Work Text:
"Wenwen, don't throw your food," Shang Qinghua says weakly, right as his rambunctious infant grabs a fistful of congee and throws it with her chubby baby arms at her older brother, spattering porridge all over herself and the floor. To Shang Yixi's credit, he barely blinks; he just shields his colouring book and crayons with an arm, congee in his hair.
Shang Yiwen decides to alternate between throwing the food and smearing it all over herself while Shang Qinghua spot-cleans his only son with a damp towel. He whisks away the half-eaten bowl from her high chair and she grins at him with her handful of baby teeth.
It's hard to stay angry with her, her big brown eyes shining with delight and her little strands of fine, pin-straight black hair all askew. Being worn out is, unfortunately, easier. Shang Qinghua retrieves a container of food from the fridge, lovingly labelled by the chef with ingredients and the cooking date. "Are you hungry?"
Mobei Jun sits across the marble island and plaits their eldest daughter's hair with the same wordless efficiency that he does everything else. His eyes flick briefly between his meticulous work and the container. Shang Yijie brandishes one of her dinosaur toys and tries to pull away to show her brother, seemingly forgetting that her hair is wound around her father's fingers. Strong hands steady the seven year old by the shoulders like second nature.
"I can do that," Mobei Jun says, "go and take your bath."
He doesn't need to be told twice. He leaves their three — still alarmingly energetic — children in Mobei Jun's hands, beats feet to the bathroom, and tries not to dwell on how hard it's going to be to get them to fall asleep.
As soon as he shuts the door to the master bedroom, everything is far away. The penthouse is big enough that the noise from the kitchen is only a low rumble; by the time he's in the ensuite, he can hardly hear anything at all. He kicks off his indoor slippers and curls his toes into the plush bath mat.
Shang Qinghua messily re-styles his bun which has been gradually coming loose all day to keep his hair out of the water. He tosses his clothes in a careless pile and slides gratefully into the bath, warm water and fragrant bubbles coming up to his chest.
He’s barely been in the bath for five minutes when the muted thud of running feet and muffled giggling pass by outside the bedroom door. Shang Qinghua sinks down into the water until it reaches the bottom of his nose. Suspicious… but not his problem. He closes his eyes and luxuriates in the warm water and steamy air. The cheerful scent of orange blossom wafts into the air every time he moves. His hand drifts between his legs without even thinking, his knees bracing against either side of the tub. The bath water caresses his bare skin so sweetly; it's even better when he spreads his folds with two fingers, the warm tickle against his cunt dripping heat down his legs to his toes like hot wax.
He sags back with a hum, his tension seeping out of him and into the water. Yiwen is just starting to walk, now, and she's becoming a handful; maybe that's why he and Mobei Jun have struggled to be intimate recently, why his personal needs make themselves known the moment he gets one iota of peace. Or maybe it's because, by the time Shang Yijie and Shang Yixi were this age, he was already pregnant with the next. Maybe his body is demanding routine, even though three is more than enough.
He gives it fingers instead. Shang Qinghua slides two fingers into his aching cunt and lets out a soft, husky breath, covering his mouth with a damp palm in an attempt to muffle his excited moans.
He caresses his soft belly then palms at his chest, just like Mobei Jun does. They used to fuck for hours when he was pregnant. He takes a third finger easily, then a fourth, until he's fucking almost his full hand; it's the most he can reach, even though he still craves more. The water laps rhythmically at the side of the bath as he plunges his fingers in and out of his soft cunt, and it sounds like more than just water against porcelain, almost akin to the wet clap of Mobei Jun's skin on his skin as he—
Shang Qinghua bites his lip and arches up in the water, hips rocking and toes curling. He grinds against the heel of his hand and comes with barely more than a whimper, his pussy hungrily clenching around his fingers as though they were something else with which he’s lovingly familiar.
Sobriety sets in with the cooling of the water. He rests his arms on the sides of the bathtub, his fingers dripping onto the mat, and stares at the ceiling. He feels satisfied, but not sated; if anything, coming to his hand has made him more aware of what he's been missing.
When Shang Qinghua steps out of the en suite, it’s quiet. Too quiet. It'd be a miracle in itself if Mobei Jun had been able to get the children into bed in the time it had taken Shang Qinghua to bathe – but he can’t even hear the low rumble of bedtime stories from down the hall, and the possibility that his three kids have fallen dead asleep in that time is damn near impossible.
He lets his hair down and pokes his head into the hallway, but all he can hear are the muted sounds of someone in the kitchen. He tosses his towel onto the bed and shrugs on one of Mobei Jun's soft, oversized shirts that hangs down just to the curve of his ass. This definitely bears investigating.
But before he can investigate, the mystery comes to him. Heavy footsteps approach and Mobei Jun enters the room, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His eyes immediately zero in on Shang Qinghua's unclothed ass. He shuts the door with a soft click.
Shang Qinghua feigns nonchalance as he twists his damp hair into a thick braid. Mobei Jun watches from the doorway, one hand still on the handle. He hasn't yet changed out of his work clothes, and his perfectly tailored Italian suit trousers stretch, just the right amount, over his broad thighs.
Shang Qinghua reaches for his underwear drawer.
"Wait," Mobei Jun shoots immediately, his tone clipped. Shang Qinghua's stomach flips.
"...the kids?" he says slowly. Frozen, like he’s caught in the gaze of a wild animal.
"They're at my mother's," Mobei Jun says, then adds: “All weekend.”
Shang Qinghua winces. Mobei Jun's mother is an indomitable woman, ten times as terrifying as her son. And a single grandparent, to boot. Shang Qinghua can pretty much guarantee that, this weekend, the kids will be getting anything and everything they want.
