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Their first vacation away from the twins was also--thanks to an inconsiderately early heat cycle and that zero-point-something failure rate of the pill--their pairing-celebration. They had put off the ceremony for months, but at a certain point Raven was bound to throw them out for a weekend with a vaguely-reassuring promise concerning her ability to operate a bottle.
As excited as they were for the weekend, Erik knew it wouldn't exactly be as simple as leaving the house. At six months, Erik was finally trusting Lorna and Anya not to vanish in the middle of the night or perish the minute they were out of his sight. Unfortunately, he also still had an alpha's prerogative to text or call Raven every hour, to make certain they hadn't perished or vanished in the middle of the night.
Charles often had a distant expression, as if he was keeping a close telepathic eye on the apartment. But that nervousness, that tension of being away--that wasn't what Erik was seeing, now.
All through dinner, Charles seemed distracted, uncomfortable in some manner. At first Erik thought it was some sort of--shyness, maybe--on Charles's part. He hadn't quite lost the weight of pregnancy, his hips and belly rounded and soft under his dress shirt and trousers, and Erik let his thoughts dwell on how perfectly lovely and beautiful Charles looked.
We shan't make it though dinner with thoughts like that, Charles sent. The tone of his mind was all amusement, as happy and content as he'd been all day. But there was still a trace of discomfort there, in the back of Charles's consciousness. Reaching over, Erik put his hand on Charles's arm.
"Are you feeling well?"
"Darling, I'm fine," Charles said, smiling in that tolerant way he had whenever Erik had given in to some outdated alpha instinct. Flustered, Erik pulled back to study the menu again. He adored Charles as he was--one of those progressive, openly dominant omegas--and Erik hated to come across as some throwback.
Charles pushed the menu down.
"You're concerned," Charles said, patiently. "That's normal. I appreciate it, love." Let's just wait until after dinner, he thought, I promise it'll keep until then. Now, has Raven texted back?
Charles seemed to be enjoying himself, and the chance to have a quiet dinner together didn't happen every day.
But through the dinner, that tug of discomfort was still there. By the time they were back in the hotel room, Charles was clearly in some pain.
The moment the door was locked behind them, protective-alpha stereotype or not, Erik was guiding Charles to sit back on the bed and openly worrying at him.
"What is the matter? You're hurting. Are you sick?"
To his surprise, Charles shakily began unbuttoning his shirt.
"It's nothing so serious," he said, his mind projecting quiet embarrassment. Erik looked away, flushing at the sight of Charles's engorged chest, the small damp spots marring his undershirt.
Having twins had certainly affected their sex life. Right after the birth, Charles had been recovering. After that, they were more often than not too exhausted to do more than pass out at night. Still, they had made love since. Erik was fond of the new curves on Charles's body as he had been when riding him, heavy during his pregnancy.
He wasn't sure how to address this, however.
Nursing was generally more difficult for male omegas than it was for females. Many just left off and bottle-fed. But Charles had always enjoyed a challenge. They had to supplement with formula, having twins, but by now Charles had certainly developed in ways that left Erik uncertain of how to feel.
The gradual development of gland structure usually left male omegas sore, but Erik wondered if it wasn't the change to body image that made them wary of nursing.
Erik knew Charles had seen that he still was very much interested in every part of Charles's body. That wasn't why Erik was so flustered.
He just hoped Charles was oblivious to the extent of his interest in the changes.
"I'm, ah, sorry," Charles was saying, shyly moving to hide the dampness on his shirt. "I neglected to consider--"
Erik interrupted, not liking the uncertainty in Charles's voice, asking what he could do.
"Go back in time and remind me to buy a pump," Charles says. A little thrill runs down Erik's back.
He tries not to picture it in too much detail.
"You're, um…" Erik trails off, not sure how to finish the thought.
"Engorged," Charles finishes, smiling ruefully. "Yes. Between the girls, I never thought I'd have this problem." He shifts, obviously uncomfortable.
