’t far, not with Damian kneeling on either side of him, but it was a little, and with Damian’s next thrust, cock, so much beautiful, thick cock, slid inside of him, pinning him to the floor and lighting up all the nerves and senses in his body.

It was scary being forced open and thrilling to be close.

Even though they’d done this before, it still was overwhelming and fresh.

He needed to learn how to breathe all over again, but his breath was short and shallow with his head pulled back.

“Beautiful. So beautiful. All the muscles in your back are rippling for me.” Damian stroked Jun’s arched spine. Slowly, he lowered Jun’s head to the floor, letting him breathe.

Jun blinked away white spots. His vision cleared, and he gulped for air. Damian moved inside him, in and out, steady and firm.

Limp and submissive, Jun lay on the floor, taking it. He was floating on the sensations, on the heat, the subtle burn, the sound of squelching lube, the weight of all of Damian’s strong body over his.

“Good boy.” Damian stroked the side of Jun’s face, over his neck, down his arms. “This is what you needed.”

Jun nodded, trying to make words but only making needy sounds.

“You don’t have to speak, boy. Just take.”

Damian sped up his thrusts. Pressure and pleasure built in waves through Jun’s body. He squeezed Damian’s hand, trying to express gratitude, tried to press back, but every slam of Damian’s hips into his ass pushed him back down. His dick was going to be sore from carpet burn.

One moment he was just trying to breathe through the rolling pressure, and the next moment, his vision was white and sparkly and he was screaming through his teeth against Damian’s hand, his cock jerking cum into the rug.

Damian’s thrusts sped up, dragging electricity over the nerves inside his hole, and then he was so much wetter inside, more squelchy, and Damian was barely moving, a heavy, heaving blanket draped over his shoulder.

“We should stay like this forever,” Jun murmured when speech was eventually possible.

Damian chuckled, the waves of his amusement rolling through his abs and into Jun’s back. “But we can’t. We have to eat and do things.”

“Not yet, please.” He tangled his fingers in Damian’s hand. Richard was right; Damian was his wolf, his Alpha. And it felt so damn comforting. So good. Pure good, not conditional good, not almost good, not nice, but actually good. Good good.

He was so fucked out he was losing his words.

Damian nuzzled his head. Jun wiggled back. In time, Damian eased up on his hands and knees, dragging his soft cock out of Jun’s ass. He stroked Jun’s back, his rear, and down to the top of his thighs.

“How did I get so lucky?” Damian sounded like he was in awe.

Jun blushed, hiding his face in his arm. “You were patient, you came for me, you fought for me. I don’t think that’s luck.”

Damian laughed softly. He pressed kisses to the small of Jun’s back. “Let’s get you cleaned and fed. I have to get into the office and find out what happened in Seoul while we were asleep.”

From somewhere under the sheets of paper, Jun’s phone went off. Damian snagged it for him.

It was a text from Mi Hi. It was sent to both Damian and Jun as well as the other four band members. Just got this message from an unidentified account:

Below that was pasted an unsigned message: Jun can come back to the fold, or we can destroy him. His fans might forgive him for being half Chinese, but they won’t forgive him for being a murderer. Better plead insanity. Be on a plane home within twenty-four hours or face murder charges.

Rage burned through Jun’s euphoria. “I’m not a murderer.

” He could feel his own blood on his hands.

The silk of the clothes that they’d forced him to wear.

The smell of the soju on the floor. He was there, again, cold and furious and afraid, looking at the bodies in front of him, holding a hand to his injured belly, face throbbing.

He’d fought, but they were still coming for him.

Hands clasped his face. He smelled Damian’s aftershave, spicy and herbal.

“I’m not a murderer.”

“If I was scared of killers, I wouldn’t be close to Richard, or Collin, or Alice. Remember what I was arrested for?”

Jun laughed, a raw, terrible sound. “We shouldn’t have to fight like this.”

“No. We shouldn’t have. But we’re all free today. And you’re going to stay free.”

Jun’s eyes burned. “I’m going to destroy them, Alpha. I’m going to burn them to the ground. I don’t know how, but I know you do.” He wrapped his hands around Damian’s hand and gripped it. “Tell me what to do.”