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"Well, you're definitely pregnant."
Sizhui has to remember how to breathe. His hands, cold and clammy, are clenched on his knees, and he feels a little nauseous – although that is the most normal of all the overwhelming feelings. He’s been nauseous every day for a week, it's why he ended up at the doctor’s office to begin with. “I thought… you couldn’t get pregnant on testosterone?”
The doctor runs his fingers down the page of Sizhui’s lab work, and chuckles quietly to himself. “Your levels are quite high for you to have conceived, but it’s not impossible. If you’re going to continue with this pregnancy–”
“If?” Sizhui drags in another long breath, a hand curled protectively over his stomach.
The doctor holds up a placating hand. “You’re going to need to stop taking testosterone until you give birth.” He smiles, “Have you told the father?”
Sizhui’s eyes go wide at that, and he sits back against the chair, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. After a moment, he says, “No, not yet,” in a strangled voice.
The doctor nods, “That, along with some prenatal vitamins and scheduling a few appointments, is what I would suggest you do next. Congratulations, Mr. Lan.”
Sizhui collects the prescription for prenatals, and auto-pilots through scheduling check ups once a month for the next several months. His mind is… elsewhere.
Have you told the father?
Sizhui makes it all the way back out to the car before he breaks down into hysterical laughter at the question. How could he tell the father? That would imply that he knows which one of them it is.
--
Six Weeks Ago
“Okay, so what happened exactly?” Zizhen asks. “What’s had you so down lately?”
He’s sitting at Sizhui’s feet where Sizhui is curled into the corner of the couch. Jingyi and Jin Ling are on armchairs, all four of them spread across the den in Lan Xichen’s currently empty house. Sizhui is, supposedly, house sitting for his uncle. Uncle Xichen hadn’t said he had to house sit all alone, after all.
“I just feel like I’m going to be alone forever.” It’s a level of drama Sizhui doesn’t usually allow himself. “All of my dates lately have been terrible. It’s been ages since I’ve even found someone to fuck.”
“Have you considered you’re looking in the wrong places?” Jin Ling snarks from across the room, sitting on the ground with his legs stretched out, his back pressed against a chair.
All three of them – even Jingyi, who had been otherwise mostly not paying attention – turn towards Jin Ling. “What do you mean by that, A-Ling?” Sizhui asks, in a soft voice.
Jin Ling turns away, looking towards the large windows where the last sunlight of the day is filtering through. He doesn’t say anything, so naturally Jingyi does. “Jin Ling, are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Jingyi cocks his head to the side, studying Jin Ling.
“I think he is implying what you think he’s implying,” Zizhen agrees. “Jin Ling, are you telling–”
“I haven’t actually said anything.”
“–us that you want to fuck Sizhui?”
Jin Ling whips back around to them with a red face. “I– No? I–”
“Oh no, Zizhen, he doesn’t want to fuck Sizhui.” Jingyi’s face spreads into a grin that Sizhui is both enamored with and terrified of. He’s too busy watching Jingyi to really internalize what they’re teasing Jin Ling about. Zizhen is running his hand up and down the curve of Sizhui’s calf slowly, it's a welcome softness. “He wants to date Sizhui.”
Jin Ling is speechless for only a moment and then he shoots back, “Well it’s not like I’m the only one! All either of you do is stare at him, or each other.”
“Or you,” Zizhen adds, squeezing Sizhui calf and glancing up at him with a wink.
“Or me – hey, wait really?”
“Oh my God you’re such a dweeb.” Jingyi all but tackles Jin Ling, pressing him back against the chair and slotting their mouths together. “But thank fuck you finally said something.”
Sizhui is so mesmerized watching the two of them that he almost doesn’t notice that Zizhen has shifted, that he’s kneeling now between Sizhui’s spread legs. “What do you think, Sizhui?” Zizhen asks, reaching up to cup Sizhui’s jaw. “About dating us? Or even just fucking us. I think at this point, any of us would take what we can get. And all of us are dying for a chance to give you what you deserve.”
“What I… deserve?” Sizhui asks, chewing on his bottom lip.
Zizhen’s kiss is soft and warm against his lips. He’s not pushy. He’s not trying to overpower Sizhui or make him feel small. There’s no awkward groping or uncomfortable questions. Just his friends. Who he cares so deeply about, who he might – he might even love.
