Work Text:
The first time is an accident.
Xie Lian finds himself sitting in a nest of blankets and pillows, his back pressed against the ornate headboard of their bed. Hua Cheng is curled up in his lap, sucking absently at his nipples. This, in itself, is not unusual. With Hua Cheng’s oral fixation and Xie Lian’s, er, sensitivities, he finds his chest very well-loved. It’s already covered in blooming bitemarks and bruises—they’ve both orgasmed twice over, and Hua Cheng’s teeth and tongue have become gentle, soothing things.
That’s the unusual part.
It’s not that Hua Cheng is never gentle with things like this—it’s simply that he only does it as a means to rile Xie Lian up. Right now, his eye is lidded lazily and his body is loose. There’s no mischievousness to him; he seems well and truly sated. So why, Xie Lian has to wonder, is he still…?
Then Hua Cheng’s tongue swipes over his areola, warm and wet, and Xie Lian sighs softly as he decides it doesn’t really matter. It’s nice. Even without being a means to an end, it’s nice. Hua Cheng is soft and sweet against him, suckling gently as Xie Lian pets his hair. He’s heavy, real and alive and safe. Xie Lian can keep him safe, like this. Xie Lian can care for him so easily.
His poor Hua Cheng has suffered so much throughout his life, after all. To care for him like this is a privilege very few can claim. His mother might have held him this way, but...after that, who? No one, Xie Lian thinks, and kisses the top of Hua Cheng’s head gently. No one has held him like this in a very long time. He suckles the way puppies separated from their mothers too early do—often and insistent, like he’s afraid he’s going to be dragged away again.
“Gege?” Hua Cheng murmurs, peeking up at him. The muscles of his back ripple as he moves, drawn tight over his ribs and spines—so thin, so thin. His true form is a beautiful, damaged thing.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says, smiling warmly and pushing hair away from his husband’s face.
Seemingly content with this acknowledgement, Hua Cheng burrows back into his chest. His scent is soft and flush with happiness, the usual sweet maple of him overlaid with the salt of sex. Mine, Xie Lian thinks adoringly, and leans down to scentmark him. My pretty husband, my mate, my alpha.
Hua Cheng offers him a warbling purr in response, his hands kneading Xie Lian’s sides as he suckles. Xie Lian’s chest aches—with love or with sorrow, he’s not sure—and he hugs Hua Cheng’s head to him. Hua Cheng makes a smooshed, content sound and nibbles gently on a nipple. It stings. Xie Lian supposes he must be overstimulated by now, his nipples sore and puffy from the abuses Hua Cheng has put them through; a sense of tingling soreness spreads through the whole of his chest again. He laces his fingers through his husband’s hair, prepared to pull him away, but before he can—
“Gege?” Hua Cheng sputters, reeling back and licking his lips urgently. “What’s—?”
Xie Lian blinks at him. There’s something white dribbling down his chin. He reaches forward, swiping it off with his thumb—it’s warm and thin, like—like—
“Milk?” Xie Lian says, blinking hard. “San Lang, why is there—?”
They both look down at the same time, and Xie Lian flinches in alarm. He’s leaking—?!
“Did gege mean to do that?” Hua Cheng wonders, as Xie Lian dabs frantically at his nipples with a nearby sheet.
“I didn’t mean to!” Xie Lian cries, embarrassment scorching his cheeks as he keeps leaking. He reaches desperately for his spiritual energy, quickly rearranging his chest into something less productive. “San Lang, I’m so sorry! I would never do something like that without asking first. I didn’t even realize what was happening, I just thought—”
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Hua Cheng soothes, easing the wet sheet out of Xie Lian’s hands and replacing it with a dry blanket. “I really don’t mind it. This believer will gladly accept any offering from His Highness—I’m only sorry that you didn’t enjoy it.”
“I—I didn’t say that,” Xie Lian says, flustered, and they both stare at each other. “I mean! San Lang, I mean—!”
“Did gege like it?” Hua Cheng asks, cocking his head.
“Did San Lang like it?”
A slow, wolfish grin spreads across Hua Cheng’s face. “I loved it.” Then, his smile dimming some, he adds, “But, if it makes gege uncomfortable, I want nothing to do with it.”
“I was uncomfortable,” Xie Lian admits, and Hua Cheng leans forward attentively, “but only because I didn’t know what was happening. It startled me. If I knew that was what was going to happen, then, maybe…”
“We could do it again?” Hua Cheng suggests, sounding unusually hopeful. “This one really liked it a lot.”
“As like a—a sex thing?”
“It could be a sex thing.”
“Does San Lang want it to be?”