"It's painful," Erik says, and Charles winces a little as if in answer.
It's miserable, Charles sends, I do apologize, love. A romantic night away, and I merely find myself wishing to hear the twins crying.
For a moment, Erik hesitates. This is his omega, his partner; Erik knows the depths of his rather infinite patience, and doubts there's much that will truly phase him. But to actually desire this, for Erik to want to--to take Charles's nipple into his mouth and nurse… It's not the sort of kink Erik would care to admit.
But to see Charles nervous of how Erik sees him, aching and in pain--Erik would admit to anything, just to see him comfortable again.
Taking in one nervous breath, Erik blurts it out before his courage leaves him.
"I could do it."
Charles just blinks.
Swallowing, Erik hopes he won't have to spell it entirely out. "There's too much milk, right? I could, well," Erik gestures awkwardly, somewhere at the general vicinity of Charles's chest.
He feels a spike of shock from Charles's mind, and wishes he could read him further. Wishes he knew if the shock was based in revolt.
"You needn't--" Charles started, but having come this far, Erik couldn't back down.
"It's not a problem," he interrupts. "I would like to."
"Ah."
"Help you, I mean," Erik blusters. But Charles is looking at him, speculative, and Erik feels his pulse jump as Charles shrugs off his dress shirt entirely.
If you're certain, then, Charles is thinking, I would appreciate your assistance. As shy as he'd seemed when he was only unbuttoning his shirt, Charles undresses entirely without self-consciousness, in the manner of a man who has recently spent some time being prodded by a midwife. His clothes are folded and placed off on the small chair near the bed, and Erik watches the businesslike motions with interest. Having children and being together this long--certainly they were a bit past the "discovering your partner's body" phase of the relationship. Erik was nearly as familiar with Charles's body as he was with his own, and he was no less interested for it, watching the pale smooth lines of Charles's backside as he moved.
"You coming, then," Charles asked, pulling back the bedspread. Luckily, this was one of those hotels that took heating couples. A little more expensive, but they were guaranteed bedding that had been through a sterilizer. And no one will blink if we leave a mess, ourselves, Erik's mind traitorously supplied.
Looking away from the tempting curve of Charles's ass--was that a little slickness he'd just seen?--Erik began stripping down, hanging his suit jacket over the back of the chair. "Should I," Erik asked, hands on the button of his trousers, when he'd finished stripping off his shirts. He wasn't sure if this would be sexual for Charles, or just relief. He wasn't sure if Charles would even want the hint that it might be sexual for Erik.
Already arranged against the headboard, Charles sighed. "Yes, of course you should," he said impatiently. One hand rubbed idly, high on his chest, and Charles made a pained face. Erik hurriedly shucked off the remainder of his clothes, trying to distract himself from the sight of a bead of milk forming at one of Charles's engorged nipples.
Charles's chest really did look uncomfortable. His recently-formed small breasts were mostly gland, Charles had said, so they usually looked firm. But right now they were swollen, the skin on his chest shiny and taut and blueish with the network of veins obvious, his nipples hard and wet.
When Erik climbed into bed beside Charles, his cock was already half-erect. He could still explain it away as just wanting Charles, and not some creepy fixation on that little drip of fluid that had just fell from Charles's breast.
Now that he was here, though, he wasn't certain what to do. Glancing between Charles's face and his chest, Erik asked.
"Mmm, I suppose it's not as easy as just sucking," Charles allowed. The words sent another little thrill through Erik's body. "But you could get started by coming here."
Uncertain still, Erik leaned over Charles's body. They were still face-to-face, and he kissed Charles to cover for his indecision, one of his own hands sliding up the pleasant softness of Charles's belly to cup one of those turgid breasts.
Oh, that's lovely, Charles sent, moaning into the kiss, but--ah, careful!--but I need your mouth a little lower for this to work, love.
