Work Text:
There was no hotel that could compare to being home.
Qinghe & Partners paid for the best hotels available—for all their employees, not just because Nie Mingjue was the president—but when he and his vice president Meng Yao got off the plane and trudged through the airport, Nie Mingjue could only think about how comfortable his own house would be. He had a new blend of herbal tea from Nie Huaisang’s small shop and was planning on watching at least one episode on HGTV before he called it a night. Soon, he would be allowed to turn his brain off and just be. He should have worn sweatpants on the plane, but he hadn’t had time to change out of his suit after their last meeting.
At least they were leaving the work trip with a success under their belts and a three day weekend ahead of them.
The trip had gone as well as possible. Qinghe & Partners was expanding, thanks largely to the petite man walking quietly beside him through the terminal. With a demure omega head tilt and soft words, Meng Yao could pick apart every weakness of a company, deciding quickly whether it was worth trying to acquire or just stomp out of the market.
There had been a time when Nie Mingjue, a young alpha with a chip on his shoulder and a legacy to live up to, would have taken Meng Yao’s competency as a threat. Nie Mingjue had thought he needed to be better than everyone, alpha, omega, and beta alike. He had clung to Qinghe & Partners with a ferocious desperation that had raised his international reputation—but also his blood pressure.
These days, it was mostly Nie Mingjue’s job to say ‘yes’ to any of Meng Yao’s acquisition suggestions while following his doctor’s orders—and his brother’s and Meng Yao’s—to turn off his phone on weekends and regularly eat vegetables.
God help him, he had started to crave vegetables. After a week of steak dinners and negotiations, the thought of a crisp iceberg salad was enough to make him groan.
“Will you make it to the Uber?” Meng Yao asked wryly. Unlike Nie Mingjue, he had somehow found the time to change out of his suit into a soft sweater—maybe cashmere? Nie Huaisang would know—and wide-legged pants. Meng Yao was far too meticulous to risk one of his suits on a public flight.
Nie Mingjue glanced over at him and snorted. “Why? Offering to carry me?”
“I’d call for a baggage cart,” Meng Yao said, quick as ever.
“I still don’t think you could push me. Really, I’m mostly hungry,” Nie Mingjue admitted. “Those little plane dinners don’t do it for me.”
“Do you have an idea of what you’ll eat?” Meng Yao asked.
Nie Mingjue looked wistfully at a sandwich shop as they walked past. “Huaisang ordered groceries for my fridge while I was out. Knowing him they’ll probably all still be in their bags shoved onto the shelves, he can’t do too much work, but he tries to make it impossible for me to say I ‘had’ to get fast food. He’s a nightmare.”
“He’s useful,” Meng Yao said, which was a compliment from him.
“I’ll still have to cook things,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “Fast food is fast.”
“I have a solution for that. If you’re amenable.”
Meng Yao was typing on his phone quickly as he spoke, but there was something in his tone that made Nie Mingjue look over. They’d been friends and colleagues for too many years for Nie Mingjue not to know all of Meng Yao’s nuances. His usually unflappable vice president was nervous.
“Solution?” Nie Mingjue prompted.
“A solution. I come over and cook dinner for us,” Meng Yao said, not looking up from his phone. “We eat together. You clean the dishes. We see where the night takes us, but preferably to your bedroom.” Finally, Meng Yao looked up from his phone to pin Nie Mingjue with his dark eyes. “Thoughts?”
Nie Mingjue swallowed. It wasn’t—well, it wasn’t that he’d never thought of it. He didn’t think anyone, alpha, beta, or omega, could look at Meng Yao’s pretty face and deep-set dimples and delicate wrists and not think about it. But Meng Yao had set a firm boundary the day they’d met, leading with the kind of precise professionalism that showed Meng Yao was very aware of how much people thought about it, and that he didn’t care for it one bit. Nie Mingjue had shoved his interest into the box at the back of his mind where those things belonged.
It had gotten harder to ignore over the last year now that Meng Yao was his vice president, the closest thing to his equal at the company, and—moreso—since they had become friends.
Meng Yao’s name was in his text messages nearly as often as his brother’s was, and Meng Yao had bullied his way into being involved in everything from Nie Mingjue’s wardrobe to his health. He brought joy and stability to Nie Mingjue’s life. Nie Huaisang had made some off-color jokes that Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao might be more than colleagues and friends, but Nie Mingjue had never dared to press for more.
Meng Yao was an omega, his employee, and, most importantly, entirely capable of getting whatever he wanted. Meng Yao often added extra days to their work trips so he could drag Nie Mingjue along to the new art exhibit in their destination city. He booked them meals at his favorite restaurants and made Nie Mingjue pay. He arranged to have his own trusted masseuse added to the Qinghe & Partners payroll.