“To be honest, it…” Hua Cheng rubs the back of his neck. “It didn’t feel like that. It felt like—well, it doesn’t really matter. Does gege want it to be a sex thing?”
“It does matter,” Xie Lian says firmly, despite the burning in his cheeks and ears. Even after all this time, it still isn’t easy to be so straightforward about such matters! “It didn’t feel like a sex thing to me, either. I mean, it definitely could be, but at the time I—I just wanted to take care of San Lang. I think that might have been what triggered it.”
“Oh.” A pink blush creeps across the bridge of Hua Cheng’s nose, and he ducks his head. Shyly, he admits, “That’s how I felt too. It made me feel safe, and happy.”
Xie Lian leans forward, hooking his fingers beneath Hua Cheng’s chin and urging it up for a kiss. “San Lang is so brave, telling me that,” he coos. “Thank you for being so honest. I know it’s hard for you sometimes. I’d love to do it again if it’s something we both like, and if it makes San Lang feel good like that. Do you want to try now?”
Hua Cheng looks sheepishly at the state of Xie Lian’s abused nipples. “Maybe we should give gege a break, first. I was kind of rough today…”
The second time is decidedly not an accident.
It’s in the morning; Xie Lian wakes first and finds his husband’s head pillowed on his chest, already so perfectly close… “San Lang?” he whispers. “San Lang, do you want to try—ahem, that, again?”
Hua Cheng squints up at him, blinking blearily, and mumbles something incoherent.
“Here,” Xie Lian coaxes, lacing fingers through his hair and guiding him towards a nipple. “You can—can suck, if you want.”
Something brightens in Hua Cheng’s eye. He does want, as it turns out, and mouths greedily at Xie Lian’s nipple. His latch is clumsy at first, sleep-slow and lazy. It sends waves of soft, warm pleasure through Xie Lian, and he sighs blissfully as Hua Cheng sucks. Then an odd tingle spreads through his chest, and he gasps.
“Gege?” Hua Cheng slurs, pulling back to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” Xie Lian soothes, gently guiding his head back down as one nipple begins to leak. “Drink. It’s okay.”
Xie Lian has heard stories of this, before—of omegas beginning to lactate around a hungry pup, even it isn’t one of their own. While Hua Cheng certainly isn’t one of his pups, Xie Lian suspects that the instinct to provide for him—in combination with the rather insistent stimulation his nipples are offered each day—must have been enough to trigger milk production. Perhaps he should find it gross, or improper, but Xie Lian can’t find it in himself to feel that way. He wants to provide for Hua Cheng anyway he can; why not like this, if they both enjoy it?
Hua Cheng swipes his tongue over the nipple, then wraps his lips around it and sucks deeply. Xie Lian winces—it’s a strange feeling, and not entirely pleasant. When Hua Cheng begins to draw back again, however, Xie Lian tightens his grip on his hair and holds him in place.
“It’s okay,” he repeats. “I’m only getting used to it. I want San Lang to drink.”
Even with that encouragement, Hua Cheng seems hesitant. He laps gingerly, keeping his teeth carefully covered with his lips, and it sparks a sudden annoyance in Xie Lian. Why won’t Hua Cheng simply take what he needs? Why won’t he be greedy with Xie Lian? He’s so scrawny, and so careless with himself, and he really needs to—!
“San Lang, drink,” he says, more firmly. “Gege wants to give this to you, so just take it. I won’t let you go until you have.”
He would, of course—as soon as Hua Cheng safeworded, he’d let him go in an instant. Hua Cheng doesn’t safeword, though. Hua Cheng shudders and whines and brings his hands up to rest on Xie Lian’s sides, sucking more strongly. Xie Lian coos his approval, petting one hand gently down Hua Cheng’s bare back and shoulders.
“Good boy. Good boy, San Lang, that’s it. Let gege take care of you.”
Because that’s what it feels like, really—it feels like giving Hua Cheng something he needs. He was starved for so long, of food and love and touch, and now Xie Lian wants to give him everything. Holding him like this, letting him nourish himself with Xie Lian’s body, isn’t that a wonderful thing? There’s no way to entirely undo the damage—Hua Cheng will never grow fat and soft under Xie Lian’s care, much as he might wish it—but he can damn well try.
Seeing Hua Cheng’s eye slip closed, feeing his skin warm from their closeness, watching his throat bob with each hungry swallow…
Xie Lian really couldn’t be happier.
When Xie Lian goes to guide Hua Cheng to his other nipple, Hua Cheng whines and presses closer. “San Lang, there’s more over here, it’s alright. We’re not stopping. Gege just wants you to move over here, see?”
