Episode 13 #9
He broke off the stem part and peeled the banana back to the point it entered him. Then he reached for the rope and pulled.
Collin’s arms drew upward, forcing him forward on his knees, but also suspending him so that he couldn’t fall. Jun glanced towards Damian. Was he doing this right?
Damian came around the table, adjusting Collin’s knees and gesturing for Jun to take the rope up a little further, then he stepped back, just barely, eyes smoldering.
Jun’s hand shook as he reached for the basket again. The air was oppressive with three aroused doms watching him. Collin panted, his cock hard beneath him. With his knees spread and his chest lifted, it was easy to see his need.
Only a few more steps.
Jun pulled the napkin fully away from the basket, the bottom was a container holding everything for a banana split: nuts, candied cherries, liquid caramel, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. He wasn’t going to be around for when émeric dug the ice cream out of the small fridge across the room.
He poured the syrup over Collin’s shoulders, making him gasp.
It flowed over his shoulders and dripped in two lines down either side of his neck to the table.
He did the same below Collin’s arms, only small portions, but enough.
His hands were still shaking. It was time for someone else to take over, soon. But he had to finish.
Caramel was next. It was warm to touch and in a shallow bowl. He held it in his hands and reached under Collin, swirling Collin’s balls in the concoction.
Collin mewed. “What—what are you doing?”
“Making you a dessert,” Jun said. His voice was husky, almost hoarse. “Don’t your doms look hungry?”
Collin groaned.
Jun tipped the bowl over the peeled end of the banana, drizzling out more caramel, then setting the rest aside. The whipped cream was also in a bowl, just larger. He scooped out handfuls, dropping them in the chocolate on Collin’s back.
“Open your hands.”
Collin obeyed.
Jun filled each palm with whipped cream. It would never last. Everything was already melting and running, but he only needed a moment.
He set a cherry on top of the mounds of cream in each of Collin’s palms, and slid away, crouching on the table.
“All yours,” he said, casting a look at émeric. The dark Frenchman looked feral, Richard no better.
Damian was already moving towards him, deeper into the corner. Just as well.
Jun ran the two strides it took to cross the table towards the door and leapt, running for the Den.
He didn’t dare look back. Damian was already after him.
The doorway flew by him and he flung himself at the cave.
He never made it. His Alpha grabbed him from behind, taking them both to the rug.
He couldn’t see anything but carpet. Damian straddled him, breathing hard.
Jun struggled and Damian’s knees tightened.
He was making quick work of his shirt, then his pants, holding Jun down as he worked his way out of them.
And then there was a stiff, hot slick cock sliding into him. Someone was screaming and it was probably him. He was being fucked across the rug, his hole already tender from use, his just spent cock being rubbed into the carpet.
Alpha jerked him up on his knees, a beautiful mercy and slammed back into him, grinding Jun home, onto his cock, their hips pressed together, then, then there was liquid heat spilling inside of him.
“You, Gang Junseo, are everything,” Damian gasped.
Damian
It was a long time before Damian felt he could move.
It was as if he had emptied his life into Jun’s innermost bowels.
His boy seemed un-inclined to do more than lie there and recover.
But in time, kneeling was no longer comfortable.
Damian drew out and rolled onto his back, bringing Jun with him.
They needed to wash. They needed a bed. They needed water.
But not just yet. He pried his eyes open, checking Jun.
His beautiful boy, his precious prey, gazed back at him, eyes fluttering, a fucked out, exhausted look in his features.
He took one of Jun’s hands and put it to his mouth, licking caramel and chocolate from his fingers. “Dessert.”
Jun laughed. And then Damian laughed. They lay on the floor, rolling with mirth, all the emotions, the intensity bubbling through them.
Eventually, he found the strength to sit up, then stand.
He dragged Jun to his feet. His boy was swaying, and there were things happening tomorrow, though what all it would be was unknown.
“Shower. Bed.”
Jun yawned, leaning towards him. Damian took some of his weight, wrapping an arm around him. “Come on.”
He wasn’t a religious man, but he wanted to go leave gifts of gratitude somewhere, to some deity, for this absolute gift in his arms.