Erik had moaned into the kiss in response, partially because a small spray of body-warm milk had caught his palm when he'd carelessly squeezed at Charles's breast. I won't get empty unless-- I mean, it's a little more comfortable for me, if you would-- Charles's thoughts trailed off, a hint of embarrassment still in them. Erik didn't feel any less shy as he sent back yes and began mouthing down the slope of Charles's neck.
Adjusting himself for this was certainly--unusual. Charles was leaning against the headboard, and Erik at first moved to lay on his stomach, facing him head-on. Charles nudged at his mind, encouraging him to move so he was at more of an angle.
While Charles had always liked his nipples played with during sex, Erik couldn't remember a time he'd ever been this focused on someone's chest. And certainly, he'd never been so close to the newly-changed chest of a nursing omega. It would feel more strange, if the smell of Charles's body--even the smell of his milk, given how often Erik had it spat over him by one of the girls--wasn't so pleasantly familiar, the pulse of his love so obvious in Erik's mind. Charles was tracing his fingers, hesitantly at first, through Erik's hair.
But soon, he cupped the back of Erik's head, groaning as Erik pressed a kiss against his nipple. Even should he want to, Erik couldn't back up now, the press of Charles's hand firm. "Please," Charles whispered.
"Let me know if I hurt you," Erik murmured. He'd seen Charles wince enough times nursing the girls to know it wasn't always a pleasant experience.
"You'll be fine, just so long as you actually--oh."
He wasn't sure exactly what to do, but the basics were obvious enough. Parting his lips over the tight skin, Erik pulled Charles's nipple into his mouth. Hard against his tongue, Erik tried sucking at it gently, the taste of the milk already on Charles's nipple quickly dissipating.
It was arousing, sucking on Charles like this. It was becoming apparent that Charles agreed, Erik felt his cock stirring against the hand Erik let drape on Charles's lap.
But--Erik angled his head, kept sucking, a little firmer, but still mindful of how sore Charles was. But nothing was happening, and soon Charles pressed at him.
"That's not quite it," Charles said, moving to rub with his free hand at the hardened skin right above where Erik was sucking. "Open your mouth a little more. You need to suck, you can't just lick me."
I am not just licking, Erik thought at him, but he obliged, taking more of the areola into his mouth.
"Now, suck and pull down a little," Charles commanded. "Not too fast."
Moving his mouth like he thought Charles wanted, soon he heard firmer and that's too fast, and he wondered how infants survived at all if nursing was this difficult. It was a little frustrating, particularly having Charles's discomfort in his mind, to feel that hard engorged flesh filling his mouth with no release. He began to feel foolish for suggesting this at all, but at Charles's command, he flattened out his tongue and kept trying, sucking in rhythmic pulls.
The first sign was Charles's hand tightening in his hair. Erik thought nothing of it at first, working Charles's breast, until Charles let out a soft little sigh. It wasn't an unfamiliar noise, and he felt the relief of let-down hum through their connection as the first drops of milk hit his tongue.
That's it, Charles was thinking, Oh, yes. Thank you, Erik--
The message wasn't necessary. Charles's milk was warm, thin and watery in Erik's mouth. He swallowed, and tried not to moan.
The taste wasn't unpleasant, though Erik couldn't describe it. And soon, it was changing anyway--he felt Charles press down on his breast, helping the milk out, and the milk felt thicker and heavier. Charles was cradling his head close, humming with contentment.
It was intimate, perhaps one of the most intimate experiences of Erik's life. At first, concentrating on his technique, Erik couldn't think of anything but the rhythm of suck, pull, swallow. But soon he'd fallen into the routine, and he could reflect on everything. The relief he felt, second-hand. The way Charles's milk kept flowing against his tongue. The rub of the tip of Charles's nipple against his tongue, the erect tissue leaking deliciously. The slow softening of Charles's breast. The steady scratch of Charles's fingers against his scalp, the absentminded way he stroked over Erik's hair and skin, thinking things like my darling and what luck I have, such a lovely alpha.
