Page 16 of Damian & Jun, Episodes 9-12 (The Residency Boys #8)

He drew his fingers out slowly, reaching up to the deepest shelf.

Richard had been prescient to build so many hiding places.

He needed to change the bindings on Jun’s arms, but he wasn’t going to risk Jun’s headspace moving.

The butt plug brushed his fingers. Useful but perhaps not sufficient.

He wrapped his fingers around the speculum instead.

Spreading lube over the prongs, he sank the prongs inside his boy and eased them apart.

Jun’s breath stopped.

“Breathe, pet.”

Jun’s chest rose and fell fast twice, then went back down to his normal temper.

Damian stroked his back and hip, offering reassurance.

WhenJun was pliant again, he adjusted the aperture, spreading Jun’s hole slowly.

It was barely open, not nearly wide enough for Damian’s cock, but the sensation was more important than the width.

The experience of being spread open was a mind bender.

Damian fished out a small flashlight and played it over Jun’s gaping channel. “So pink and soft inside.” He pushed his finger in, touching Jun inside.

Jun made a broken sound.

Damian moved to Jun’s head. Fingers on the leather straps, warm and sweat covered now, he unbuckled the muzzle, cupping Jun’s cheek with his palm as he pulled the gag from between his lips.

Jun’s lips and cheeks were wet with drool.

He wiped the moisture away, massaging Jun’s cheeks, rubbing his thumb over Jun’s pink, barely swollen lips.

Still holding Jun’s face, he reached for the mouth spreader.

The center was a rubber-coated O-ring. Pressing in on Jun’s cheeks, he forced Jun’s mouth open.

Jun didn’t struggle or even whine as Damian slotted the ring behind his teeth.

His tongue pressed against the foreign object, exploring it.

Damian dragged his finger down Jun’s tongue.

Jun gagged, involuntarily, but didn’t fight.

Careful of Jun’s hair, Damian strapped the mouth spreader in place, buckling it closed behind Jun’s head. Then he let Jun lay flat again.

It was a lot to take in, being opened from both ends. He went back to gently stroking his boy. Soon he was going to have to release his shoulders, but he wanted him deeply submissive, the fight gone, before he tried that.

Jun whimpered, the sound louder now, for all its softness. He wiggled on his stomach toward Damian, seeking his touch.

Jun

Damian’s hands on his skin anchored Jun to his alpha.

The overwhelm rolled through him, quieter now.

The further he fell, the quieter his head became, the more he fixated on Damian, his touch, his scent, his movements.

The rest of the world was beyond his awareness, barely a passing memory.

The cave wrapped around them, shielding them.

The rope held him. There was a place just beyond reach.

Reaching it required letting go, being Damian’s captured and subjugated prey.

He was captured, but subjugated? No. The instinct to fight, to watch, to be in control was hardwired.

Damian’s fingers squeezed his ass cheeks, first one then the other. His fingers played with whatever was holding his hole open, dipping inside.

An angry protest rolled through Jun.

“You don’t give in easily, do you, wolfling?” Damian murmured. “That’s all right. We can get you there. We’ll find the surrender.”

Would be easier if he could just give in like Collin. Fighting was exhausting.

Damian did something with the rope. He started to undo the tie that kept Jun’s forearms pressed together behind his back. Jun roused. Maybe he could get them under him.

He tried to draw them forward. One barely moved. The other flopped onto the cot.

Damian straightened one arm, then the other, hands moving down the muscles, rubbing them.

Jun tried again. There was something stopping him from pulling his hands too far.

The cuffs. Damian must have them leashed to something.

Pulling on his one anchored ankle, he pushed back, bending his legs and rising up on all fours.

He swayed. Drool ran from his open mouth.

His ass felt weird, and moving was frightening with something foreign and unforgiving inside.

He turned his head, seeking Damian. His alpha moved on his knees from Jun’s side to right in front of him.

He pushed up, guiding Jun to kneel up facing him.

It put slack on the rope tethering his wrists.

Damian had a clip. He brought Jun’s wrists together and linked them with one a couple of centimeters between the cuffs.

Jun tugged at them. His shoulders ached.

He dropped his hands into his lap, arms heavy.

Damian stroked Jun’s cheek. “Color, boy.”

Jun blinked dumbly at his alpha. Color? Was he supposed to be feeling like this? Was this part of the process? He wanted to throw himself into Damian, but he also wanted to run.

