Page 97 of Damian & Jun: Episodes 5-8
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.
Aiya! 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. Aiya, 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.