Soon enough, Erik was moaning, his mouth filled with Charles.
"You do like this, don't you," Charles murmured. Drinking Charles's milk, groaning into his breast and by now fully hard, Erik couldn't exactly deny it. He was glad he had something to hide against as he sent reluctant agreement into their connection.
Naturally, Charles chose then to pull back and let go do Erik's head. Erik drew back slowly.
"Sorry," he said. Charles shivered a little--Erik had neglected to account for what a breath against damp skin could do--and squeezed at his shoulder.
Don't apologize, Charles thought. Don't ever apologize for doing something so perfectly lovely.
Perfectly selfish, Erik thinks, but when he finally looks up, Charles is flushed and looking down at him with obvious desire. Erik sits up slowly, still dazed from the experience, and lets Charles pull him into another kiss. His cock presses against Charles's, and his hips thrust helplessly.
Erik laughs, eager despite the disappointment of being pulled off Charles's breast. "This why you made me stop?"
"Not at all," Charles says, grinning. "I was just beginning to feel a little lopsided," and he tugs again at Erik's hair.
"Ah," Erik says, intelligently, but before he can get his mouth on Charles's other breast, Charles has held him back again.
Erik groans. Tease.
"Hmm, let me see you," Charles says, pushing a little at Erik's chest. Reluctantly sitting back on his heels, Erik wonders what Charles is intending.
He doesn't have to wait long. Charles's hands are soon on his heavy prick, cupping the base.
Erik has to admit to having a bit of a fetish for being appraised like this, for Charles playing with him like he was merely for breeding. His back itches with sweat.
"You're going to knot up, I think," Charles declares.
Like omegas and slick production, knotting outside of heat is something that's different for every alpha. Only rarely does it happen for Erik when Charles isn't putting off those addictive hormones; he's only knotted Charles once or twice since the twins were born. He doesn't know how Charles can tell so easily when he's about to--there's little outward sign, maybe the slightest difference in the thickness of the base of his cock. Erik lets out a breathless curse.
"Do you want your knot in me, when you come?" Charles asks. "Or would you like my hands, squeezing it out of you like milk--"
"Charles," Erik growls, as Charles grips him tightly and pulls.
His cock swells.
"In me, I think. Go on, get the lube," Charles says, letting him go and leaning back again.
"Can I still--" Erik begins, and flushes.
Finish the thought, darling, Charles commands, taking the lube from where Erik floated it over to him.
"I can't," Erik breathes, watching Charles lift a leg and work his fingers in. There is the slightest sheen of slick, darkening the whorls of hair around Charles's hole.
Thrusting two fingers up inside himself, Charles bites his lip. Oh, but I believe you can. And if you want your knot in me, I believe you will.
Erik's nearly panting. He'll need to get his cock in Charles soon, if he's going to get it in that tight hole at all--already, he's thickening up. "Can I still--could I still help you," he finishes. Charles frowns at the euphemism.
"Do ask nicely." Charles is up to three fingers, and Erik fidgets, wondering if he should lube up. Charles lets out a frustrated little noise of displeasure, from waiting or from the still-present discomfort in in left breast, and Erik needs him.
Let me have your milk, he thinks desperately.
"Aloud, please."
"Charles, this is--" he wants to refuse, but Charles is squeezing out a little more lube, reaching for his cock. Having his knot worked down with Charles's hands--it's always a little painful, it doesn't ever feel like the knot gets entirely completed. Biology, really. The reflection to the complex of glands right inside Charles's opening, that makes the need to knot so imperative during heat.
Erik likes it sometimes, that feeling that Charles owns his knot and can do what he likes with it, but it's not what Erik wants now.
"Please allow me," he moans out, feeling Charles's hands glide slick over him, "to knot you, Charles." Charles hums approval, but raises his eyebrow, waiting for more.