If Meng Yao ever wanted Nie Mingjue, he would have him.
And now, it seemed, he did.
“Yes,” Nie Mingjue said.
Meng Yao gave him a pleased smile, showing off his dimples to unfair advantage. It sent a wave of heat through Nie Mingjue even as a sharp wind greeted them as they exited the airport into the Uber waiting area. It was colder here than it had been in California, especially with his suit jacket shoved in a bag somewhere, but that didn’t matter now. “Your thoughts are yes?” Meng Yao asked.
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue admitted with a shrug. He knew when Meng Yao was being deliberately cruel, so he took his good humored teasing without offense. “Did you expect a negotiation?”
Meng Yao tilted his head. “I plan for contingencies.”
“And have arguments ready to go,” Nie Mingjue guessed.
“Of course,” Meng Yao said. “I know how to argue for what’s important. But I prefer when I don’t have to.” He waved briskly at a car inching forward in the line, not needing to confirm the license plate against his app—Meng Yao had perfect recall, and never needed to look at anything twice.
Important. It gave Nie Mingjue an unexpected thrill to hear himself referred to that way, and it intensified when Meng Yao put a guiding hand on Nie Mingjue’s lower back to encourage him toward the car.
Nie Mingjue had been pursued before, of course. He was a rich alpha who knew how to have a good time—when he had room between his responsibilities. He had been bought drinks, flashed glimpses of lace panties, had his mustache, long hair, and biceps flirtatiously petted.
He’d slept with an array of omegas and betas. He had knotted most of them at their request, and respectfully pulled out for the others. He had ignored more than one tantalizingly bared omega neck begging for a binding bite mark—and a legal claim to part of his assets.
Not everyone had an agenda of course, but even the ones he had liked had treated him like a feral alpha they could seduce into a rutting idiot if they batted their eyelashes hard enough.
Meng Yao’s seduction felt different. Nie Mingjue didn’t know how to describe it, but as he settled into the car and felt Meng Yao slide onto the seat beside him, making just enough contact with Nie Mingjue’s thigh to make it clear it wasn’t an accident, Nie Mingjue was excited to see where it went.
***
In classic Meng Yao fashion, he hadn’t been exaggerating about the offer to make dinner. Despite the fact they had been on a plane for the last few hours, Meng Yao calmly put Nie Mingjue on a stool at the kitchen island, pressed a hand on his shoulder to encourage him to stay there, and then went through the fridge with a proprietary efficiency.
Nie Mingjue was dazed by the turn the night had taken, but it was still a pleasure to watch Meng Yao move. He had so much economy of motion in his small frame, and his footsteps barely made a sound. Nie Mingjue had been scolded by various downstairs neighbors for clomping so heavily, but Meng Yao walked like he was dancing.
There was also something addicting about seeing Meng Yao use Nie Mingjue’s kitchen like it was his own. He came over regularly, but he usually waited demurely for Nie Mingjue to serve him snacks and drinks. Clearly he had always been watching, though, and felt comfortable co-opting Nie Mingjue’s belongings to cook for them. It felt right for Meng Yao to asset himself in Nie Mingjue’s space.
In short order, Meng Yao was handing Nie Mingjue two bowls of simple stir fry with egg noodles to take to the kitchen table while Meng Yao got drinks for them both. The food smelled amazing.
“You were right,” Nie Mingjue said. “It was smart not to skip dinner.”
Meng Yao just hummed knowingly and set a glass in front of Nie Mingjue’s plate before sitting beside him. It was so startling to have Meng Yao so close, instead of across from him, that it took Nie Mingjue a moment to realize what Meng Yao had poured them.
“Not the red you like so much?” Nie Mingjue kept a few bottles of wine specifically for Meng Yao’s precise tastes.
“Seltzer,” Meng Yao said. “I want to be sober.”
What they were planning on doing after this hit Nie Mingjue again like a storm surge. “Fuck,” he breathed.
Meng Yao practically glowed with smugness as he picked up his chopsticks. “Eat your dinner.”
The food was delicious—Nie Huaisang had ordered fresh supplies from the store Nie Mingjue had started frequently after his heart troubles and Meng Yao always cooked things to perfection—but Meng Yao didn’t let him forget that they were in the middle of a seduction.
Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have said that Meng Yao’s fingers rubbing a glass of seltzer would make him uncomfortable in his slacks, but those small, delicate hands were entrancing. Worse, Meng Yao occasionally brushed their feet together. They were both in house slippers and each touch was just sustained enough to be deliberate, but Nie Mingjue was driven to distraction.
