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Xue Yang was feeling… unsettled. This was unusual, to say the least, since he’d just gotten spanked and fucked by Song Lan and his massive dick, which usually left him panting and sated and warm all over before Xiao XingChen gathered him in his arms and kissed him all over.
This time, however, something was wrong. It wasn’t that Xiao XingChen wasn’t present. They’d fucked without him before, and then settled right back into the sofa to watch whatever the hell they’d been watching before they’d decided to fuck. So it wasn’t that at all.
He was still bent over the table, grabbing the ends of it like his life depended on it, trying to breathe properly again. He had to get up, and he had to get the hell out of there before Song Lan realized something was wrong and mocked him for it. A small part of his brain protested that Song Lan wouldn’t make fun of him for this, but the vast majority of it was freaking out. Why did he feel like this? He’d been feeling so good only seconds before, so why—?
He got up. He could feel Song Lan’s come leaking out of him, and while that usually made him feel content, it now made him flinch slightly. Song Lan noticed. Of course he noticed. There was a reason why he and Xiao XingChen worked so well together.
“Xue Yang?” He asked. Xue Yang tried to laugh and waved him off.
“I’m fine, big guy,” he said, but his voice was too shaky for his liking. He tried to take a step to get the fuck out, but the second he let go of the table his legs failed him and he fell down. Song Lan followed, eyebrows coming together in one of those frowns that always seemed to crawl under his skin. He looked concerned. Xue Yang wanted to tell him that he didn’t need his concern, but Song Lan’s arms came around him and he was brought into his lap. Xue Yang wanted to move away, but instead his arms went around Song Lan’s neck automatically. He heard a whine, and it took him a second to realize it’d been him.
“You’re shaking,” Song Lan murmured into his ear. Xue Yang shivered. What was wrong with him?
“What’s wrong?” Song Lan asked, softly, and Xue Yang had never heard that tone from him, not like this, and not in his ear.
“I…” he began, because he really wanted to speak even though he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He buried his face in the soft place between Song Lan’s shoulder and neck. Everything about Song Lan was so big, he thought as he felt a large hand pressing him against Song Lan’s chest. His hands, his dick, his arms… and he was always so warm. Xue Yang wanted to be warm too.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Song Lan’s deep voice rumbled against his chest. “You’re alright now. You’re being so good for me.”
“Really?” Xue Yang found himself asking in a small voice that he hated and that only came out in front of Xiao XingChen—and Song Lan, apparently.
Song Lan paused for a second, like he couldn’t believe what was happening, and then he kissed Xue Yang’s head and held him a little bit tighter.
“Yes, really,” he answered. “And since you’re being so good, we’re gonna go drink some water and have something to eat, and then we’re going to bed, is that alright?”
Xue Yang nodded and made a small sound of surprise when Song Lan got up with him in his arms, helping him to put his legs around his hips and walking with him clinging onto him like a koala. The thought made him chuckle, and Song Lan chuckled softly with him and kissed his head. He seemed to like that. It was fine, though. Xue Yang liked it too.
Song Lan brought him to the kitchen and set him down on the counter, but when he moved away, Xue Yang whined—his common sense had apparently fucked off because there was no way he would have done that if he'd been in his right mind. What had Xiao XingChen called it? Subspace? It’d happened before, but never with Song Lan.
Song Lan didn’t say anything, but he held onto his hand as he filled a glass of water and took out a fruit salad. Being large had advantages, it seemed, since it was possible for him to move around without letting go of Xue Yang’s hand.
“Drink, sweetheart,” Song Lan ordered, holding the glass to Xue Yang’s lips until he drank a few gulps. Then, he sat by Xue Yang’s side on the counter and put an arm around him while he fed him pieces of fruit. Xue Yang ate them obediently, which was a clear indication of his mental state in and of itself. The fruit was cool and sweet, but he’d much rather have some—
“Candy?” He asked, looking up at Song Lan, because—he realized—he was depending on him to provide him with what he needed. Song Lan gave him a light kiss on the lips—he’d never admit how much he liked those—and nodded.
“We have the ones that taste like vanilla that you like so much,” he said, and Xue Yang smiled sweetly like he hadn’t done in a long time. Song Lan’s eyes softened even further and he opened the drawer right beneath him, taking out two small pieces of candy. He unwrapped one and fed it to Xue Yang, and Xue Yang hummed contentedly and burrowed further into Song Lan’s side. Was he aware of the fact that he was behaving like a cat? Yes. Did he care? No, not really.
Song Lan waited until he was done with the first candy to give him the second. Once he was done with that one, he wanted more. He said so. Song Lan said no. Xue Yang pouted, but Song Lan didn’t budge, and so Xue Yang asked for a kiss. Song Lan gave it to him, and then got up from the counter and lifted him right back into his arms.
Xue Yang allowed him to carry him to the bedroom and didn’t say anything while Song Lan put one of his huge shirts on him and took him to the adjacent bathroom to wipe him down. Then, he wiped himself and carried Xue Yang back to the bedroom. He pulled up the covers and got in, so that he was on his back, arm around Xue Yang while he laid on his chest, listening to the slow, heavy beat of his heart. He’d never felt so small. He’d never felt so safe.
He made a small noise and moved closer, which caused Song Lan’s arm to tighten around him, which was a very good thing because it meant that Xue Yang’s body was touching Song Lan’s all over and that meant that he was warm. He wanted to stay in Song Lan’s arms forever, warm, so he could never be cold again, like he’d been on the streets when he was young, laying there after getting his hand crushed, unable to move for hours, shivering.
“Warm…” he heard himself whispering.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” Song Lan asked. Xue Yang shivered against him.
“You’re… warm,” he repeated, and his eyelids were getting heavier each time he blinked. “Stay? Keep me… keep me warm?”
There was a small silence, and then Song Lan was pulling him even tighter, so he was even more on top of him than he had been, and he was kissing his forehead and his hair.
“Of course,” he answered after a few seconds. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Xue Yang smiled against his skin and let himself fall asleep.
“… happened?” He heard Xiao XingChen’s voice what seemed like minutes but must’ve been hours later.
“He dropped a little,” Song Lan answered. “He’s… he’s never gone under with me before.”
Even though he couldn’t see it, Xue Yang knew that Xiao XingChen was smiling when he answered: “He trusts you.”
“He asked me to stay and keep him warm,” Song Lan kept going, and he was being really talkative, wasn’t he? That was rare, but Xue Yang liked the rumble of his voice against his own chest. He shuffled closer and nuzzled Song Lan’s throat, which he probably wouldn’t have done if he hadn’t been half-asleep.
“He’s sweet like this, isn’t he?” Xiao XingChen asked.
“Yes,” Song Lan whispered back, and he sounded a little awed. Xue Yang would’ve laughed at him, if he hadn’t been so comfortable laying on him.
“And will you?” Xiao XingChen asked in that tone that meant that he was tilting his head to the side inquisitively.
“Will I, what?”
“Stay and keep him warm.”
Song Lan hummed and kissed Xue Yang’s head again.
“How could I not?”