***

Still in a state of confusion – not to mention coming down from his own orgasm, which, embarrassingly, had come about with exactly zero actual stimulation to his own dick – Damon bounced on the bed, landing on his back and staring at the ceiling, wondering if that was actually his body he was feeling or if he'd left it behind somewhere.

With the blood rushing back to his knees with little pin pricks, Damon regained some awareness. His first thought was that Jun was probably about to screw him senseless. Why else would he chuck Damon onto his bed like a ragdoll? Plus, Jun was in heat. No way one orgasm was going to be enough to calm him for longer than five minutes. The werewolf refractory period – specifically, the alpha in heat refractory period – was almost nonexistent.

But, the longer Damon waited there, defenselessly on his back, waiting to be ravaged like a dime-store romance maiden, the longer Jun took to come back into his line of sight. Curious (a little impatient to be fucked within an inch of his life) Damon raised his head to see what was going on. Jun was no longer even on the bed – he was at the side of the room, digging around for something. When he turned around, Damon saw that Jun had a clean washcloth and the glass of water off his nightstand.

Damon remembered how Jun took care of him after almost eating him out at his house a while ago. Damon's impatience quickly softened into something much warmer. Jun's cock was also safely tucked back into his pants, so Damon was less likely to start frothing at the mouth to get it back inside him somewhere. Anywhere. The temptation was thankfully (sadly) gone.

Except, because Damon's mind was moving slower than usual, he didn't realize what Jun intended to do until the other had crawled up on the bed and started tugging at the waistband of Damon's fancy dress pants. In an echo of earlier, Damon's hands flew down and caught Jun's to stop him. Jun blinked at him innocently, the washcloth on the bed beside him, and Damon finally put the pieces together.

Jun knew he'd come in his pants. How embarrassing, though Damon did wonder how he'd managed to notice it when his dick was in Damon's mouth. That was bound to be distracting, and Damon hadn't done anything obvious to indicate that it happened. Jun was just scarily observant, apparently. All this because Damon hadn't had the foresight to shower before coming over.

Well...maybe it wasn't so bad. If the clear pleasure surrounding Jun as he continued in his task of ridding Damon of his clothes was anything to go by, maybe things were better off this way. Damon went limp and tried not to think about it as Jun made sure he was comfortable.

So...was he not planning to fuck Damon? Something within Damon, that small voice that had absolutely reveled in what had just happened, turned petulant. It whined – and Damon suddenly knew, this was the part of himself that conjured those filthy images in the forest, the source of all his intrusive thoughts about wanting to be held down and forced to take whatever Jun saw fit to give.

That part of him was upset. It wanted Jun's cum in all available holes, wanted to be bred. Wanted Jun to grab him by the throat again and tell him he was pretty when he was speared on a cock.

It was wretched and it was dirty, but as Damon laid there, letting Jun treat him so tenderly, taking the time to clean Damon up before taking care of his own needs, he wondered just when he'd become aware that it was there.

It was so long ago already, but Damon couldn't remember thinking anything so raunchy with Malachi, nor with anyone else he'd thought he could become attracted to.

Whatever this part of him was...it reacted to Jun like a volatile chemical reaction. And only to Jun.

Jun finished cleaning Damon up and tossed the rag aside before sliding a hand under Damon's head, lifting him up slightly so he could press the glass of water to Damon's lips. He drank like he'd been parched for days, only then realizing how sore his throat was. When the glass was empty, Damon finally felt a little more clear headed and started to sit up –

Only to have Jun press him right back down with a firm hand on his chest. Damon didn't resist. He didn't think he could.

Despite every nerve ending in Damon's body saying that he should get Jun to screw him somehow, Damon firmly pressed his lips closed and fought back against that part of himself, even when all Jun did was lay down next to Damon and pull him into his arms. Jun tucked Damon's head into his chest, tangling their limbs together and running his hand over Damon's side soothingly, just like he had in the forest when he lost control.

He was purring, by the way. Had been the whole time.

Damon knew, or felt, deep inside, that he was definitely capable of doing what that inner part of him wanted and goading Jun into doing him until he couldn't walk. He could whine and writhe around and tease Jun. He could place a thousand little casual touches all over his and Jun's skin until Jun found out what Damon wanted and gave it to him without Damon ever having to ask, because asking would always be too direct, too bold for him to do. He could roll around restlessly in Jun's hold until Jun got fed up and fucked him until he passed out just to keep him still.

Damon suddenly knew that he could do those things. That's what that secret part of him could do.

Damon was burning. His skin was on fire with the force of his blush, and he was thankful Jun's big chest was there for Damon to hide his face in and pretend he wasn't so overwhelmed with the sheer desire to please Jun that he was choking with it.

Maybe Damon really couldn't be heat partners with Jun. Because that part of him – he would call it the Other Damon – would make itself known, one way or another.

And then Jun would know about it. What if...what if Jun didn't like the Other Damon? The Other Damon was too intense. Too intense for Damon himself, so how could he expect Jun to be okay with how truly...slutty the Other Damon actually was? True, Jun hadn't seemed to mind thus far, but there were darker things that the Other Damon desired. Things Damon wasn't quite ready to confront. And Damon knew that it wasn't really a problem of Jun not being capable of giving Damon what he needed – it was a question of whether or not Jun would want to.

Damon breathed in Jun's scent and tried to calm down. Speaking of heat partner stuff, Damon should inform the pack doctor of what they were intending to do so that when Jun really did lapse out of heat briefly, he would have all the necessary paperwork ready for them.

Even if Damon was currently struggling to figure out whether or not he could corral the Other Damon, he couldn't take away his offer of being Jun's heat partner. Not only was it unnecessarily cruel, if Damon was honest with himself, he didn't want to break it off either. Plus, if he told the pack doctor that he was intending to only be with the one alpha, he could give him and Jun an exclusivity agreement to sign as well, which would prevent any issues with Malachi trying to have Damon as a heat partner as well. Not that Malachi would ever get to do such a thing when both Damon and Jun were against it, but still. Damon would like to have the reassurance.

There was a tentative knock on the door. Damon blanched. He'd completely forgotten there were three other people in the apartment with supernatural hearing.

Well, fuck.

Jun raised his head to glare at the door. Damon couldn't bring himself to do the same, firmly hiding in Jun's chest like it could protect him from having to confront the fact that not only had his best friend almost seen him get mounted once before, now he'd heard him giving a blow job –

Kill him. That's what Damon wanted. He wanted to be dead.

Thankfully, Mark quickly relayed his message through the door. "Uh, Damon?" he cleared his throat awkwardly and Damon winced. "Do you not have your phone on you or something?" Eh, it had probably died. It was at 10 percent when Damon left for the gala earlier. "Your parents called me saying they couldn't get through to you."

Damon stiffened at the mention of his parents.

And of course, Mark had to drive the nail right into Damon's skull. "They said that they had to talk to you. Something about the gala."

...Shit.