“We should let A-Ling go first,” Jingyi calls from the other side of the room. “But if Sizhui’s game, we can all take our turns with him. He’d like that, wouldn’t he? To be used by all of us?” Jingyi smirks and Sizhui’s cunt throbs at the very idea – all of them.
“I’m game,” Sizhui says, between kisses. Zizhen’s lips have moved to his neck now, soft and insistent. Sizhui is so overwhelmed by how right this feels.
Eventually, Jingyi moves away from Jin Ling, whose hair is disheveled and lips are kissed red. Zizhen pulls Sizhui to his feet, holds him close and whispers, “Are you sure?” into his ear, because that’s just who Zizhen is as a person.
Sizhui nods, and kisses Zizhen’s cheek before he’s pushed gently in Jin Ling’s direction. Jin Ling seems unsure as Sizhui spills into his lap, boneless. Sizhui is more than capable of moving by himself but he feels soft, almost dazed with what he’s about to have, what his friends are about to give him.
Sizhui settles into Jin Ling’s lap, arms looped around his neck, pressing their foreheads together.
“Hi.”
Jin Ling huffs. “Hi.”
“Fancy seeing you here,” Sizhui says, bumping their noses together. It’s easy to do this, somehow, as if they’ve done this before. Sizhui feels comfortable here, soothed by the way Jingyi and Zizhen kissed him before. He’s safe here; they want him.
Jin Ling especially.
“Don’t tell my mom about this,” Jin Ling says, catching Sizhui’s mouth with his own. He kisses Sizhui sweetly, tentatively. It’s lovely, and it takes several moments for Sizhui’s brain to catch up with him because of it.
“Dude, don’t talk about your mom when you’re kissing me,” Sizhui complains, punching Jin Ling in the arm. They both laugh, which in Jin Ling’s case is more of a giggle, before Jin Ling kisses him again, pulling Sizhui in even closer. It makes him press up against Jin Ling’s cock, insistent against Sizhui’s cunt through their layers of sweatpants, hot and wanting.
Sizhui moans and moves again, and everything blurs as he keeps going, suddenly desperate for it. It’s been months since he’s had any kind of action and he wants Jin Ling so badly, wants Jingyi and Zizhen and wants them to absolutely ruin him.
He’ll cry if they don’t do it.
“Want you to fuck me, please Jin Ling,” Sizhui moans, pulling Jin Ling’s cock out of his sweats, enjoying the warm weight of it in his hand. Sizhui feels hungry for it, wants to be filled and fucked and petted.
He also really badly wants to –
“Can I suck your cock?”
Jin Ling goes bright red when Sizhui says it, covering his cheeks with his hands with a groan. He’s always been easy to embarrass, and Sizhui should have guessed he would be like this during sex, too.
Jin Ling nods, peeking from behind his hands and almost immediately hiding again when he looks behind Sizhui. When Sizhui turns, he sees Jingyi and Zizhen have made themselves comfy on the den couch to make out, already handsy and all over each other.
Sizhui takes one of Jin Ling’s hands, kissing his palm. “Just look at me, A-Ling.”
Jin Ling nods again, going red all over again when Sizhui gets on his knees to take Jin Ling’s cock in his mouth, moaning around it. God he’s missed this.
“Shit, Sizhui,” Jin Ling wails. Sizhui is pretty sure he hears Jingyi and Zizhen move apart, but there’s absolutely no way he’s letting go of Jin Ling’s cock to look at them. All of a sudden he thinks about how good it would feel to have Jin Ling come in his mouth, or across his face, or –
He wants more than anything for Jin Ling to come inside him. It’s not like he can get pregnant, anyway.
It doesn’t take much for Jin Ling to get fully hard, and Sizhui is almost sad to let go of his cock when it feels so lovely in his mouth. It’s the perfect size, the perfect fit for Sizhui to keep going and if he wasn’t so desperate to be filled he feels like he could do this for hours.
Perhaps, another time. There’s more important things happening.
When Sizhui pulls off Jin Ling, he pulls him in for a kiss, muffling the squeak Jin Ling makes at his own taste in Sizhui’s mouth. Jin Ling follows Sizhui, mindless and dopey and adorable when he pulls away, settling on his back and wiggling his sweats down, and then his underwear. He’s so wet, so ready.
“Fuck me, please,” he says, making grabby hands at Jin Ling until he settles over him, settling in.
“You’re sure? Sizhui, are you sure–”
Sizhui answers by pulling Jin Ling in for another kiss.
