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Little.
Khaotung rolls over carefully, his head landing softly against First’s chest.
It won’t take long. Khaotung knows it’s only a matter of seconds before his eyes open, before the firmness of his hands wraps gently around Khaotung’s body, and his lips brush over every stray strand of hair scattered across his head.
Little.
A soft flush colors Khaotung’s cheeks as his hand moves over First’s, holding the long fingers tightly while he slowly guides them across the soft of his belly.
Little.
Khaotung can’t help the shy giggle that slips from his mouth as First’s hand traces shapeless patterns around his belly button.
“Morning,” his hoarse voice dances softly against Khaotung’s ear. His kind, gentle hand still moves along Khaotung’s belly; utterly unaware of the little secret lying within.
Khaotung smiles sheepishly at the thought, still clueless about how to bring the news to First.
“Good morning,” Khaotung murmurs, a small smile forming on his lips as he pecks First’s mouth; the dryness of both their lips fitting together like a puzzle.
First glances down at where Khaotung’s head rests sweetly against his chest. His hand still moves softly over his own belly between them. His eyes catch the mellow light slipping through the curtains, and a faint blush colors his cheeks.
“You look shy,” First mumbles, tucking a strand of hair behind Khaotung’s ear.
Khaotung’s eyes never leave him. His lips glisten under First’s gaze as he wets them out of habit.
“Why are you shy, Tung?” First’s voice comes warm against his skin as he presses a kiss to Khaotung’s forehead, his hand brushing over the soft line of his chin.
There’s no verbal answer as Khaotung shifts on First’s chest, pulling away little by little until his head lands on one of the pillows; an obvious cue for First to move too.
His head falls softly against Khaotung’s chest as Khaotung’s hand moves purposefully through his hair, guiding him toward the small swell of his nipples.
“Do you want me to lick these two?” First’s voice comes out hoarse, two fingers pinching Khaotung’s right nipple between them.
Khaotung’s breath turns heavy, his skin burning and shivering all at once as First’s lips close around one of the fat buds.
It’s indecent; the animal-like pull of First’s mouth on his slightly sore nipples, ready to grow even fuller as the little presence inside his belly continues to develop.
A broken whimper escapes his throat when First’s teeth tug gently at the perked flesh, their eyes locked; Khaotung’s gaze steady, First’s wild.
“Enjoy it while you can, before these start leaking something real.” Khaotung murmurs, his finger brushing softly over the mole beneath First’s chin.
First stills against his chest, eyes wide with confusion, though his hands keep moving over Khaotung’s body by pure instinct.
“What?” His voice is gentle, so endearingly puzzled that Khaotung can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
His hand trembles slightly as it finds its way back into First’s hair, guiding the still-confused figure lower, down toward his belly.
He exhales a shaky breath, watching the way First’s lips move along his stomach despite not yet understanding.
Little.
Gathering every drop of courage he has, Khaotung softens his voice to a childlike whisper, small and trembling.
“Hi, daddy.”
First’s breath barely moves through his lungs, his doe-wide eyes now veiled with tears.
Khaotung knows his own eyes must be mirroring First’s; he knows because First’s fingers move softly to the corner of his eye, wiping away a single tear in the same rhythm his other hand moves over Khaotung’s belly.
“Oh.” First’s voice comes out weak, his face all wet with tears as he leans up, lips catching Khaotung’s in a soft salt-like kiss.
“Oh, my baby.” His voice trembles as they part.
My baby.
Khaotung doesn’t know whether First is talking about him or the little life growing inside him. He figures it doesn’t really matter, as First’s gaze holds his with a soft smile beneath the shimmer of tears.
“How…” First stutters softly as he looks down, his eyes lingering on Khaotung’s belly that still shows no outward sign of swelling. “How long have you been—”
The stumble in his words seems to amuse Khaotung; a sweet chuckle escapes him.
He takes First’s hand, guiding it to his belly the same way he had just minutes before.
“How long I’ve been pregnant? Is that what you’re asking, Fir?” His voice comes soft, almost teasing, close to First’s ear. He watches as the other shivers faintly at the sound.
First hums; steady, or at least trying to be; his fingers trembling as they move over Khaotung’s belly. Awed. Awed.