As they finished the last bites of their food and Meng Yao had nudged Nie Mingjue into drinking more seltzer—for hydration and ‘endurance,’ heaven help him—Meng Yao grew bolder. The next press of his foot was right between Nie Mingjue’s legs, pressing firmly where his thighs touched. Nie Mingjue parted them immediately, giving Meng Yao access to his interested cock without hesitation, but Meng Yao just pulled back again.
Nie Mingjue sighed, and it felt more like a pant.
“You’d let me touch you at the dinner table,” Meng Yao said, more of a statement than a question. “You’d already be easy for it.”
“Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue protested, a little hoarse.
“You think I can’t read you by now?” Meng Yao asked. “I knew you’d be cute like this.”
“Cute,” Nie Mingjue repeated. What a silly word to describe a successful Alpha company president tall enough to regularly need to duck light fixtures and broad enough to strain most airline seats. It should have been laughable. Instead, there was a heat in Nie Mingjue’s cheeks that would not ease.
“Maybe another night. You still need to clean the dishes,” Meng Yao reminded him, a dimple pressing into one cheek.
With a growl, Nie Mingjue said, “Fuck.” When he quickly grabbed both of their plates, Meng Yao laughed.
After rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher, Nie Mingjue stood by the kitchen table feeling an overwhelming combination of arousal and bewilderment. Were they really going to do this?
“You want this?” he asked, the only question he could think to articulate.
“Yes,” Meng Yao said, setting down his glass and standing up. “Take me to your room.”
The apartment wasn’t big enough for the bedroom to be hard to find, and either way Meng Yao had been there before. Once, when Nie Mingjue had been down with the flu and Nie Huaisang had refused to come within five city blocks, a carefully masked Meng Yao had shown up in his bedroom to pour soup into Nie Mingjue’s throat, tidy up his pile of tissues with gloved hands, and chide him to take his medicine.
Still, taking Meng Yao’s hand and leading him to the bedroom made Nie Mingjue aware of every step, and of the small hand in his own. Meng Yao’s palm was warm and dry, delicate as a bird. Nie Mingjue was relieved he’d made the bed before his trip. With the curtains open, the dark room was lit by the city beyond and overlooked a sea of lights and vague, geometric shapes.
“Good,” Meng Yao said, and then used their joined hands to push Nie Mingjue against the nearest wall. He let himself be maneuvered, pleased with his decision when it earned him Meng Yao’s hand on his neck and their lips pressed together.
Kissing Meng Yao was a bit like trying to debate him. Skilled, subtle, sweeping.
Meng Yao kissed and licked and bit, all seemingly designed to make Nie Mingjue a clumsy second, following his lead.
Nie Mingjue tried to wrest back some control, trying to treat Meng Yao to the same treatment, he failed at every turn. When he tried to control the rhythm of the kiss, Meng Yao darted out his tongue to flick just inside Nie Mingjue’s mouth, making him lose his focus. When Meng Yao let go of his hands to stroke his broad arms, Nie Mingjue tried to cup Meng Yao’s head to angle him, but Meng Yao nipped Nie Mingjue’s lip with such startling force that Nie Mingjue gasped. Meng Yao took advantage of his open mouth to slide his tongue in fully, filling Nie Mingjue with the slick taste of him.
Finally, Nie Mingjue gave up trying to fight. If Meng Yao wanted to spoil him, control every beat of the kiss and drive Nie Mingjue incoherent, Nie Mingjue wasn’t the man to stop him.
Nie Mingjue’s cock was nearly fully hard, and Meng Yao certainly would feel it pressed against him. All of Meng Yao’s tiny movements made Nie Mingjue harder, enough he wondered if he could throw a knot with his trousers still on. He really should have worn something more comfortable on the plane.
When Meng Yao finally pulled back, putting a hand on Nie Mingjue’s chest to stop him from following, Nie Mingjue was out of breath.
“Do you have lube?”
“What?” Nie Mingjue asked, trying to collect his scattered thoughts.
“Lube. Do you have it?”
Considering how their night was going it wasn’t an entirely strange question, but Nie Mingjue was certain that Meng Yao was an omega. Even if they hadn’t talked about it in passing before, the scent in Nie Mingjue’s nose now was unmistakable. He could even smell a hint of slick already, that extra sharpness to Meng Yao’s usual scent that made Nie Mingjue’s mouth water. Meng Yao was getting turned on. Unlike the betas Nie Mingjue had fucked, Meng Yao wouldn’t need the extra help.
It was a stupid thought, and Nie Mingjue chided himself. Not every omega produced slick like a porn star. With Meng Yao’s ongoing medical issues, some from a weak core and others from a violent incident with his father, it wouldn’t be surprising if he appreciated extra lube.
