Page 4 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 5-8
“A male Adonis Blue. Native to southern England.”
“Oh.” Jun held the clear resin up to the light, turning the paperweight this way and that, taking in the butterfly from every angle. He glanced at the desk and moved, instantly curious. “You have more.”
Damian shuffled papers and pens out of the way, showing seven more preserved butterflies. “What is this one?” Jun picked up the paperweight with a checkered-patterned butterfly.
“Glanville fritillary from Europe; this one came from France.”
“And this one?”
“Golden Opal from South Africa.”
Jun touched each and every paperweight. Damian named them off, one by one. Jun lined them up on the desk, staring down at them.
“I hope they didn’t suffer.”
“I hope so, too.”
Jun stepped onto the desk chair and lowered himself into the end of Damian’s bed. To say onto would have been a misnomer. His knees were practically engulfed in the mattress. He pointed at the wood sculptures on the walls. “Where are those from?”
“All over.” Damian crawled up on the bed behind Jun and lay on his side. Jun leaned back against his stomach, using him like a couch.
He pointed to each sculpture, giving their place of origin and the story of how it had come into his hands. Jun asked questions here and there, his voice slowly getting heavier and his words slower.
“How’s your stomach?” Damian asked between stories.
There was no answer. He looked down.
Jun was curled up like a puppy against his chest, mouth half open, eyes closed. He was beautiful. So trusting, asleep in his bed. Damian’s chest ached, feeling a need to expand to hold everything he was feeling.
He pulled a pillow down for himself and grabbed a loose blanket for both of them. Then he settled, careful not to disturb Jun, his body curled around the smaller fetal form.
They were sleeping in his bed after all. Forget the guest room.
Jun
Jun woke in the dark, his bladder aching. He was enveloped in something soft with a warm body behind him. It felt right. He tensed anyway. This was not his dorm or a hotel. His brain caught up. That hint of spice that was Damian’s scent. That softness was Damian’s bed. He was in The Residency. With Damian. He sagged into the endless pillow that passed as Damian’s mattress. As much as he wanted to stay and luxuriate in the “not there’ feeling of being somewhere better, he really needed to pee. He tucked his elbow underneath himself and tried to push up on his knees, careful of his injuries. As concerned as the doctor had been for internal bleeding and head trauma, he felt better than he’d expected. The bruising was ugly and tender, but he wasn’t in unbearable pain. Not like he’d been in when the police chief had first kicked him. That had been bright-white agony. The worst was if he moved wrong and reopened some of the cuts. That stung every time, bright and white behind the eyes.
Right now, even though he was comfy, he couldn’t move. The bed was too soft, and Damian was half on top of him, one of those beefy thighs wrapped around his hips. He tried to wiggle up. Damian rolled in closer, one of his arms looping over Jun’s waist and pulling him in.
Jun swallowed down an “eep”. Dang it, he really needed to pee, and Damian lying on him like this wasn’t helping.
It did feel nice even so. Like Damian was keeping his promise. He’d caught Jun, and now he wasn’t letting go. Maybe he was messed up in the head, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind one bit.
If Damian didn’t let go, though, he was going to have a problem all over the mattress, and no one was going to enjoy that.
Jun tapped Damian’s arm. “DaSu. DaSu.”
“Sh. Got you. Sleep, wolfling.”
“Wolfling?” Jun poked Damian harder this time. “DaSu, for real, I’m going to pee on your bed.”
“No.” Damian cuddled into Jun tight.
Jun squirmed. “I am not playing, DaSu. You will let me up, or we’re going to have a mess.”
Damian squeezed Jun tighter, making the wiggles stop. His hips moved, grinding his erection into Jun’s ass.
Good grief. He’d wanted that part of Damian hard and up against him for days now, but this was not the time. But with Damian on top of him and the bed so deep and soft, he couldn’t get purchase to move or even twist around. If he twisted that hard, he was going to hurt himself again or lose control of his bladder.