“Phi…” Khaotung’s lips brush teasingly around First’s earlobe. First exhales a shaky breath, though his hands grow steadier against the gentle curve of Khaotung’s belly.
Little.
“I’ve been carrying you for three weeks,” Khaotung murmurs, the words anything but innocent.
A constant; that’s what got him here in the first place.
“Three weeks,” First repeats, as if the repetition can steady the chaotic rhythm of his heart against every inch of his ribs.
Khaotung hums, the teasing easing down as First’s arms wrap around him. He nuzzles against First’s neck, lips curling into a smile against his skin.
“You’re going to be a dad, phi First.”
First’s arms tighten around the small of Khaotung’s body. A soft sound, half a laugh, half a sob, escapes him.
“Yeah,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss along Khaotung’s neck. “Yeah, I am.”
Little.
It’s endearing.
The way First has been examining Khaotung’s body every morning for the past four months, utterly awed by every little change, every illusion of one.
As his careful, kind eyes travel over Khaotung’s form, lingering on the first signs of showing that had once sent them both sobbing at seven in the morning on a rainy Tuesday.
A sweet voice threading through their morning routine as they wake, lips brushing wet against Khaotung’s belly, his hand moving gently along the new curve of his stomach as if tracing the life growing within.
Sometimes feral, as his hungry mouth traces the soft swell of the omega’s growing breasts, nipples puffed and begging to be touched.
Teasing, too, as Khaotung’s cock hides beneath the weight of his lower belly, swelling further with each passing day.
Little.
Untamed desire sips through every shaky breath Khaotung lets out, eyes fixed on the visible dampness on his t-shirt, right over one of his nipples.
It’s easy to know what it is, and not so easy to know what to do with it.
The tameless longing Khaotung has carried for months, if not years, when all he could do was fantasize, now thrums through him in full force.
“First,” his voice comes out steadier than he actually feels, his body anchored against the headboard.
“Yes?” First, lying on the other side, eyes drifting to a pair of baby socks they had spotted on the way home from the company, spins around in an instant.
Khaotung’s silence seems to concern him further as he leans closer, eyes tracing Khaotung’s body as if by instinct.
“Here.” Khaotung’s finger drifts toward the visible dampness, a soft tremor running beneath his skin.
First thought he would freeze. But he doesn’t. Desire, it seems, governs actions far more than the mind can fathom.
His breath comes ragged as he lifts Khaotung’s shirt gently, pulling it off to reveal the damp nipple, his hungry gaze fixed.
“You’re leaking here, Tung,” he whispers, stating the obvious uselessly.
Khaotung, too far gone to care, only nods, fingers curling softly around the swollen bud. “Wanna feed?”
The absurdity of the invitation coaxes a low growl from First, whole body trembling as he leans in.
Khaotung’s whimper comes heavy as First’s lips close over the perked nipple, suckles grazing the sore skin; painful, yet maddeningly pleasurable.
“First…” First's name escapes him in a broken moan as the alpha lifts his gaze for a brief second, lips parting from the nipple.
“Still no milk, baby.” First speaks, and Khaotung wishes he knew why the simple statement drives him insane; his lower body moving desperately, seeking something he can’t have, as First’s attention remains completely elsewhere.
First’s mouth keeps latching onto the sore nipple, his hand moving gently over the occupied breast, massaging as if coaxing every drop out.
“Phi,” the nickname breaks from Khaotung’s lips as he feels the strange push of something from the nipple.
His whole body trembles with pleasure while First lets out a low growl against him, lips parting just long enough to show the warm liquid inside before continuing to suckle.
“Baby,” First rasps, pulling away, utterly out of breath as he looks up from Khaotung’s chest, eyes locking with the hunger blazing in Khaotung’s.
The smaller one yanks him closer, pressing him into a kiss, hand moving desperately over the bulge forming beneath First’s shorts.
First’s mouth is warm, carrying the faint, probable taste of Khaotung's own milk as Khaotung laps at it; once, twice. Again.
His hand finds Khaotung’s frantic fingers on his shorts, catching them, kissing the damp, sweaty skin as he murmurs against Khaotung’s hand. “Shhh,” he breathes, pressing a soft kiss to his wrist. “I’m here.”