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue said hoarsely. Meng Yao let him go and gestured, so Nie Mingjue crossed the room to take it out of his nightstand. He set the bottle—mostly full, with a convenient pump dispenser—on top and shrugged. “Here. You ready?”
Could Meng Yao see how hard he was from across the room? Walking had been uncomfortable, and he was ready for them both to lose some clothes.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Meng Yao said.
“You could come take them off me,” Nie Mingjue said. Meng Yao would be good with buttons. His narrow fingers were always very effective.
“No,” Meng Yao said. “Show me, Mingjue. Take everything off and fold it neatly on the chair.”
“Are you going to strip too?” Nie Mingjue asked, already reaching up for his tie.
“Maybe later,” Meng Yao said. “Go on.”
Nie Mingjue huffed. He wanted to see the body under those soft clothes. Still, he had never been ashamed of his own body, so he jerked his tie loose and pulled it over his head. He tossed it on the chair and started quickly on his shirt buttons.
“Slower,” Meng Yao said. He was now leaning against the same wall he had shoved Nie Mingjue against, his large, dark eyes firmly on Nie Mingjue.
“Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue said, flustered. Nie Mingjue had asked partners for a strip tease before, when they weren’t just falling into bed together, but it was always playful. Meng Yao looked entirely serious, like Nie Mingjue was putting on a performance just for him, and like Meng Yao had full directorial control.
Meng Yao just waited.
It was not how these things usually went. Meng Yao didn’t want Nie Mingjue to sweep him up and throw him on the bed. From the start, Meng Yao had taken charge. And it was… nice. There were no hands more capable than Meng Yao’s, and the attention made Nie Mingjue’s heart pound. He wanted Meng Yao to look at him, he wanted Meng Yao to approve of him.
Slowly, Nie Mingjue resumed unbuttoning his shirt. He felt every motion—clumsier now than before—and the brush of the fabric against his suddenly alert nipples felt like a tease.
Meng Yao let him work in silence for a long time. Nie Mingjue was very aware of his movements and the calm eyes on him. The lights from the city cast dramatic shadows over the room. Meng Yao looked small and sharp against the wall. Nie Mingjue wondered how he looked. Could Meng Yao see that his hands were trembling slightly? Could he see that Nie Mingjue was now aching in his pants?
Well, Meng Yao was sure to see when Nie Mingjue slid off his trousers and laid them on the chair. His cock tented his green boxers. Nie Mingjue hesitated with his thumbs on the band, watching for Meng Yao’s reaction.
Meng Yao dragged his eyes from Nie Mingjue’s straining erection over Nie Mingjue’s thick stomach and heavy pecs up to his face. The movement of his gaze felt electrified. “Good,” Meng Yao said. “You’re beautiful, you know. I’ve always thought so. Take them off.”
Nie Mingjue stepped out of his boxers and added them to the pile of clothes. “You’re beautiful, too,” Nie Mingjue said, and it felt like a weak response. How was Meng Yao still so composed? Nie Mingjue felt like words were only a vague concept he’d once heard of.
Meng Yao walked closer, but stopped just out of reach. “Touch your cock for me,” he said. “Can your hand close around it? Mine won’t be able to.”
And wasn’t that a thought. “Yeah,” Nie Mingjue said. He grabbed the base of his cock, resisting the urge to buck his hips into the sudden sensation. He was so hard already. “For now, at least.”
“Hm, even your hands aren’t big enough for your knot?” Meng Yao said.
Nie Mingjue could only moan in response. How huge would his knot look in Meng Yao’s hands? He imagined Meng Yao’s clever, small hands stroking it, pressing it. Did Meng Yao like being knotted? Would he let Nie Mingjue fill and fill him?
Unexpectedly, Nie Mingjue found himself wishing fiercely that Meng Yao were an alpha, that Nie Mingjue could get stretched and filled to the brim with him. The thought of Meng Yao’s white teeth on his throat, teasing the possibility of a bite, was so erotic that Nie Mingjue’s cock throbbed under his grip.
Nie Mingjue began to stroke his cock. The sensation sent a tremble through his body, echoing down his legs and up to his neck. His mouth watered, and he swallowed with difficulty. He was breathing loudly, and small moans and gasps kept falling from his lips.
“Meng Yao,” he said, still stroking his cock steadily. He was ready for more, but Meng Yao had told him to touch himself and seemed entranced by watching. He had always loved Meng Yao’s attention, but this new flavor was intoxicating.
“You’re already desperate,” Meng Yao commented. He reached out and rubbed his thumb over the head of Nie Mingjue’s cock. Nie Mingjue shuddered with pleasure. “You’re leaking for me.”