"Now we have plenty of time to work on the next one."
His body reacts with enthusiasm. His sensible brain reacts with horror. Or, okay, maybe a bit less than that. But pregnancy is hard! He should know, he's already done it three times! It's gonna take some convincing, maybe even begging!
"We can afford it," Mobei Jun says offhand, with the confidence of a man born richer than god.
That's not the point! Shang Qinghua thinks, but even now he knows that he is but sand beneath the tide. Mobei Jun unbuckles his belt slowly and deliberately from across the room.
Okay, that's enough convincing. If his reasonable brain shuts off when Mobei Jun glowers at him like that, if his legs automatically open when Mobei Jun discards his belt with a flick of the wrist and lunges for him, if his ankles immediately lock behind Mobei Jun's back and hold him there, he can't be blamed.
No one could accuse Mobei Jun of being gentle, but Shang Qinghua loves the rough palm that shoves up his oversized shirt and clasps his thick waist like a cat sinking in its claws. He scrambles to pull the shirt over his head and toss it out of sight while Mobei Jun kneads at him hungrily, clutching at his ass, his thighs, the silvery stretch marks on his belly. He lies under his husband's weight like prey, ensnared and waiting to be devoured; a cool mouth fastens to one nipple and teases until he squirms, his chest flushed from Mobei Jun's nipping teeth.
Two fingers push into his pussy without warning, drawing a high-pitched noise from him, equal parts surprise and lust. Mobei Jun goes still. The heel of his hand brushes ever so slightly against Shang Qinghua's chubby cock and his whole body jerks like he's been shocked, his cock still extra sensitive from touching himself in the bath.
Mobei Jun lets out a low, slow breath. "So that's what you were doing, hm?" he mutters.
Shang Qinghua shudders, trying to find the wherewithal to speak when Mobei Jun is knuckles deep between his spread legs. "I, ah, didn't expect–"
Mobei Jun throws him a withering look and, fuck, why is that so hot. He clenches involuntarily and Mobei Jun huffs a laugh. He gives Shang Qinghua's hole two short, parting strokes before removing his fingers and brusquely wiping them on the bed sheets. Egyptian cotton. Sateen. 800 count.
The few seconds it takes for Mobei Jun to disrobe have Shang Qinghua clutching at those same sheets, practically crying with anticipation. He can hardly call himself a beleaguered housewife, with all the luxury and paid help that money can buy, but it's still not easy to find time alone with his husband with three young children. When was the last time he was able to indulge to the fullest, screaming his lungs out until he was satisfied?
When Mobei Jun grabs his ankles and drags him to the edge of the bed, he isn't even fully undressed. Something about that tickles Shang Qinghua's brain even more. His shirt is open to the waist and his fly undone, his hard cock peeking out above the waistband of his boxers, but that's all. Shang Qinghua is naked as the day he was born.
"Qinghua," Mobei Jun murmurs, spreading Shang Qinghua's folds with his thumb so he can get a good view of his tiny hole, "did you really think Yiwen would be the last?"
He runs his palms up Shang Qinghua's inner thighs. "Or… perhaps you hoped she would be."
"No," Shang Qinghua responds immediately with a punched out gasp, wiggling his hips. He's on fire with the truth of it, with the burning desire to be fucked, bred, pregnant again with Mobei Jun's child. Children. As many as you want, a big family.
Mobei Jun inhales sharply. Towering over him, he's all that Shang Qinghua can see, and all that matters; he's practically writhing with need, and when Mobei Jun throws his entire weight behind his first thrust, Shang Qinghua arches with a shout.
He doesn't bother to hold himself back, his pleasured cries echoing through the empty penthouse. Mobei Jun fucks like his sole mission is hunting Shang Qinghua's orgasms for sport, sweat beading in the hollow of his throat. His cock pounds Shang Qinghua raw until both their thighs are soaked with their fluids.
Shang Qinghua palms his soft chest and squirms. "Husband, ah... husband, please, hnn-need-nnn... I need it, please..."
"Fuck, Qinghua, baobei... you want me to fuck you full of cum, want me to breed you until you can’t move? Qinghua, do you want to carry my children?”
"Yes!" Shang Qinghua wails with all the force his tired lungs can muster, a warm, jittery anticipation building in his core. He clutches at Mobei Jun's loose shirt, his sleeves, anything, until his husband shoves him down once again onto his back.
Mobei Jun grabs his splayed legs and brings his knees to his chest, pressing him flat with his great bulk. His hips snap sharply, nailing Shang Qinghua into the mattress with every thrust until he's wailing and clinging to his shoulders. This new angle, and the friction against his little cock now trapped between the desperate slide of their bodies, has his legs shaking, toes curling. Mobei Jun buries his face in Shang Qinghua's neck, his heated breath landing just beneath his ear.
Split in half, immobilised, and completely without leverage, all Shang Qinghua can do is take whatever Mobei Jun gives, and the thought of it makes his eyes roll. He grapples at Mobei Jun's back and comes with a feeble yell, trying to pull him closer, closer, even though there's not an inch of space between them.
The final closeness he's craving comes not long after with a feral cry. Shang Qinghua is pretty sure Mobei Jun is even biting the bedsheets when he finally orgasms.
"Yes, ah, yes," Shang Qinghua whimpers, his voice trembling. Mobei Jun's release warms him from the inside, kept there by his cock – but, once he pulls out, Shang Qinghua will get the pleasure of cum dribbling out of him, of feeling well-fucked and well-bred.
But that's not for now. Neither of them make any attempt to move, Mobei Jun's cock safely nestled between Shang Qinghua's walls.
After all, the children are gone all weekend.