They were barely out of the shower before there was a knock on the door. Damian called out, “Come in,” and Richard entered, wrapped in a robe.
“You’re too far away,” he said. He looked between Damian and Jun. “You’re both welcome in the bed, or the smaller bed.” He paused, then went on, “I think Collin needs it, and perhaps…take your time together. Come if you are willing.”
He inclined his head and disappeared.
Damian looked towards Jun, who was looking at him. “Would you be alright, sleeping with them?”
“That’s what you did before, right?”
Damian nodded.
Jun slid his hand into Damian’s. “Then yes.”
Richard, émeric, and Collin were all in the big bed.
Collin was on his back. He sat up, looking to Jun as soon as they entered.
Jun went, as if drawn by a magnet, not giving the second bed even a glance but climbing over the covers and sliding in between émeric and Collin.
Damian smiled to himself and went to Richard, climbing in beside him.
Richard wrapped an arm around him, pulling in and kissing him. “Pup.”
Damian hugged Richard back. He looked over. émeric was wrapped around Jun’s back, and Collin and Jun were facing one other, already tangled up in each other.
“Other side,” Richard said. “Humor me. I need all my boys in the middle.”
Damian’s cheeks prickle with what might have been a blush. He crawled over Richard and settled against Collin. Jun reached out, pulling him in, and then Richard curled around Damian’s back, reaching over them all to take émeric’s hand.
Hopefully they’d all drank enough water, because the bed was already warm from so many bodies.
They’d slept early, and they woke early, all except for Collin and Jun. émeric stayed to watch over them and Damian got up with Richard to put the house to rights for their visitors.
“I can’t remember the last time anyone ever visited through this door,” Damian said, checking that the emergency exit leading from the Den was unlocked and open.
Richard was picking up towels and shook his head. “Likely never. Too many stairs.”
Damian made the bed. There was one entirely unexpected drawback of taking this room for their living quarters: strangers were now going to be walking through his and Jun’s bedroom.
Richard carted off the laundry. There were chocolate stains on the carpet, and dried cum.
Damian fetched the wet vac and made quick work of them, then handed off the machine to Richard to spot check the living room before going into the playroom to scrub the table.
Physical work was soothing. It helped limber up the muscles he had strained wrestling with Jun the day before, and it took his mind off the minutes ticking away until a potential international criminal entered his home.
Richard started eggs; Damian made milk tea with tapioca pearls and coffee. Everyone could use the boost.
émeric herded Collin and Jun into the kitchen for breakfast. The bruise on Jun’s neck was dark and large.
Damian reminded himself to check Jun thoroughly again later in the day, even though he had done it only ten hours before when they were showering.
Collin had some marks of his own, perhaps where his Master and his Sir had sucked the caramel and chocolate from his skin.
They ate in silence, arms and hands brushing up against each other more than necessary, their bodies speaking for them. And then it was time.
Richard led the way down the hall to the Den. They moved the couches and chairs around to face the door.
Then there was nothing to do but wait.
Jun curled up on the couch next to Damian and rested his head on his shoulder. If he had to wait for every tense moment like this, surrounded by his family with Jun leaning against him, he could handle many more of them.
There were footsteps in the stairwell. The door opened, and Ellisandre strode in, black full-length coat flapping around the ankles of their knee-high boots, a black faux fur hat on their head.
Damian stood on instinct, the rest of the Residency also rising.
Behind Ellisandre came the man Damian had seen once before in his office, long pale hair hanging loose from a ponytail held high on his head, also dressed in black.
A third figure stepped out after, staying close. He wore a cloth mask over his face, like one did in many East Asian countries if one was sick. He was slender with broad shoulders and his eyes were lowered under the edge of his black winter beanie.
Ellisandre flung off their coat, dropping it over the back of the closest empty chair. They gestured towards each member of the Residency by turn. “Richard, émeric, Damian, Jun, Collin, meet Sevastyan. Sevastyan, the Residency. I know you’ve met some of them already.”
Sevastyan looked perhaps more tense and reserved than when they had faced each other in Damian’s office.