And he is. He tugs gently at Khaotung’s shorts, his cock pressed painfully hard against his lower belly. Thighs filled out deliciously.
Khaotung is a sight like this.
His belly swollen and curving downward, bellybutton slightly puffed, his breasts faintly filled and his dark nipples begging for attention like they always do. Like they always did.
A faint sheen of sweat coats his skin, a light stubble scattered across his face, and his eyes burn hot against First’s skin.
First’s fingers move wet inside Khaotung’s hole as he parts his legs gently, the position slightly new with the obvious physical change.
Restless, Khaotung moves against First’s fingers, beneath his free hand that moves sweetly over Khaotung’s sweat-damp cheeks.
“So eager,” First mumbles, his voice overly fond. He is overly fond.
“Aren’t you, Tung?” First murmurs, kissing a whimper off Khaotung’s swollen lips.
Restless.
First chuckles at the way Khaotung slaps his hand away, withdrawing First’s fingers from the hungry pull of his hole as his other hand lands desperately on the hard length of First’s cock.
“Inside me,” he breathes, his hand moving clumsily over the leaking tip, his breath syncing with First’s in the desperate drag of the moment.
And who could possibly disobey a command like that? First’s cock twitches as his gaze drops to the puckered skin of Khaotung’s hole, flushed red from being fingered or so long.
He fights the urge to lean down and taste, adjusting himself against Khaotung.
“Fuck,” First curses as he pushes the tip inside, his ears catching the broken whimper that slips the dry of Khaotung’s lips, his eyes fixed on the heaven-like sight beneath him.
“You look so filled, Tung,” First murmurs, unable to help himself as his gaze lingers;
the strange position they’re in, the soft swell of Khaotung’s belly, and the undeniable evidence that First had been buried deep inside, giving everything he ever could while Khaotung took every drop with pride.
Their breaths come ragged as First pushes fully inside, his hand gently keeping Khaotung’s legs apart.
“Does it hurt?” His voice comes kind, his smile mirroring Khaotung’s as he shakes his head to the side.
First lets out a heavy exhale as he starts moving inside him, his whole body trembling each time his restless eyes land on Khaotung’s belly.
“Can’t get enough, can you?” The words leave his mouth like a cry, his cock throbbing inside Khaotung’s body.
Khaotung only watches him with a crooked smile, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Already swollen with my baby,” Khaotung’s whimpers come like a routine at the words, yet his eyes stay steady on First’s.
First’s grip on Khaotung’s legs tightens as he picks up the pace, his heart pulses somewhere in his throat; or at the very tip of his cock.
“You want more, Tung, don’t you?” he rasps, wishing desperately he could lean in and kiss him. “Should I give you more, my love?” First asks, insanity washing over his words. “Can you keep it all inside your pretty little hole?”
Khaotung cries, his whole body shaking under the filth of First’s words, the hot drag of his cock inside his body.
“God, you look so—” First’s voice comes out desperate, one hand slipping from Khaotung’s thigh to land on his belly, brushing it gently as his body continues moving forward.
The soft, sweet gesture seems to unravel Khaotung, his whole body trembling, a desperate call of First’s name escaping as he cries, coming all over his belly in thick ropes.
Restless. Restless. The sight beneath him is maddeningly wild; the swell of Khaotung’s belly coated in cum, his fingers rubbing at the nipple First had fed from minutes ago, squeezing it as milk trickles from the tip.
First’s movements grow frantic as his gaze lingers on Khaotung’s face; his eyes, god, his eyes.
With a loud growl, First comes inside Khaotung, his whole body pressing down as Khaotung continues milking him.
First’s hands wrap tightly around Khaotung’s body, his lips moving against his neck, tasting the salt of sweat as his omega trembles against him.
“Are you okay?” His voice comes sweet as he fully pulls out, kissing away the soft moan that leaves Khaotung’s lips.
Khaotung turns gently, nuzzling First’s neck as First’s hand moves to his stomach by instinct.
The gesture coaxes a tired giggle from Khaotung as he holds First tighter, exhausted enough not to notice the little flutter beneath his belly.
“We both are.”