Meng Yao lifted his thumb and rubbed it against Nie Mingjue’s lower lip. He had to stretch his arm up to reach.
Eagerly, without conscious thought, Nie Mingjue let his mouth drop open. With a dimpled smile, Meng Yao slid his thumb into Nie Mingjue’s mouth. The rest of his hand cupped Nie Mingjue’s cheek, brushing his mustache. Watching with rapt, smug attention, Meng Yao stroked Nie Mingjue’s tongue and teeth. The faint trace of his own pre-come faded quickly, leaving only the salty, warm taste of Meng Yao’s skin.
“Please,” Nie Mingjue mumbled around Meng Yao’s thumb. The word was garbled.
“Hm?” Meng Yao asked, not taking his thumb out. He pressed down on Nie Mingjue’s tongue and raised his eyebrows.
“Please,” Nie Mingjue said, even less clear than before.
Meng Yao looked pleased, though. He withdrew his thumb, wiping the slick spit on Nie Mingjue’s face. “Get on the bed, Mingjue. On your back.”
Nie Mingjue obeyed quickly, barely thinking. His heartbeat rushed in his ears. Meng Yao still looked petite even standing over Nie Mingjue sprawled on the bed. He was still fully dressed, crisp as ever. Nie Mingjue felt like art in a museum spread out for Meng Yao’s quiet observation. (Were museums ever this lewd? If they were, it would explain why his brother seemed to go to a new one every week.)
Meng Yao reached out to pet Nie Mingjue’s pec with one hand, gliding first in the direction of Nie Mingjue’s chest hair and then dragging back against it. He cupped his hand, grasping as much of the pec into his palm as he could—some spilled out, fuck his hands were so small—and then squeezing. He watched Nie Mingjue gasp with a smug smile.
Slowly, he dragged his hand down the trail of Nie Mingjue’s hair to his stomach, stroking over the round bulk of him. He ghosted down just far enough to brush the start of Nie Mingjue’s pubic hair, and then pulled away.
He stepped up closer to Nie Mingjue’s face. “Do you know what you want?” he asked.
“You,” Nie Mingjue said desperately.
Meng Yao stroked his forehead and trailed his fingers down to cup Nie Mingjue’s cheek. “There’s not a thought in that gorgeous head of yours right now, is there?”
His tone was a bit teasing, a bit proud. It made Nie Mingjue almost white out with arousal. He made a weak noise of agreement.
“Good,” Meng Yao said.
He stepped to the bedside table and took a pump of the lube onto his fingertips. He hummed thoughtfully and then added another pump. “Spread your legs,” he instructed, climbing onto the bed.
Nie Mingjue couldn’t process the words.
Meng Yao wasn’t deterred. He walked on his knees closer to Nie Mingjue and used the hand without lube to pat Nie Mingjue’s thighs. “Open,” he said. When Nie Mingjue swallowed and let his legs fall open, Meng Yao pushed them further apart and moved to kneel between them. His lube-slick fingers brushed against Nie Mingjue’s hole, wet and cool and electric.
“A-Yao?” Nie Mingjue gasped. His legs twitched, but with Meng Yao between them he couldn’t press them closed.
“Have you done this before?” Meng Yao asked. He stroked Nie Mingjue’s hole gently. He didn’t press inside, but the implication was there in every drag across it.
Nie Mingjue swallowed. “Not—not like this.” He had always been the one to top, coaxing people open around his tongue or fingers or cock. He had never even explored his hole on his own. His cock was plenty interesting—and he was an alpha. His hole wasn’t supposed to be the focus. He wasn’t built for this.
But suddenly, under Meng Yao’s steady eyes and fingers, he desperately wanted to be.
“Good,” Meng Yao said.
“Good?”
Meng Yao lightly ran his fingers over Nie Mingjue’s hard cock, teasing out another gasp. When Nie Mingjue started to breathe out, Meng Yao smoothly slipped a finger into his hole. His hands were as narrow as the rest of him, but the sudden pressure was intensely heady.
“Good,” Meng Yao repeated. “Other people wouldn’t know how to do this right.”
Nie Mingjue let out a shaky, surprised laugh. It was as breathy as his words had been, and trailed off with his unsteady breathing. “Meng Yao,” he said, flooded with affection. “You didn’t invent anal.”
“Hm, I didn’t,” Meng Yao agreed, stroking the insides of Nie Mingjue with the same soft, teasing touch he was giving his cock. It was all so light that it should have felt like nothing, but instead Nie Mingjue felt as though he could do nothing but focus on each small motion. “But no one else would understand what you need. Clearly.”
