Page 20 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 5-8 (The Residency Boys #7)

“Yes.”

“All right. I’ll do that.”

Jun ended the call and let out a long sigh.

“Glad that ball’s moving.” Jaewoong stretched and groaned. “My cat plushie collection isn’t going to buy itself.”

Geun pretended to throw something at him.

Su-jin play-smacked Jaewoong in the arm. “Ten is barely a collection.”

“It’s the beginning of a collection.”

Yohei groaned, shaking his head.

Jun smiled at them. They could all be facing economic ruin, but none of them were going to mention it.

He let the warmth of their loyalty fill him up; if the warmth was twined with cold fear of what could be and what was coming, he ignored it.

There was too much to be afraid of. He was going to stay here, in this moment, with his bandmates.

“Come on, let’s go practice. I have some new lyrics.

Su-jin, let’s see you hit the keyboard today and get a backtrack going.

We only have a few hours before Alice, Ash, and Dana get here. ”

“They’re coming up to hang out?” Jaewoong stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck.

“Ash is helping me with the website security,” Mi Hi explained. “And Alice and Dana are tagging along. Ellisandre is dropping them off, but they have business nearby.

“Dana!” Su-jin grinned. Jun had to smile, watching his maknae ’s face light up. Su-jin had a soft spot for kids.

Jun

Wednesday evening, Jun said good night to Mi Hi, Yoihei, Geun, Jaewoong and Su-jin a bit after ten and left them playing Monopoly: the Social Media edition , which was not a standard issue game board at all.

Dana and Alice had gone off to bed hours before, and Ash had fallen asleep on the couch.

Which left the Korean contingent plus Yohei still awake.

Jaewoong had printed out the game board using a fan image he found online as gag gift for Mi Hi and express shipped in Monopoly money and game pieces.

Mi Hi had insisted they play it for real as soon as she saw it.

They’d quickly run into the issue that most of the social media sites were US based and therefore meant little to nothing to them.

Geun, in his laconic way said, “change it” and the sticky notes had quickly made an appearance thereafter.

They’d taken so long modifying the board by voting on which social media apps should be swapped in and out that Jun hadn’t gotten to play.

He’d been entertained anyway. And it didn’t matter that he was missing out. Because he wasn’t. He was waiting for something else.

Someone else.

Which was why he was standing at the glass porch doors, watching headlights come up the drive.

It had been six days since he’d seen Damian. Raw need ached in his throat. While they’d been working all week, it had been ignorable, something set aside with long practice. Now on the precipice of relief, if only for a few hours, it consumed him.

He shoved his feet into his workout shoes as the lights got closer and pulled a fleece-lined, oversized hoodie on over his dark-fuchsia turtleneck, then checked his face in the mirror.

The bruises were still ugly. It had almost been almost two weeks since Bak had kidnapped him from the hotel.

Had it really been so recent? It felt longer.

So much change could not have possibly happened in so little time.

The entire saga of escaping the dorm at BBB3, calling Damian, meeting Richard and Collin, getting caught by Damian at the river, the press conference, the kidnapping, the escape, all of it—hardly felt real now. Those were the actions of someone else.

And yet they weren’t. Every time he wrote music and every time he watched himself dance in the mirror, he could see the changes. He was that man, the one who had done those things—survived those things, actions so far away from the civilized world.

The threat had been so real, so urgent, so clear. Now it was a war of lawyers and motions, court appeals and documents—people faraway arguing over reality.

The two worlds did not match as much as they were bound up in each other.

He shoved the thoughts away. Damian was here now. The SUV parked. No more waiting. He pulled open the door, cold air hitting his face, and sprinted across the carport.

Damian stepped around the front of the vehicle, bag in one hand. The driver backed the SUV down the drive.

Jun jumped, wrapping his arms and legs around Damian. “You came.”

Damian laughed as he caught him, that deep, barrel-ribbed sound. His bag hit the ground, and his arms came up and gripped Jun’s shoulders and waist. He kissed Jun on the neck. “Want to go for a run? Moon’s bright.”

Jun looked up, still clinging to Damian like a tree.

The moon was bright, and the air was cold but not too cold.

There was no snow on the ground. He dropped down so that he was standing again.

“Yes. Let me get a hat and gloves.” He looked Damian up and down.

