Work Text:
Mobei Jun was the most terrifying man in the company.
Common sense said that Luo Binghe, being the boss, should be the scariest man in the company, but that was incorrect. Mister Luo was, at the very least, personable and charming. His right hand was simply terrifying.
He was a big, broad man, so cool and unflinching it was as if he was chiseled from marble. His family was Old Old Old Money, and it showed in his regal countenance and ruthless reaction to failure. His suits were all bespoke. His office was cold and minimalistic, devoid of anything sentimental or personal. Indeed, the only sign that Mobei Jun was a man and not some sort of business robot was the golden band around his ring finger and the fact he always left at 5:30 on the dot. Many couldn’t imagine Mobei Jun’s spouse – sure, the man was handsome and rich, but that personality…
Mobei Jun strode out of his office, jacket draped over one arm and briefcase in hand, and all the worker bees cowered in their cubicles. He gave them all an icy, assessing look. With a deep, rumbling voice he announced, “Be done by six.”
What kind of big boss man hated overtime?! His employees despaired over their stingy employer.
Mobei Jun tossed his things in the back of his luxurious black sedan before settling into the driver’s seat. He navigated the city’s traffic impatiently, fingers tapping against the steering wheel and a growl in his throat. By the time he parked in the building’s private garage, his shoulders were tense and jaw clenched. The doorman greeted him with a murmur; a private elevator took him up to the apartment.
Big floor to ceiling windows gave the apartment a spectacular view of the city, its lights slowly coming on as the sun slunk below the horizon. The fine hardwood floors were scattered with toys and crayon drawings, and Mobei Jun navigated around them as he took off his shoes and put away his things.
“PAPA!”
Mobei Jun barely flinched as a black blur attached itself to his leg at eighty miles per hour. “Hello, A-Yue.”
A-Yue wore a fine white sundress, rather at odds with her wild hair that stayed tangled no matter how much you brushed it. Mobei Jun patted her head and continued deeper into the apartment, unencumbered by the barnacle clinging to him. From around whatever corner A-Yue came from toddled out Bailian, her face drawn into a mask of immense concentration.
“Papa,” she said, holding out her arms. Mobei Jun lifted her easily, settling the toddler on his hip.
“Ah, husband!”
Shang Qinghua had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, hands covered in silver pencil smears. His shirt was oversized, draping attractively over the soft swell of his stomach. Mobei Jun craned his neck to kiss him, free hand delicately touching his belly.
“Uncle Shen came today!” A-Yue said. “He brought Gege!”
“Gege,” Bailian repeated solemnly.
Gege was Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe’s son Luo Sen, a six-year-old with eyes that watered too easily. Mobei Jun did not trust him.
“I have to revise so many thumbnails,” Shang Qinghua whined, wrapping his arms tight around Mobei Jun’s waist and pressing his face into his chest. “Shen Qingqiu is so mean…”
“Mhm,” Mobei Jun hummed.
Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua made dinner together, filling up the apartment with delicious smells. At the dining room table, Bailian’s highchair was placed between Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun so they could take turns helping her eat her chopped up food. A-Yue chattered quickly, barely remembering her manners as she went through her day playing with Gege and Bai-mei in extreme detail. Mobei Jun listened intently.
After dinner, Mobei Jun gave A-Yue and Bailian a bath while Shang Qinghua cleaned up dinner. He attempted to untangle A-Yue’s hair, but he was even worse at it than his husband. Bailian laughed as she splashed the soapy water, soaking Mobei Jun’s shirt.
His daughters clean and dried, Mobei Jun put them to bed – eventually A-Yue would want her own room, but for now she wanted to share one with her baby sister. Shang Qinghua read them a story while Mobei Jun went to get ready for bed himself.
Mobei Jun tossed his clothes into the hamper and collapsed on to the big California King bed in just his boxer briefs. He sighed deeply, turning his head to look out the big windows and the skyline beyond. His muscles slowly relaxed and he shut his eyes, enjoying the quiet.
The door opened and Mobei Jun looked up to see Shang Qinghua scuttling in, arms wrapped oddly around his chest. Mobei Jun furrowed his brow as Shang Qinghua got ready for bed, back suspiciously to Mobei Jun the whole time.
“Is something wrong?” Mobei Jun asked.
