Damon promptly covered his face with his arms before Jun could look at him. Oh God. Please Jun. Say nothing, Damon prayed in his head. Not here. Not now.

He couldn't imagine sweet boy Jun having a bad reaction, but he'd rather not explain what was going on between his legs right this very moment. And yet, he found himself completely incapable of moving his hands away from his face to tell Jun that he'd like to go home right now, please and thank you. He waited, like a coward, for something to happen.

Three full minutes passed with no sound from Jun. Damon was beginning to worry.

You know, maybe Jun didn't even know something was wrong. Sure, Jun's apparently had sex before, but who knows if he knew what a normal amount of slick production looked like? Maybe he was just staring at Damon, confused about why he was hiding?

Damon was slightly comforted at the thought, and slowly moved his arms away in increments. His eyes teared up a bit with the exposure to sunlight.

After blinking half a dozen times, Damon's vision cleared, and he was able to properly look at Jun. What he saw was... alarming?

The fingers that Jun had accidentally touched Damon's slick with were already in Jun's mouth, but Jun wasn't even focusing on that. Instead, he had bent all the way down until his face was almost touching the ground to stare between Damon's legs like he had just discovered the goddamn eighth world wonder. His pupils were fully dilated, and when he noticed Damon finally looking at him, his other hand, still around Damon's thigh, clenched down so hard Damon could almost feel it in the bone.

Damon winced and - obviously crazed from hormones and confused lust - blurted, "Did you just horny-grip me?"

Jun didn't even blink, either uncomprehending or truly too horny to focus on anything. Damon forced himself to keep eye contact with Jun, if only to keep him from looking down there anymore. Despite Jun's grip on him, Damon covertly started to slide his legs closed, the blush already high on his cheeks deepening with the shame of basically spreading his legs like a whore in public. God, what was wrong with him?

Oh right. It was Jun that opened his legs in the first place. When Damon looked back on this moment later, he blamed everything that happened next on his awful, evil, omega hindbrain.

First, he blurted out, once again, the first thing that came to mind, despite it making no sense. He pointed a trembling finger at Jun, who was still unapologetically wedged between Damon's thighs, and said "It's your fault if people think I'm a whore."

Jun's fingers finally left his mouth, shiny with spit. His eyes lit up at Damon's comment, weirdly, and his purring – which had started up again at some point – increased to a deep rumble from Jun's chest.

And, of course, Jun's delight absolutely set Damon off. He scowled and aimed the fiercest glare he had available to him at the moment at Jun. "What? What are you so happy about?"

Jun pretty much full body wriggled with the force of his excitement like a little wolf pup about to playfully pounce on its litter mates. Damon restrained the urge to kick him away with a foot to Jun's forehead. He really should have. They were still in. The. Park. Thankfully, the sound of children playing on the structures down the hill had died off some time ago as their parents took them home. The sky was considerably darker than it had been when they'd arrived. Still, Damon would rather go home and finish...whatever this was.

Jun was still purring, a boyish delight highlighting his features.

"Ready for me," he murmured, gaze once again affixed to Damon's backside. Once again, it was just because it was Jun saying it that it was so goddamn hot. If Malachi said that to Damon, Damon would have burst out laughing. Because it was Jun – simple, sweet, honest Jun – Damon's ovaries just about exploded. He said it with no intent to seduce.

Damon spluttered and slapped his arms over his face again automatically. No. He can't. He can't say those things with a straight face. Is there a law against this? There should be.

Damon's scent must have gotten a lot sweeter all of a sudden because Jun's purring suddenly turned up a notch, his own scent curling around Damon, not suppressing – luring. As an alpha, though, Jun's scent could definitely hold Damon in place as strongly as iron chains. He chose not to, of course, because that would be impolite, but in that moment Damon desperately, desperately wanted to be suppressed.

He huffed out an overwhelmed breath. Alright. First things first. Figure out how to convince Jun to take him back home. And maybe wrap the blanket around his waist so that no one on the way would see his horrendous slick stain.

"Jun," Damon began, voice trembling. "Take me home. We're still in public."

Jun definitely was not as concerned as Damon. He lowered his head again to look at the extent of Damon's slick. Damon didn't know if he imagined feeling the ghosting of fingers over the bottom curve of his ass, sliding in the slick dampening his jeans. He hummed contemplatively.

"I thought you said you were my whore? Does it matter if we're in public?"

Damon coughed, choking on his own spit. Wha- who – is this even still Jun? Did he switch bodies with someone else when Damon wasn't paying attention? And when did he say he was Jun's whore?

...Why did he suddenly have the urge to open his legs wider?

He was burning, all over. He was overwhelmed. And his omega brain was – quite unhelpfully – murmuring hell yes, I'm your whore.

Thankfully, Jun seemed to sense that he was physically incapable of responding and backed off, but his gaze kept darting back to Damon's legs. Before Damon managed to get his muscles working again, Jun had already read his mind and grabbed a corner of the top blanket to toss it over Damon's lap. Damon sighed in relief and sat up, some of the blood flushing his face draining away. He quickly tied the blanket around his waist and stood up with only a slight trembling. Nevertheless, Jun packed up everything else and offered his arm for Damon to hang onto as they left the park.

Damon kept his head down the whole way, essentially letting Jun lead him. He couldn't bear to meet anyone's eyes. He was sure something would give away what they had been doing – if not the extremely conspicuous blanket around his waist, then certainly the not-yet dissipated pheromones hanging around them would be like a bright neon sign above their heads. Jun was, of course, blissfully unconcerned, practically skipping back to Damon's house. Well, skipping for Jun was just normal walking, but it was suspiciously more peppy than usual.

Once they were finally past the threshold of Damon's house, Damon expected Jun would have gotten ahold of himself and would say goodnight.

Damon underestimated how truly delighted Jun would be about his little discovery of Damon's condition. When Damon moved into the living room, Jun followed closely, something dark in his gaze. It was shocking enough to see that Damon gaped at Jun with an open mouth.

"Can I see?" Jun asked, his tone light despite still carrying that dark intensity in his eyes.

"...See what?" Damon knew exactly what Jun wanted to see. He didn't know what was so exciting about seeing the mess Damon had made of his pants. He hoped he was wrong.

Jun blinked at him and didn't answer, simply waiting expectantly, his big, gentle dog energy still very much intact.

Damon was going to regret this.