Once Hua Cheng settles in on the other side of his chest, he suckles with renewed fervor. It takes several minutes for him to relax again, but Xie Lian is patient. Eventually, Hua Cheng’s eye slides shut and suckling grows softer. Xie Lian doesn’t scold him for it, this time. He’s taken enough, and seems to be falling asleep again. He breathes through his mouth until Xie Lian eases him off, gently nudging his chin up and burrowing him under the blankets again.
He falls back asleep, and wakes up perfectly content.
The twentieth time, Xie Lian realizes he may have created a monster.
Once his initial hesitancy has been erased, Hua Cheng becomes a greedy little thing. He buries his face against Xie Lian’s chest morning and night and—if he can get away with it—afternoon, too. He is utterly insatiable. While Xie Lian has no qualms with nursing his hungry husband, it does create new problems.
Xie Lian is leaky.
He’s constantly producing milk, now, and if Hua Cheng ever misses a feeding then his chest grows tight and sore. He can relieve the pressure himself by burying his face against Hua Cheng’s robes, inhaling the familiar scent of him and squeezing his own nipples—but that’s horrifically embarrassing, and leaves him feeling bereft and unsatisfied. What a waste of good milk!
“San Lang,” he bemoans, one afternoon, “I feel like a cow.”
Hua Cheng, who had been fastened quite contentedly to one brown nipple, laughs so hard he chokes on a mouthful of milk.
“Gege,” he soothes, after, “you’re better than any cow in the whole world.”
Xie Lian may not know much about romance, but even he can tell that that’s not much of a compliment. Still, he decides to play along. He rolls over, hooking a leg over Hua Cheng’s and jutting his lower lip out in a playful pout. “Really? You mean it?”
“En, of course.” Hua Cheng nods sagely. “Gege smells better, his nipples are much prettier, and his milk is better, too.”
“What’s it taste like?”
Hua Cheng grins. “Does gege want to taste? Here.”
A pink flush creeps across Xie Lian’s face, but he doesn’t protest when Hua Cheng leans down to suck in another mouthful of milk. When he straightens back up, he presses their mouths together, and—oh. Xie Lian makes a face. It’s sweet and mild, with a strange aftertaste. He licks it from his teeth.
“San Lang...likes that?”
“I love it,” Hua Cheng says fervently. “Gege, can I have some more?”
“Later.”
Hua Cheng whines, flopping down and pressing his face to Xie Lian’s stomach. Spoiled thing. Xie Lian reaches down, twirling a strand of Hua Cheng’s hair around his finger. “Needy,” he says, and it sounds more like praise than it does chastisement. “Needy, spoiled San Lang.”
“Only for gege.”
“Good.” Xie Lian kisses Hua Cheng’s hair, and then the mating scar on the slope of his shoulder. After a moment’s thought, he lifts his hand. “Here. Open your mouth.”
Hua Cheng obeys, and Xie Lian slides two fingers in over the wet curve of his tongue.
“Suck on those and rest,” Xie Lian instructs, and uses his other hand to roll open a scroll. As he reads, Hua Cheng latches onto his fingers and suckles enthusiastically. He laves his tongue between them, nibbles on the tips of his nails, and begins to relax against Xie Lian’s side. Before long, his eye is drifting shut, and Xie Lian can extract his fingers without a fuss.
His San Lang really is like a fickle pup, sometimes.
The thirty-first time is to calm himself down because, he’s come to discover, there’s nothing quite like having a sated alpha on his chest to help him settle. It’s after a mission gone awry—a mission in which Hua Cheng was injured —and so he drags Hua Cheng back to their rooms, kisses him full of spiritual energy, and tears his shirt open to press him to a nipple.
Hua Cheng accepts readily, opening his mouth and latching like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands come up to knead Xie Lian’s chest, pulling and pressing the muscle there as he suckles. His injuries have long since been healed by their spiritual energy, but Xie Lian wants him to nurse anyway—wants him here, full and safe in the cradle of Xie Lian’s body.
Mine, Xie Lian thinks posessively, scentmarking his husband rather aggressively as he nurses. My alpha, my San Lang. Mine to keep. Mine to take care of. Mine to hold and feed and heal.
Slowly, Xie Lian begins to relax—the flood of hormones triggered by Hua Cheng’s suckling makes him feel warm and content, and he gradually loosens his hold on his mate. “You’re safe,” he mumbles, half to himself. “You’re okay.”
Hua Cheng rumbles his agreement, licking Xie Lian’s chest affectionately. He makes small snuffling sounds as he suckles, his body warming. When Xie Lian leans down, pressing a hand to Hua Cheng’s stomach, he can feel the tiniest swell of his belly. His throat bobs with each leisurely swallow, and Xie Lian releases a shaky sigh as the last of the tension leaves him.
The fortieth time, Hua Cheng bites him.