“Oh?” Nie Mingjue asked, but he was distracted when Meng Yao slid a second finger inside. That was Meng Yao inside of him. Making room for himself. Pressing and bending and opening Nie Mingjue into the shape he desired. Nie Mingjue trembled suddenly, a quivering that went from his scalp to his toes.
Meng Yao changed his grip, pressing Nie Mingjue’s cock firmly against his own soft stomach, caging him in place. After the teasing, it was nearly overwhelming in its firm pleasure. “Breathe,” Meng Yao insisted.
Nie Mingjue obeyed instantly, and the trembling stilled by the third breath.
“You need someone who isn’t afraid to be what you need. You need to be handled, da-ge,” Meng Yao said. “Look at you. You’d let me do anything.” Without warning, he added another finger. There was a true stretch now, not just the faint pressure.
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue breathed. That didn’t feel like enough, and he floundered for what to say. “You’re you,” he decided on finally.
Dimples pressed into Meng Yao’s cheeks. He leaned down and brushed his mouth over Nie Mingjue’s hip, just a soft, warm touch. He sat back up, but his expression stayed soft. “Keep breathing for me and try not to move,” he instructed, and slid his fingers out and back in. On the inward motion, he thrusted a bit deeper, making space for himself inside Nie Mingjue.
Nie Mingjue whined and tried to focus on his breath. It was ragged, but he managed to make it mostly steady. His muscles were unfamiliar with this, and they tried to resist Meng Yao’s careful ministrations.
As ever, Meng Yao was unrelenting when he had a goal. He used the endless patience that made him the best colleague Nie Mingjue had ever had to coax Nie Mingjue’s body to his will.
Slowly, the discomfort turned to a molten pleasure, sinking through Nie Mingjue like lava. He threw his head back and whimpered, unable to control his mouth.
When Meng Yao started to slowly stroke his cock in time with his other hand, Nie Mingjue nearly jolted away from his touch as the pleasure skyrocketed, his hips jerking clumsily. Meng Yao leaned one forearm on Nie Mingjue’s lower stomach, helping hold him down and giving him a new angle on Nie Mingjue’s cock. Nie Mingjue could still buck him off without a thought, but the pressure reminded him to try to keep still.
“A-Yao, please,” Nie Mingjue begged mindlessly.
“Yes?” Meng Yao prompted. He still looking focused and collected, though dimples were pressed into his cheeks.
Nie Mingjue sighed breathily. “Anything, please.”
Meng Yao’s smile blossomed and he was the most beautiful thing Nie Mingjue had ever seen. “I know.”
He pulled his hand away from Nie Mingjue’s cock, and shushed him when Nie Mingjue let out a desperate, pained noise. “I’m here,” Meng Yao reminded him.
Meng Yao reached over for the lube bottle and pumped twice over where his fingers were sliding into Nie Mingjue’s hole. The lube was bracingly cold against his fevered skin, and the sudden extra squelch was deeply erotic.
Surely Nie Mingjue would get Meng Yao’s cock soon. It was still hidden behind his slacks, but Nie Mingjue could smell that Meng Yao was slick now. He was as turned on by this as Nie Mingjue. His cock must have been aching to slide into Nie Mingjue.
Instead, there was a new slight stretch as Meng Yao slipped his pinky inside with the rest of his fingers and pressed in deep enough for his knuckles to nudge against Nie Mingjue’s hole.
Nie Mingjue shifted slightly before obediently falling back to stillness. “A-Yao?” he asked, soft with arousal and confusion.
“I want to see you stretched open for me,” Meng Yao said, pressing his knuckles to Nie Mingjue’s rim with more force. It was overwhelming and incandescent. “Haven’t you liked it? Isn’t this what you do with the others? Don’t you enjoy seeing someone relaxing and submitting so they can take you?”
“Yeah, but none of them…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, mind full of static.
“Showed you how it felt? Knew the potential of seeing you like this?”
“Was you,” Nie Mingjue said.
Meng Yao’s smile was viciously triumphant. He looked at Nie Mingjue like he knew him, like he owned him, and Nie Mingjue wanted to do anything to keep being the recipient of that look. “You don’t want to be filled up by anyone but me,” he said. He added another pump of lube to his hand and then started stroking Nie Mingjue’s cock again. “You look beautiful like this. I knew you would. Breathe in slowly for me. Now breathe out even slower and relax.”
As Nie Mingjue obeyed, Meng Yao tucked his thumb in close and pushed into the lingering resistance. Nie Mingjue’s body finally relaxed enough for him to slide inside, his knuckles stretching Nie Mingjue’s rim impossibly wide before, suddenly, Nie Mingjue found himself with Meng Yao’s hand inside him.