It’s heaven when Jin Ling fucks into him, sweet and nervous and strong all the same.
“Fuck, ah.”
It’s so easy and so natural for Sizhui to lie back and have Jin Ling fuck him, feel the carpet against his back. He wonders if he’s getting a rug burn as Jin Ling starts to go faster, harder, spurred on by Sizhui refusing to let him pull away, intent on having Jin Ling kiss him as much as possible.
SIzhui feels like he’s been starving, wandering aimlessly between failed dates where he wasn’t interested in sleeping with anyone, having to content himself with one or two of his favourite dildos and his vibrator when it hasn’t been what he’s been aching for. Jin Ling is perfect, giving and warm and he warns Sizhui when he’s close, huffing against his mouth like he’s forgotten how to speak.
“You’re so good, Jin Ling, come on,” Sizhui says, nuzzing their noses together. He wants this, he wants it he wants it–
Jin Ling comes inside Sizhui with a groan and flops down on him, pressing Sizhui into the carpet of his uncle’s living room and panting. Sizhui pats his hair gently, his eyes falling closed.
"Alright, alright you got your turn," Sizhui hears more than sees Jingyi cross the room, peeling Jin Ling off of Sizhui. Jin Ling grumbles as he goes, but then the soft sounds on his lips are absorbed by another pair – Zizhen probably.
Sizhui whines with the loss of Jin Ling's cock, with the emptiness. He reaches down to press two fingers inside his cunt, delighting at the warm, sticky feeling of Jin Ling's come against his fingertips. He wants more – wants to be full again, wants to be held, adored. He wants everything they want to give him.
"You left him a mess, you know," Jingyi says, kneeling between Sizhui's legs, spread wide for his best friends – his lovers. He doesn't care if it makes him slut. He'll happily take the label if it means he gets what he wants.
"It's what he wanted," Jin Ling calls, somewhere over Sizhui's head. Sizhui doesn't hear whatever is said next because Jingyi's lips wrap around his little cock, nestled beneath neatly trimmed curls.
Sizhui realizes that he was so distracted – Jin Ling's cock in his mouth and then his cunt and now this, he hasn't come yet. He grinds his hips up, trying to get more from Jingyi, but Jingyi's hand holds him steady against the floor, delicious pressure and flickering tongue. "Ah – Jingyi – I need–"
Jingyi does not stop, but pushes Sizhui's hand out of the way, slips two of his – bigger, broader – fingers inside him. It's not a cock but it's enough, and then Jingyi angles them fucking expertly and Sizhui comes with a shout, grinding his hips against Jingyi's face.
Jingyi's face is smug when he pulls away, his fingers still pressed inside Sizhui. "You got to fuck him first and you didn't even make him come? You're going to make us look bad, Jin Ling."
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry–”
“You’ll make it up to him next time,” Zizhen says, and Sizhui’s heart gives a jolt of delight. Next time. “Won’t you, Jin Ling?”
Sizhui, warm and sated and high on endorphins nearly forgets the task at hand, and then he’s hauled up to a seated position. Jingyi, stretched out on his back, pats his thighs. “Come on, A-Yuan.”
The name, and the fact that it’s Jingyi is a powerful combination. It brings back poignant memories of illicit kisses and hiding in corners and grinding against each other, thinking about this exact situation and never acting on it. Sizhui swings his leg over Jingyi, settling back against his dick slowly, smiling down at him all the while. Jingyi is bigger than Jin Ling, but Sizhui is wet and horny and he wants this so much.
Jingyi glides one of his hands around to cup Sizhui’s ass, squeezing gently as Sizhui settles, all of Jingyi inside him – it’s so much. “You’re fucking perfect, do you know that? You always have been.”
Sizhui leans forward, shuddering at the pull of Jingyi’s cock inside him as he does, but kissing Jingyi all the same. Jingyi shifts his lower body, bending his knees and giving tiny upward thrusts that Sizhui rocks his own hips back against. It’s intense like this, like Jingyi is giving Sizhui every part of him in a very different way.
Jingyi’s fingers find his cock again, stroking it even though Sizhui is already sensitive. “I want you to come again. Ride me until you come, Sizhui.” It’s not a request. Sizhui whines, but braces his arms on either side of Jingyi and tries to find a rhythm: Jingyi’s upward thrust and his rocking backwards and the fingers against his cock and the stretch and Jin Ling and Zizhen watching them and –
Sizhui comes again, shuddering, just as he feels Jingyi’s thrusts begin to lose rhythm. He tries to keep going, whines against Jingyi’s ear, begging, “Fill me up, please, fuck me, come inside me, Jingyi please.”