“Ah?!” Shang Qinghua exclaimed. “What do you mean? I’m fine, hahaha!”
That categorially meant Shang Qinghua was not fine, but Mobei Jun learned patience was necessary if one were to be happily married.
Shang Qinghua finally turned around wearing one of Mobei Jun’s T-shirts, face red. Despite the dark material, Mobei Jun could see where the chest had wet spots.
“It won’t stop,” Shang Qinghua pouted. “It’s because Bailian’s weaning and I’m hormonal and everything’s backed up—”
Mobei Jun pulled Shang Qinghua close, pulling up the T-shirt. Shang Qinghua’s chest was swollen, nipples dripping. His stomach was only slightly rounded, as he was just four months along. Stretch marks covered his body like tiger stripes.
“Husband,” Shang Qinghua whined, embarrassed. Mobei Jun bent down and suckled.
Mobei Jun had done this before, right after A-Yue weaned herself and Shang Qinghua was left uncomfortable. His husband was too embarrassed for it to become a regular thing, but the milk was just as sweet as Mobei Jun remembered. Shang Qinghua hiccupped out little moans, thighs squirming together. The milk flowed freely – his husband had always been quite fecund.
“O-oh,” Shang Qinghua murmured. “Please—”
Mobei Jun pulled away, a trickle of milk leaking down from the corner of his mouth. He ripped Shang Qinghua’s underwear off and spread his thighs wide, diving down with enthusiasm. Shang Qinghua was warm and wet, his fingers curling in Mobei Jun’s hair. After so long, Mobei Jun knew exactly how to drive Shang Qinghua to madness. He pressed two fingers into him and sucked on the clit, massaging the spongy spot inside Shang Qinghua.
Shang Qinghua arched up, thighs clamping tight around Mobei Jun’s head. Mobei Jun was relentless, mouth and chin soon soaked by Shang Qinghua’s slick, and the smell made Mobei Jun’s eyes go half-lidded. This was his favorite place.
“Husband,” Shang Qinghua panted. “H-husband I’m going to—”
Shang Qinghua covered his mouth to muffle his cries as he came, squirting across Mobei Jun’s face. Mobei Jun pulled back to catch it on his tongue until his face was completely drenched and Shang Qinghua sagged back on the bed. Mobei Jun sat up on his knees, looking down at his husband, milk trickling in rivulets down his chest. He pulled off his briefs and leaned down, hooking Shang Qinghua’s legs over his arms. Shang Qinghua whimpered as Mobei Jun pressed his thick cock inside, meeting no resistance in the tight, hot heat.
Mobei Jun moved his hips a bit, both adjusting to the penetration, before he bent down and caught Shang Qinghua’s nipple in his mouth, eagerly suckling. His husband liked it hard, fast, and unrelenting, and so Mobei Jun did not hold back his instinct to pound into that warmth. Something about Shang Qinghua made Mobei Jun go wild, wanting to keep him plump and pregnant at all times, surrounded by their children. Shang Qinghua possessed similar desires.
Shang Qinghua scratched up Mobei Jun’s back as he sucked on his nipples, milk flowing freely. The taste was exquisite; a growl was rumbling in Mobei Jun’s chest like he was possessed by it. Shang Qinghua moaned and begged, “Please touch me, I need you to touch me—”
Mobei Jun rubbed Shang Qinghua’s clit viciously, suckling harder for sweet milk. Shang Qinghua wrapped all his limbs tightly around Mobei Jun, thighs twitching and legs kicking. The embrace spurred Mobei Jun on even further, driving his cock deeper and harder until Shang Qinghua spasmed around him, tossing his head back with a long, low groan. Mobei Jun couldn’t handle how he tightened, and with a few more violent thrusts he came inside Shang Qinghua until it dripped out of him.
Shang Qinghua panted, limp and unmoving, as Mobei Jun pulled out. There was a prominent wet spot on the bed; they’d have to change the sheets. Mobei Jun flopped down next to husband.
“I’m all gross,” Shang Qinghua complained. Mobei Jun hummed.
“We’ll take a bath,” he said. Shang Qinghua gave him a panicked look.
“That’s just an excuse for you to—” he began, words cut off with a squeak when Mobei Jun lifted him up and took him into the bathroom.