He clenched down on Meng Yao’s thin wrist for one gasping, overwhelmed moment, and then continued with the instructed breathing.
“You’re inside me,” Nie Mingjue said dumbly.
“I am,” Meng Yao said, looking at Nie Mingjue’s stretched rim with possessive triumph. “How does it feel?”
“Full,” Nie Mingjue gasped.
“Good,” Meng Yao said. “Full of me.”
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue agreed, bowled over by every part of it. “It’s so much. So good.”
Meng Yao kept both of his hands still, letting Nie Mingjue tremble and adjust to the feeling.
“I didn’t,” Nie Mingjue said, and stopped to take another breath. “I didn’t know alphas even liked being knotted.”
“You’re not being knotted,” Meng Yao pointed out. “I don’t need a knot to make you come. I don’t need to be an alpha to take you to pieces.” He nudged his hand slightly deeper, pairing it with a steady, firm stroking of his cock. “No one gets to decide if I’m allowed to make you mine, or how. It’s just you and me here.”
Nie Mingjue nodded desperately. “Make me yours,” he said.
“I am,” Meng Yao said, and slowly closed his slender hand into a fist. The irresistible stretch made Nie Mingjue keen quietly, shuddering from head to toe. Meng Yao leaned more firmly onto his hip, keeping him in place.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said. He felt ready to shake apart, but somehow also pinned down and safe. He was out of control with echoing sensation, but Meng Yao was in control. Nie Mingjue only needed to feel. If this experience broke him apart, Meng Yao would put him back together.
“There you go,” Meng Yao said, his fist rocking with a subtle motion that felt like tectonic plates shifting deep inside Nie Mingjue. It was heat and pressure, both building into an intense, all-consuming pleasure that only ratcheted higher. The hand on his cock was only moving slightly, a firm, relentless grip over his swelling knot. “I have you.”
Nie Mingjue trembled, resisting the urge to rock into the dual touch. The pleasure kept building, higher than he even knew it could go.
“You have me,” Nie Mingjue agreed, nearly sobbing.
“I want you to come for me,” Meng Yao said, intense and hungry.
Nie Mingjue nodded eagerly. “Please.” He didn’t know how. Should he not have come already? How could a body hold all of this and still take more? Surely an orgasm would shatter him from this height.
Meng Yao didn’t change the steady rocking of his hands, keeping an unrelenting pulse. “Let me see you. Let go for me.”
“Fuck,” Nie Mingjue said, and closed his eyes.
The pleasure crested and rushed through him like a tsunami, ringing in his ears and glittering through his blood. He felt himself clenching down onto Meng Yao’s fist as he came onto the swell of his own stomach. Meng Yao’s grip on his knot tightened even as his fingers spread to accommodate the full girth.
Nie Mingjue gasped as the waves went on and on. Every inch of Nie Mingjue was warm and full and perfect. It was bliss all over, impossible to resist.
Meng Yao stayed with him throughout, nudging him along to enjoy every crest and peak. When Nie Mingjue thought he was done—he must have been done, there was so much come puddling across his torso—Meng Yao kneaded his knot and coaxed another pulse from his cock.
“Good,” Meng Yao purred, keeping his hand locked on Nie Mingjue’s knot.
“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue gasped, trembling a final time before collapsing back onto the pillow. The orgasm had wrung him past ecstasy into complete satisfaction, loose and easy in every muscle.
“Breath out for me,” Meng Yao instructed, and Nie Mingjue obeyed before realizing Meng Yao had relaxed the hand inside him and was beginning to pull it free. It was vaguely uncomfortable, but Nie Mingjue’s body was too relaxed to resist.
Grumpily, he thought that it wasn’t fair that omegas got to stay knotted for minutes—if not hours—and he was empty already. Still, Meng Yao’s hand on his knot was staying wonderfully tight, tethering Nie Mingjue through the aftermath. Nie Mingjue wasn’t an omega, and Meng Yao knew how to take care of him.
Meng Yao shoved down his loose pants with one hand, the least coordinated he had been all night. He shimmied free of them and kicked them off the edge of the bed. He was left only in his cashmere sweater, which skirted playfully over his cock until Meng Yao moved the fabric aside. His small cock was red and hard, wet at the tip. From the scent in the air, Meng Yao was wet elsewhere too.
“Fuck,” Nie Mingjue said around the sudden burst of drool in his mouth.
“Roll onto your side,” Meng Yao instructed, taking a pump of lube and coating his cock liberally. “Legs together for me.”
“But I…” Nie Mingjue said, licking his bottom lip and looking up at Meng Yao pleadingly.