Jingyi does – holding Sizhui’s hips firmly as he thrusts up, coming impossibly deep inside Sizhui, his chest heaving as if he was the one who had been doing the riding. “Fuck,” Jingyi says, a little dazed.
“See, it’s distracting.” Jin Ling calls from across the room. Sizhui turns to see him on his knees, cheeks a little red, sucking the tip of Zizhen’s cock into his mouth. He glances down and slides away, “I was just uh, getting him ready for you.”
Zizhen, as ever, is sweet when he pulls Sizhui off of Jingyi’s cock and up onto the sofa, settling him on his back and pushing his thighs apart.
“Jesus, look at the mess they’ve made of you,” he says, pressing his thumb against Sizhui’s entrance, watching Jingyi’s come dribble out. Sizhui would flush all over if he wasn’t already, feeling filthy and ruined and amazing. He’s also never been happier that Uncle Xichen insisted on a leather sofa for his living room, even when it hits him and he groans.
“Sizhui? Are you okay?”
Zizhen’s eyes are huge and round as he looks at Sizhui, who just about manages to shake his head in return.
“No, I’m fine, I...just realised that my uncle probably fucks his husband on this couch.”
It makes Zizhen laugh, and Sizhui gets caught up in the giggly feeling of it until Zizhen is pulling him down and guiding his cock inside Sizhui, too fast and too much and too –
Amazing. It feels amazing. He feels used, and loved and treasured.
“Zizhen–”
“Feels good, baby?”
Sizhui nods, reaching up to hold onto Zizhen’s shoulders as he fucks Sizhui hard into the couch. It’s hard to focus on it; his cock is oversensitive and his cunt is so sore and Zizhen is bigger than Jin Ling and Jingyi both but it feels so good to just take it, lying there, held safe by Zizhen with the promise of being kept there.
“You’re so hot, Sizhui,” Zizhen says, pressing his whole weight down on Sizhui, close and heavy and comforting. “So hot. You should have – should have let us do this before–”
“I wanted it, thought about it–”
His final orgasm hits Sizhui by surprise, sneaking up on him so that he can’t even warn Zizhen, just going rigid and pressing his head back into the couch cushions. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, he can’t catch his breath and he feels Zizhen coming inside him.
It’s filthy, he’s sweating all over and it’s too much when Zizhen tries to pull out to clean him up. Instead, SIzhui pulls him closer, murmurs for Zizhen to stay inside him. He doesn’t want to feel empty, doesn’t want to feel the cold rush of being alone again and he just wants to stay here, blissed out and fucked well on his uncle’s couch and safe in this room with three boys who love him. He needs this.
“Shh, Sizhui, it’s okay, I’m here.”
Sizhui doesn’t know if Zizhen says it or if it’s Jin Ling or Jingyi, both of them suddenly close and petting his hair, his shoulders. He thinks he hears something about a bath but he’s floating away, lost in the sensation of them all moving him, gently putting his t-shirt over his head.
He doesn’t have to think here.
He comes to in the bath, an absurdly huge thing in uncle Xichen’s guest bathroom, laid back against Jin Ling’s chest, held by him.
“You okay, dude?”
Sizhui sighs, making himself comfortable against Jin Ling. “Yeah, I. Yeah, sorry, it was just. A lot.”
“Mm.”
It’s quiet for several moments, just the quiet sounds of the water and Jingyi passing back and forth on the other side of the open door, gathering clean clothes for Sizhui, fresh towels.
“Jingyi! Stop fussing! Tell Zizhen to order pizza!” Sizhui calls eventually.
Jin Ling snorts. “Yeah, you’re fine.”
Sizhui’s laugh gets lost when Jin Ling turns his head up to kiss him again.
--
Group Chat: R. Jin, J. Lan, S. Lan, Z. Ouyang
LSZ: So uh… we all need to talk.
LJY: Only mildly terrifying
OZZ: Is everything okay?
JRL: ??????
LSZ: It’s fine
LSZ: I mean, for a definition of fine
LJY: Not less terrifying
LSZ: We just all really need to talk.
LSZ: Soon.
LSZ: Like, tonight would be good.
JRL: ??? what the fuck?
LSZ: Trust me, you don’t wanna hear this over text message.
