Page 2 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 5-8 (The Residency Boys #7)

“I’ll say hello,” Damian promised.

As they walked away Jun leaned into Damian. “Poko?”

Damian shook his head. “I’m not sure how it started. I had a Pokémon phase. Somehow that turned into Poko.”

“Pokémon, Poko, I mean, the first three letters are the same?” Jun gave Damian an incredulous look.

Damian laughed. He slung an arm over Jun’s shoulder and pulled him close. “It’s a thing. Just go with it. You don’t get to choose your nickname around here. It’s whatever sticks.”

“Great, so what am I going to be, Singsong?”

Damian chuckled. “Not likely. Come on, we’ll do a circuit. I’m not going to walk past my dad’s house, but we can take a stroll past Kalisha’s place. Then we’ll give Cedric a break.”

Cedric snorted. “Small mercies.”

They reached the end of the block and turned left. As they passed a heavily barred corner store, a group of three men stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of them.

Damian took Jun’s arms and moved Jun behind him. At first, it seemed like they were going to just pass each other. They weren’t that close, the three men walking in the empty parking lot and Damian, Jun, and Cedric on the sidewalk.

One man muttered something to the other two, and their attention all turned to Damian.

“Boy!”

Damian sighed. “Mr. Doyle.”

“That’s Pastor Doyle.”

Well, fuck. That man. Jun drew in a slow breath and schooled his features to be placid.

Doyle stormed across the small parking lot, his coat flapping on either side of his belly. “Boy, we need to talk.”

Damian kept his voice even. “I’m sure we said all that needed to be said last time we spoke.”

“You weren’t listening.”

“You want the church reopened.”

“Yes. This neighborhood needs its heart and soul back. The Lord can do great work here…”

“Unless your numbers changed, there aren’t enough members of the church to carry the utilities, let alone the upkeep expenses of the campus, not to mention the mortgage.”

“Mortgage?”

“Mortgage.” Damian shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “I didn’t buy the place for nothing. The base price included multiple property liens, unpaid utilities going back years, and certain safety measures. I can’t afford to give away the property.”

“Treasures in heaven, young man.”

Damian put up his hand. “Mr. Doyle.”

“ Pastor Doyle,” one of the men with Doyle cut in.

“He’s not my pastor,” Damian countered softly. “Mr. Doyle, please recognize the fact that I am not a believer in your religion.”

The other member of Doyle’s entourage bent over as if wounded by Damian’s statement. “We’ll pray for you.”

“Please don’t,” Damian whispered, then more strongly, he said, “Anything else, Mr. Doyle?”

Doyle narrowed his eyes, looking Damian up and down. “You’re not creating goodwill here, boy. The least you could do is donate…”

“Don’t ask me for money. I already give more to this community than you do.”

Doyle drew himself up, bristling. One of the men with him hissed.

“You were a disappointment then, and I see fame and fortune hasn’t improved you now. At least your sister is loyal. I suppose we can’t expect better from a man who raises his hand against his own father and abandons his blood while he lives in luxury.”

Damian opened his mouth and closed it.

“Shame on you,” one of Doyle’s friends spat.

“Shame on you ,” Jun growled.

Damian put a hand on Jun’s arm.

“Traitor,” one of Doyle’s friends spat. “Poor Kramer. May God comfort him.”

Jun gave Damian a look. “You’re seriously going to take this?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Damian moved to continue on their walk.

“The sinful man cannot hold up his head in the presence of the righteous. Let a man be known by his works.”

Jun looked back at Doyle. The man stood there as if he’d won something, something ugly and hungry in his face. It was true. In the grand scheme of things, Damian was right; Doyle wasn’t a man with any power…except the power to hurt Damian. Damian didn’t seem to realize how hurt he was.

Jun paused. A sentence and he could tear Doyle apart. He was just so…small.

“It’s not worth the effort,” Damian said. “He wants me angry.”

Fine, but only because Damian was asking.

“Let’s go.” Jun grabbed Damian’s hand. “I think I know why you left this place.” He waved toward the SUV. It rolled forward, and Jun pulled open the door. Cedric was staying on alert.

“I’m not running away,” Damian said through clenched teeth.

“No, you’re taking me out of here before I rearrange another old man’s face. I think the legal limit is one a week.”

Cedric choked out a laugh. “He has you there, boss.”

Damian groaned, letting the door shut. “Fine. Then let’s go shopping. I need something to get this out of my head.”

Jun leaned over the seat rest and pressed his lips against Damian’s jaw. “I can do that.”

“Where’s a partition when you need it?” Cedric complained. “Feel up your man when I’m not contractually obligated to watch.”

Damian burst out laughing.