"And nurse you," Erik finishes, mumbling the words.
Oh, yes, Charles thinks, brightly. The twist of humiliation is all the more pleasant, with Charles pulling him down immediately. Yes, on all counts.
His cock slides in easy, Charles guiding him with one hand. Charles moans his pleasure, and Erik's soon thrusting wildly into that slick heat. His cock thickens, the knot growing wider and wider until he tugs back once and feels that sweet sensation of being tied.
"Good boy," Charles says, smiling when Erik shudders at the words. At least Charles's voice is unsteady. "Now, come here."
Once knotted, particularly outside of heat, his come might be leaking slow over hours. He's already delirious with the beginning of the gradual swell of orgasm building in him, and he's tugged easily and willingly down to Charles's still-swollen breast.
His suckling this time is at first frenzied, rhythmless. Charles shushes him, uses his mind to ease Erik into a gentler pace that lets milk flow easy into his mouth.
Undoubtedly, it's one of the kinkier things they've done. Charles's mind is almost vibrating with the pleasure of it, though, and Erik distantly realizes that the omega's probably high on hormones at this point. Charles has gone on about how oxytocin is released in knotting alphas, too, but what Erik's experiencing is nothing compared the sheer amount that's got to be coursing through Charles's blood right now.
Hips rocking in gentle thrusts, Erik keeps sucking. Looped into Charles's sensations, he's also becoming mindless in the pleasure of it. His cock is leaking slow into Charles, cum spurting whenever Charles tightens back on him; at the same time, the taste of Charles's milk is thick in his throat. It's easily twenty minutes before Charles gently strokes his cheek, thinking enough-- please-- at him; and Erik pulls off to focus on his thrusts, on taking Charles's erection in his hand and pumping him slowly.
The intimacy is almost shocking. He watches Charles's face as he makes love to him, speeds up when Charles presses encouragingly at Erik's ass. Charles's eyes are dilated hugely, when they kiss, his mouth is nearly ice-cold. His thoughts are a blur of desire and comfort and love, and when Charles finally comes over Erik's fingers, he sobs in relief. Erik gently strokes him through it, until he feels the hint of discomfort in Charles at the touch.
Nearly in a stupor, Charles barely stirs when Erik moves slightly to swipe at him with a corner of sheet. Erik nuzzles at his neck, feeling pretty contented himself.
"Mmm," Charles eventually manages. His hips move, experimentally, and Erik lets out a disapproving sound.
"Just checking," Charles mutters, petting lazily at Erik's flank. Erik sighs against his omega's skin, rolls his hips to work the knot deeper again. He's too drowsy to thrust, and though he's shrunk down a little and Charles might be able to pull off now, staying like this is wonderful. The knot is still emptying into Charles. It feels good, arousing. There's no danger of more twins, either, Charles being outside of heat.
Charles laughs soundlessly, hands still wandering over whatever he can reach of Erik. "Yes, I'm quite fond of these two," he says, "But two is more than enough."
Mumbling his agreement, Erik's nuzzling has taken him close, again, to Charles's chest.
I suppose I'll have to work on my milk production again, Charles thought, and Erik pulled back guiltily.
"No," Charles said, quickly. Both hands were on the back of Erik's head, now, guiding him back into a kiss. It's fine, darling. It felt good, he confirms, reflecting a little of his own memory of when Erik took his first successful pull of milk. I liked sharing this with you. And though I may not to be able to often, I look forward to it again.
Erik smiled and kissed Charles, thought carefully of his own gratitude and adoration. Perhaps he was more high on oxytocin than he thought.
Go on, then, Charles thought.
"Go on and what," Erik asked.
You think these are empty?
Erik chuckled against Charles's skin. Maybe it was a little strange, but in the moment, there was nothing that felt more right than this, dozing off tied to Charles, and nursing at his chest.