LJY: I’ll grab dinner on the way.
--
Sizhui’s apartment – a studio that he realizes with a sinking feeling is not going to be enough – is probably around the size of the living room this had all started in his uncle's place. He wants to blame the nausea on the pregnancy, but it’s nearly eight at night, and it’s been fairly consistently gone by noon each day. Still, as his friends – boyfriends? Partners? Did their relationship even have a name? – pile into his apartment, Sizhui tries to keep calm.
“Okay, so, what the fuck?” Jin Ling asks, once they’re settled around the cartons of takeout that Jingyi had brought over on the floor, the only open space large enough for them all to fit.
“Let him eat first, Jesus.” Jingyi elbows Jin Ling, but Sizhui waves at them with his empty hand, setting the chopsticks down in one of the cartons.
It's now or never, he thinks, and unfortunately never isn't an option. He can try to hide this all he wants but the evidence will present itself soon enough.
He doesn't want to keep this a secret, anyway. Sizhui shakes himself out of his thoughts.
“No, I should probably just uh, say it.” Sizhui clears his throat and glances around the room: he takes in Zizhen’s calm, if worried smile, Jin Ling’s obvious fear, and Jingyi’s Standard Lan Neutrality, which Sizhui is a little impressed with him for maintaining. “I’m pregnant,” he says it quickly, dropping his head. “Um. Six weeks pregnant.”
The only sounds in the room are everyone breathing.
Jin Ling is the first to break it, exclaiming, “Oh fuck, six weeks was –”
“The night at Lan Xichen’s.” Jingyi finishes, with a sigh.
Sizhui drops further, curling protectively around his stomach. There's nothing there yet, but he feels protective all the same. He doesn't want any of them to judge him for this, even though he doesn't think they would. His emotions are just all over the place.
“What are you going to do?” Zizhen asks, softly. He reaches over to take Sizhui’s hand.
Sizhui lets out a hysterical little giggle. “Well, the doctor today said I needed to tell the father, so, uh, well, it has to be one of you. So I guess I’ve done that. Other than that, I have to stop taking T until the baby is born and uh, at some point I’m gonna have to tell my dads.”
“Oh fuck,” Jin Ling repeats, drawing his legs up, tucking his chin against his knees. “We’re gonna have to tell my mom after all, aren’t we?”
Sizhui lets out another bubble of laughter at that, reaching up to wipe tears out of his eyes – of joy, of relief, he can’t quite tell. “I mean, we don’t have to unless it’s yours, A-Ling. Even if it's not, she's baba's sister, she'll still know that I'm having a baby."
“How...would we find out? Who the other father is?” Jingyi asks, his eyes sliding from Sizhui’s face down to his abdomen in less-than-subtle interest.
“Do we even want to find out?” Zizhen counters. “Does it… matter?”
Sizhui glances at each of them again, tears still gathering in his eyes. “I mean, I’m having this baby, but… I’m not going to force you all to help me raise them. It was my fault – I should have been more careful –”
“You didn’t come in yourself,” Jin Ling says, rolling his eyes. “Three times.”
Jingyi reaches over to swipe tears away. “We’re as much responsible for this – for them– as you are.” He smiles. “I’m not letting you do this alone. I don’t even really care whose baby it is.”
“We did agree to date each other.” Jin Ling says, climbing to his feet to step around Jingyi, dropping to his knees behind Sizhui and wrapping his arms around Sizhui’s chest.
“Date each other, have a baby together, it’s all the same,” Zizhen snorts. He squeezes Sizhui’s hand.
Sizhui exhales, comforted by the three of them, and lays his shaky hand atop his still-flat stomach. He should have known that they would all be as sweet as possible about this.
“So, we’re doing this,” he whispers. “Well, little one, we told the rest of your dads. All four of us know now.”
Jin Ling’s hand lays on top of Sizhui’s, followed by Jingyi and Zizhen’s. For a moment, it’s like they’re all connected – it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. “I really love all of you,” Sizhui says, tears streaming down his face. “So much.”
“We love you too,” Zizhen says, kissing the side of Sizhui’s head. “But we should really all eat. Especially you, since you're eating for two now.”
They part, slowly, each of them unwilling to let go of Sizhui so soon. Sizhui feels everything he wanted from that night, and then some – loved, cherished, cared for. And he bets, if he asks real nicely, he can even get himself wrecked again, exactly how he was the first time.
It’s not like he can get more pregnant.