Jun sank back into his seat but grabbed Damian’s hand. He squeezed it. “Guess neither of us is good enough for where we come from.”

Damian squeezed his hand back. “I’m pretty sure the hundreds of thousands of your fans disagree.”

Jun forced himself to smile a little, but his thoughts were faraway. “I think this is in the Christian bible. One time I went to church with Bak and the pastor was preaching on it, that a prophet is respected everywhere but his hometown.”

“Crabs in a barrel,” Damian whispered.

It made no sense, but Damian looked too pensive and sad for Jun to bother him. But he had a phone now.

He pulled it out and typed the phrase into his search engine. A video and essay later, he had to agree; it was a phrase that fit some people he’d met in his life. Thankfully, not all. Not his brothers in 5N, not Gigi. Not Damian.

Damian

Damian jumped out of the SUV as soon as Cedric gave the all-clear signal.

It was time to get Jun wearing something more exciting than color-block sweaters.

They had driven north to the Magnificent Mile, the most upscale shopping district in the city.

The SUV would stay on standby in a nearby garage with their driver, but the area was completely walkable.

If not for the security implications, Damian would have sent the SUV home, but one could never discount the usefulness of a mobile enclosed space when dealing with reporters or threats.

Who knew how far Bak would go? Damian hadn’t just gotten Jun fully into his life and into his bed just to lose him again.

Jun craned his head back, looking up at the towers and billboards surrounding them. Curiosity was a good look on him.

Damian reached for his hand. “I’ve waited for this for years.”

“This?” Jun raised an eyebrow.

Damian squeezed Jun’s fingers. “Being out in public with you. Going shopping. Normal life.”

Jun’s eyes brightened. He leaned inward, his weight pressing against Damian’s chest. “I wish I could say the same.”

“I dreamed for both of us. You were busy surviving.” Damian touched the dark marks on Jun’s face.

“Seeing you at all was the dream.”

Damian wrapped Jun’s hand in both of his. “I have a place to show you.”

He led Jun into the indoor shopping tower and directly to the elevators. They could come back and look at some of the clothing shops. This was one mission that had to be completed first.

The toy shop was everything Damian remembered—displays packed with action figures, Lego sets, dolls, and stuffed animals.

Jun gave Damian a look. “I thought we were shopping.”

“We are.” Damian wrapped an arm around Jun’s waist, pulling him inside. “I’m buying you a stuffed animal.”

Jun’s stepped faltered. “You’re…a what…?”

Damian ignored his stuttering. “What do you like? Bears? Dragons? Dinos?”

Jun didn’t move. Damian looked back. Jun stood between two displays, blinking back tears. “You’re really…”

“You seemed to like Bear last night.”

Jun rubbed his face with the back of his hand. “You know I can never…I…”

Damian wrapped his arms around Jun. “Let me? Please?”

Jun threw his arms around Damian. He didn’t seem to be able to speak. Damian just held him until he heard a faint “Yes, okay.”

Jun pulled himself together and rubbed at his eyes again with the back of his wrist. “What size?”

“Something ridiculous. Something you’d normally never let yourself have.”

Jun laughed, a small wet sound. He had to wipe his face again. “Remember, you asked for this.”

Damian grinned. Oh, Jun, you have no idea.

Jun ventured down the aisles. He perused the entire store, looking above and below at the racks, picking up rabbits, dragons, teddy bears, more teddy bears, stuffed lions, and foxes.

Damian made note of the ones he touched more than once and grabbed a few of them, slipping them to Cedric, who passed them to a clerk to hide behind the counter.

Only when Jun had circled the entire store did he turn back and pick up a massive realistic tan horse with a brown mane and tail and matching hooves.

It had to be at least four feet high and just as long.

It was soft but with enough structure it didn’t flop around.

Arms wrapped all the way around the horse, Jun announced. “This is Téméraire.”

“French for reckless?”

Jun giggled. “Yes.”

“Well, then, let’s pay for Téméraire and send him home. I don’t think we can really go shopping with him tagging along.”

Jun pulled a face. “Probably not.”

They left the store without bags, the clerk discretely adding Téméraire to the running total of what Damian had already sent up to the counter. Outside in the main mall, Jun reached for Damian’s hand. “I’ll never get that on a plane.”

“Depends on the plane.” Damian pointed to some shops ahead. “Ready to be tormented?”

“Tormented?”

“Ask Collin and Ash. I have a thing for clothes.”

“You do?” Jun looked over Damian’s outfit. He’d dressed down for the day in dark-blue slacks and a deep-brown knee-length trench coat with a matching leather hat with a brim.

“I like dressing the people in my life. It’s my creative outlet. Like sculpture.”