Richard held out his hand, stepping forward. “Ellisandre vouched for you. Who’s with you?”
Sevastyan didn’t look back at his shadow, standing almost directly behind him. “Mine.”
Richard nodded. He glanced at Ellisandre. “So what are we discussing?”
Ellisandre threw themselves into a seat.
“Murder charges, and how to make them go away.” They looked towards Jun.
“The police chief’s wife’s family are insisting on an arrest and a trial.
A request for the U.S. to detain and hand you an order for extradition is in the works. It will go through, unless we stop it.”
Damian moved in front of Jun instinctively. They could try. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch Jun dragged away a second time. If they had to go on the run, so be it. There were places they could hide.
Jun
Extradition. Charges. Murder.
Just words, but they rang inside Jun’s head and flooded his veins with ice water. His hands curled into fists. A sense of unreality slid over him.
These were words that should be more frightening, and he was frightened.
They just weren’t hitting like he knew they should.
There was a glass wall between him and them.
He stared at them the way someone stared at a lion if there was nothing else to stare at, and the lion couldn’t quite reach, but one couldn’t quite get away.
A warm hand slid into his and the world came back into focus.
Damian. And Collin. They were right beside him, and he could breathe again, could see everyone’s faces.
Seeing Sevastyan, having a name for the face, was odd, like waking up to a dream that had become material.
The icy winds of winter blew against his skin and he could smell the scent of lacquer and wood burning the way they had that day he had first met Sevastyan
Memory. It was all memory. He was wrapped in it, could feel it in the present even though it was the past, but it wasn’t engulfing, not dragging him under, not with Damian holding his hand and Collin right there and Richard and émeric spread out between him and Sevastyan and Ellisandre. He could live with that.
“There are more diplomatic ways of saying all that,” Sevastyan was saying, glaring at Ellisandre.
Ellisandre waved him off. “And not as direct. What, did you want to have tea, pretend we’re all friends for ten minutes and then tap dance around the subject?”
Sevastyan frowned. “You’re being casual, and callous.”
Ellisandre preened. “I’m being direct— sit —Richard prefers directness, and Damian has the head for it.”
Sevastyan cast a glance towards Jun and moved to the other empty chair across from Ellisandre. He sat and his silent, masked companion moved with him, kneeling on the floor beside the chair. He laid his hands in his lap and lowered his eyes.
“I believe you were the one who was direct on the phone,” émeric said in his soft, dangerous way.
Sevastyan’s lips thinned. He stared at Ellisandre.
Jun ignored them. There was something there in the figure kneeling at Sevastyan’s side. They drew him. He sat forward, looking at the silent man, or at least he sensed they were male. It was the hands, the way they lay against the man’s black slacks, the lines.
“Ellisandre?” Richard said, steepling his fingers.
Jun stood. His belly trembled. Was he right? Was his life criss-crossing itself, the timelines tangling?
He went to his knees in front of the silent man. The room was still around them. His vision blurred everything out except for the person in front of him. He lifted his hand towards the mask. They raised their eyes.
That was all he needed. The mask could have stayed and he would have had his answer, but his hand was already there, unhooking the string from behind their ear.
The fabric came away in Jun’s hand. Rei stared back at him.
Older. Of course he was older. It had been years.
The right side of his face was a web of burns, the skin stretched and white in latticed lines.
His eyes were the same, deep, soft brown, full lashes, his brows dark arched wings and his mouth a little too large for the slanted planes of his cheeks. Exquisitely alive, breathing. There.
“Rei.” Was it hope or a prayer, or both, the name that left Jun on a breath?
“Junseo.”
Jun laughed. What else could he do? This was Rei.
“You disappeared.”
Rei looked up towards Sevastyan, so like Collin to Richard. It was like that. Rei looked back at Jun, then dropped his gaze, his fingers stirring against the fabric of his pants. “I think you know…the why. And the how.”
“I think so, too.”
Jun lifted his hand, pausing just a centimeter from Rei’s unmarred cheek. Rei tilted his head, accepting the touch for only a moment.
“I want to make a deal,” Sevastyan said. “Rei’s life for Junseo’s.”