His boyfriend was already dressed for the woods: heavy tactical pants, a thick pullover, and solid shoes.

There was a hat and gloves sticking out of his pocket.

“If you come inside, you’ll get mobbed and I’ll lose you.”

Damian laughed. He stroked his thumb along Jun’s cheek and leaned in, breathing against Jun’s cheek. “I’ll wait.”

Jun jogged back to the door and let himself inside as quietly as possible. He stealthed up to his room, threw on a pair of thermals under his cargo pants and turtleneck, then grabbed his hat, scarf, and gloves.

Back outside, Damian had put on his hat but not his gloves. Jun did the same, stuffing the gloves into his pocket but wrapping his scarf around his neck.

“You’re not cold?”

Damian held out his hand. “I’m wearing an under layer. Believe me, I’m warm. And moving will keep us warmer. You have layers on, too, right?”

“The ones you bought me.” Jun pulled up his shirt to show off the black thermals.

Damian smiled and held out his hand again.

Jun took it and let Damian lead him down the hill toward the barn and the pastures and padlocks.

There were no lights here, but the moon was so bright he could see everything he needed to see.

Damian knew the path well, even stepping around dips in the ground without looking down.

Damian pointed off to the right. “The trail starts on the other side of the barn.” He opened the gate to one of the fields, then took Jun’s hand again, and guided him across to another gate that opened into the forest. A lightly graveled trail started on the edge of the field and meandered as best it could into the trees under decaying leaves.

The forest was young, all regrowth after reckless deforestation.

Moonlight filtered through the empty branches, making the trail glow softly.

Damian let go of Jun’s hand and stretched, hands above his head, and then down, palms to the ground.

āiya ! Damian’s ass looked gorgeous, the fabric of his tactical pants pulled taut over both butt cheeks.

He couldn’t resist. That ass was round and firm and Alpha’s. Jun slapped it. A spark of danger ran through his stomach. He took off, running flat out down the trail, away from whatever retribution Damian was certainly going to exact.

Damian yelped, then growled. Jun dug his feet into the gravel, flying down the trail in the moonlight.

Laughter bubbled out of his throat. His eyes were adjusted now.

It wasn’t difficult to see where he was going.

He glanced back once. Damian was tilted in a runner’s charge, eyes forward, elbows bent and pumping.

Fuck! Alpha was hot when he was in pursuit. And double fuck, he did not want to be caught. Not yet. Maybe never.

Jun double-timed his pace, but he was not fast enough. A crack filled his ears and heat stung across his ass. Damian’s breath sounded in his ear.

Jun squawked. āiya, his man was fast!

“Run, wolfling.”So much promise, so much threat inside two words.

Jun ran, lungs dragging in cold air, laughter on his lips.

His feet found purchase on the trail, rising upward toward the crest of a hill.

And then they were over the hill, dropping down into a gulch.

He thudded over a wooden foot bridge above a creek.

The trail arced around up to the next rise, but there was an animal path straight up.

He went for it, leaving the trail. Behind him, Damian shouted.

Jun gritted his teeth. It was all in the speed.

As long as he was moving forward fast enough, he didn’t need to be balanced on any particular piece of ground.

He only had to move. Up and up. He tap-danced from rock to tree root to rock again, grabbing the trunk of a sleeping oak as he passed for extra lift.

Several strides ahead of Damian, he hit the top of the hill on the trail again.

A single glance back, that was all he dared.

Damian was a dogged wolf, shoulders pumping, his breaths white puffs in the cold air.

Damian was his. Damian was safe. And yet…the fear and thrill of being chased, the fear of being run down from behind, shot through him again. He plunged onward. Up to the top of the hill.

The trail turned left into a raised area, the ground flatter, the trail twisting back and forth between clusters of trees. They were taller here, old. Some of them were two or three times the radius of a man. Their branches arched overhead higher and thicker, the canopy layered many times over.

Damian’s running steps echoed behind him.

So much fear. Clean fear. Thrill. Joy. Hot on the inside, cold on the outside, and alive. So utterly alive, feet flying over a path that had turned entirely to mulch and pine needles, wind-burn on his face.

The moonlight was almost gone, just a vague glow, but still he could see. His eyes had fully adjusted. The ground was solid.

Solid but corded with roots.

His foot caught. He stumbled and righted himself, but it was enough. Just enough.