“Color, boy.” Damian clasped Jun’s wrists in both of his hands, raising up. The safety ball had fallen away. Jun gazed at his fingers.

Damian lowered Jun’s wrists and unbuckled the mouth spreader. He drew his fingers down Jun’s jaw, rubbing his face gently. He eased Jun’s mouth closed. From somewhere, he held a water bottle to Jun’s lips.

“Talk to me, wolfling.”

Jun swallowed, working his mouth.

“Still fighting me?” Damian’s voice was soft.

Jun nodded. A tear ran down his cheek. “Don’t want to.”

“We do whatever we need to do in this space.” Damian pressed a kiss to Jun’s forehead. “The question is whether you want to come back, be Jun, and try this later, knowing what we both know now, or do you want me to take you down all the way?”

Too many choices. Jun closed his eyes. Tomorrow had no guarantees.

Tomorrows were hoped for, not held in one’s hand.

And he wanted this. He wanted to find out who he was under Damian.

He wanted to reach that place of surrender and pleasure, of closeness.

What it was exactly, he couldn’t articulate, but he knew it was just there, just beyond.

He’d experienced enough to know that much.

He lifted his chin, gazing back at Damian.

“You’re being too gentle, alpha.”

“Am I?” Damian stroked Jun’s throat.

“You want my surrender, alpha, you have to take it. I won’t—-can’t—-give it to you. I can’t just lay there and give in, no matter how much you tie me up.”

And that, in all its starkness, was the truth. This was on Damian. Either he could be the predator that Jun sensed him or he would fail.

Damian

Damian cradled Jun’s face in his hands. Gods, he wished Richard was there. Richard would know how to take Jun from this place of uncertainty and fight and submit him without breaking him.

But if he called Richard in, if Richard was the answer, then Jun’s submission would be to Richard. Not to Damian.

Jun was his. Jun was asking this of him. This was the moment he learned if he was the dominant he hoped to be, the one Jun needed.

He’d started the day with a plan to have a fun chase and fuck, but now they were somewhere else, a liminal place between before and after where fates were made.

He’d messed up. There were too many barriers between them. He’d forgotten that as much as Jun was an animal, so was he. That was where he’d lost the thread. He didn’t need toys. He needed himself. That was how they’d always met, the two of them. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth. Air to air.

He ghosted his hand down Jun’s side. All the manuals he’d read said he should take Jun out of this moment, talk about it like rational adults, come back at a later date with a new plan. Fuck that. This wasn’t play, not anymore.

The speculum was warm from Jun’s body. He eased it out and set it to the side, then ran his hands up Jun’s back, over his shoulder blades, up his neck, threaded his fingers into his boy’s hair, tilted his head, and leaned in, breathing Jun in, nuzzling under his jaw, biting soft kisses down his neck to his collarbone.

“Don’t fight while I untie the rope. You could injure yourself.”

Jun leaned into him. Damian released the knot from Jun’s ankle.

Damian eased back. Jun was watching him, a glassy need in his eyes that had not been there a few moments before. Damian pushed his pants off his hips.

Naked together.

Damian knelt in front of his boy.

“This is winter,” Damian said. Even to his own ears, his voice was low and rough. “I can’t give you a forest to run in or a riverwalk. Only myself.”

Jun threw himself forward. Damian raised his arms to catch him. His boy rode him back to the ground, straddling him, gripping his head in his hands. He crushed their mouths together.

Wild.

Damian’s heart swelled. He gripped his boy back and bucked up into him.

Jun bit his lip. Damian growled. He rolled them to the side.

Jun didn’t give in, fighting for the upper hand.

They were going to bash themselves black and blue inside the small space.

Damian reached out blindly, finding the slats.

Jun broke away long enough to help, pushing the front of the cave open to the room. And then Jun was on him again.

Damian rolled them out into the floor. They were all skin and muscle and vying for control, lips pressed together, tongues foraging into one mouth, then the other. Muscles strained against muscles. Sweat slicked between them.

They wrestled in a tangle of limbs from one side of the room to the other. He pressed Jun up against the bed. They tore the comforter from the mattress, fell on it, half wrapped themselves in it, then rolled off of it.

Damian gripped Jun’s wrists in his hand. His boy undulated up against him, arching off the floor, fire in his eyes. Damian took in the full vision of him, stroking him from throat to groin. Jun thrashed. Damian gripped his balls. Jun threw his head back, his stomach heaving.

This was them. This was what they were. No toys, just skin.