It’s an accident, of sorts—Hua Cheng is the one agitated this time, pacing circles around their room and snarling because a ghost dared to put hands on Xie Lian. Ordinarily he wouldn’t be so worked up over such a little thing, but he’s nearing his rut and his emotions run close to the surface. Xie Lian tries to soothe him with words and gentle touches, first, but failing that he draws Hua Cheng to their bed and unbuttons his robes.
Hua Cheng burrows against him, first, inhaling his scent and rubbing his cheeks along Xie Lian’s chest to scent him. He presses an ear over his heart and clings tightly, a low growl still humming in his chest. “Shh,” Xie Lian soothes, rubbing his shoulders. “Shh, San Lang, everything’s okay. No one hurt me. San Lang protected me so well—he can relax, now, everything is safe.”
When Hua Cheng finally latches, he does so with more aggression than usual. He sucks hard, digging his fingers into Xie Lian’s side, and then he bites. Xie Lian’s reaction is entirely instinctive—he snarls, then leans down and sinks his teeth fiercely into the skin of Hua Cheng’s throat. Hua Cheng lets out an entirely undignified yelp before trailing into a series of pathetic whimpers: alpha or not, when it comes to something like this it’s Xie Lian who holds all of the power.
Finally certain in what his husband is asking for, Xie Lian pushes Hua Cheng down beneath him before unlatching his teeth. There’s a red impression left behind on the skin, but no blood—Xie Lian had really bitten him no harder than he would an unruly pup who was testing him.
“San Lang, that’s enough,” he scolds, and Hua Cheng wilts beneath him as his gaze darts away guiltily. “I know you’re scared and angry, but you don’t get to bite me just because of that. It’s time to calm down now.”
“Yes, gege,” Hua Cheng mumbles, and Xie Lian lays down on top of him. “Sorry, gege.”
Xie Lian curls up on top of his husband’s chest, and then begins to unbutton his robes. Once his chest is bare, he licks curiously at one of Hua Cheng’s own nipples—Hua Cheng stiffens, so he stops.
“Is this okay?” Xie Lian asks, peeking up at him. He knows that it makes him feel better whenever Hua Cheng is safe and secure at his chest; maybe it would help his husband feel better to have him there, too?
Wordlessly, Hua Cheng nods, and so Xie Lian returns to the task at hand. He covers his husband’s chest in warm, tiny kitten licks before settling in at one nipple and latching on. There’s something soothing about being on this side of things, too—the closeness of Hua Cheng, the warm scent of him, the rhythmic movement of tongue and lips and cheeks. Gradually, Hua Cheng’s breathing begins to slow and his muscles go lax.
Then, he starts to cry.
“San Lang?” Xie Lian sits up at once, alarmed. “San Lang, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. Ah, it’s really nothing, I just—” He swipes at his eye, laughing wetly. “I’m sorry I bit you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Gege is always so good to me and I just—”
“Don’t feel guilty. I already punished you for it, anyway,” Xie Lian says reasonably. “I bit you back, so we’re even.”
“But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I hurt gege, and he—!”
“He forgives you,” Xie Lian insists, reaching up to rub Hua Cheng’s tears away. “San Lang, husband, don’t be sad. It’s okay. Just don’t do it again—not without asking, anyway.”
Hua Cheng catches his hand, pressing kisses to his knuckles.
“Won’t San Lang try again?” Xie Lian coaxes. “It might make him feel better.”
“Gege shouldn’t trust me so easily.”
“Nonsense. Besides, I’m…” Xie Lian looks away, blushing fiercely. “I’m all sore and wet now. If you don’t take the milk, I’ll just have to waste it myself.”
This, at least, seems to convince Hua Cheng. Xie Lian gets him bundled back up in the blankets and cradles him close, allowing him to soothe himself around mouthfuls of milk. His mouth is warm and gentle, this time, and before long his growls have been replaced with wobbly purrs as he sinks into a softer headspace. Xie Lian noses along his hairline, sighing happily—he smells warm and milky, and it makes Xie Lian want to hold him tight and never let go.
The fiftieth time, he wakes up to a mouth already on him. Hua Cheng is suckling in his sleep—his aim is off, and he’s sucking a wet pink patch onto the skin of Xie Lian’s shoulder. It takes everything in Xie Lian not to coo and squish his husband’s cheeks. How dare he be so cute this early in the morning!
“Here, baby,” he murmurs, sleepily guiding Hua Cheng’s mouth to a nipple. Hua Cheng roots against his chest and makes a happy sound when he finally manages to latch.
Sighing deeply, Xie Lian shuts his eyes again and falls asleep to the knowledge that his little alpha is here, and his, and happy.