Meng Yao just twirled a finger. Too sated to be more than mildly disappointed not to get to taste Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue shuffled over. He didn’t know Meng Yao’s plan, but the rest of the night had worked out just fine that way.
Meng Yao moved with him, keeping his knot held tight as he maneuvered to spoon behind Nie Mingjue. His soft sweater and softer skin were enchanting pressed so close.
Nie Mingjue gasped when Meng Yao’s hot, slick cock slid between his thighs.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said dumbly. His hips twitched weakly, but Meng Yao’s grasp on his knot was too firm for him to go far. Instead, he stayed still, turned on his side, letting Meng Yao use his thick thighs. Meng Yao rocked in slowly at first, but picked up speed quickly. He made small noises into the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck, sighs and bitten-off groans that were like music.
Even though Meng Yao had coaxed every bit of come from him earlier—the mess of which was now dripping down onto his duvet cover—Nie Mingjue panted from how erotic it was to feel Meng Yao sliding between his thighs. He had never fucked someone’s thighs before, certainly had never let someone push between his before, but it was hard to believe he had been missing this.
Meng Yao’s cock brushed Nie Mingjue’s spent balls occasionally, close but far from Nie Mingjue’s swollen hole. How would it feel to have Meng Yao’s cock inside him? Would he be loose from the ridges of Meng Yao’s fist? Maybe if Meng Yao’s aim faltered he would slip right in, giving Nie Mingjue that warm, slick cockhead inside.
Nie Mingjue groaned with strangled arousal—his cock wouldn’t be able to get hard for at least another hour, but he was floaty with desire nonetheless.
“Desperate,” Meng Yao panted, thrusting harder. “I can feel your knot twitching in my hand. Do you wish you had more come for me? You’d be soaking me right now if you could.”
“Yeah,” Nie Mingjue whined. “Fuck, a-Yao. Please give it to me. I want to feel you, please.”
Meng Yao’s sharp little teeth clamped down on the meat of Nie Mingjue’s shoulder as he started to come, pulsing hot and wet between Nie Mingjue’s thighs. The come mixing with the lube and sweat made the last mindless thrusts even slicker than before.
Nie Mingjue was going to be an absolute mess. He loved it.
When Meng Yao was done, he guided Nie Mingjue onto his back with the fussy insistence he did everything, and then draped against his side so they could look at each other.
“Do you need a knot inside now? Like me?” Nie Mingjue asked blearily, gesturing to the way Meng Yao was gripping his knot and then waving his fingers to show what he was offering.
“No,” Meng Yao said.
Did Meng Yao not feel the same compulsion as Nie Mingjue to finish sex with at least a quarter-hour of knotting? He must not have—if Meng Yao’s hole ached as much as Nie Mingjue’s knot, Nie Mingjue had made it obvious he was there for Meng Yao’s taking. Meng Yao could have had a knot or fingers or fist or tongue inside without needing to ask.
Maybe it was Nie Mingjue who was the unusual one, making Meng Yao follow tradition when he clearly preferred to act against it.
“Do you, uh, need help with my knot?” Nie Mingjue asked. “If your grip is tired?”
“My grip is fine,” Meng Yao said, squeezing lightly to prove it. Nie Mingjue gasped, shuddering, at the sparkle of pleasure. “Stop thinking.”
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said. It wasn’t an unusual order to get from Meng Yao, who had always been able to tug Nie Mingjue away from his own towering emotions even during the days they had been nearly impassably large. If Meng Yao was here, it was safe for Nie Mingjue to let go of his worries. “Okay.” He sighed, letting go of the last of his tension and enjoying the warm weight of Meng Yao tucked beside him in his bed.
Meng Yao tilted his head to examine the place he had left on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder, smug dimples pressing into his cheeks. “That will leave a mark,” he said.
“Good,” Nie Mingjue said. He would look in the morning. Maybe take some pictures to preserve the moment. Was it too soon to ask that next time Meng Yao aim a bit higher and bond him with a mating bite?
“I’ll get a washcloth when your knot goes down. It’s too late for a shower,” Meng Yao said. “We’ll take a bath in the morning. Your tub is big enough.”
“You’ll sleep here?” Nie Mingjue asked, hopeful.
“Of course,” Meng Yao said, as though it were a foregone conclusion. “It’s a three-day weekend. I’ll stay until Monday afternoon.”
“Yes, please,” Nie Mingjue said.
Meng Yao’s smile was soft and affectionate. “You don’t need to be surprised. You’re not getting rid of me so easily now that I’ve had you.”
“Good,” Nie Mingjue said, and settled in to enjoy the afterglow.