Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/202088.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Equius_Zahhak/Aurthour
  Character:
      Equius_Zahhak, Aurthour
  Additional Tags:
      Lactation, Rite_of_Passage, Xenophilia
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-20 Words: 3681
****** dissolved in hot desire ******
by winglessdrake
Summary
     Written for the following prompt on the Homestuck kinkmeme:
     Lusus are tasked with rearing young trolls, yeah? But a lot of them
     can't actually communicate, so they have to... demonstrate, instead.
     So it's expected that young trolls will have their birds-and-the-bees
     talk interactively. With their Lusus. Their Lusus fucking their
     brains out.
     I deliver.
He knew it was coming, of course. How could he not, when it seemed like his
entire contact list would speak of nothing else, and Vriska's terrified screams
had traumatized half the neighborhood before she finally realized what her
lusus was doing, and her shrieks had melted into cries of pleasure? Nepeta had
become very cross with him when he denied any desire to hear about her own
encounter with Pounce – she had even called him a grouch, when he was nothing
of the sort – and he'd been forced to resort to very harsh language indeed in
order to stave off pity-filled communications from certain lowbloods who dared
to think they understood his situation. Yet at the same time, neither did he
want to be like Captor, who had stridently declared to anyone who would listen
that he'd sooner eat mind honey that allow his lusus anywhere near him, and was
perfectly content to learn everything he needed to know from the troll
internet. The flagrant break with hallowed tradition set Equius' teeth on edge,
and sent him all but scrambling for a towel.
And yet…Loathe as he was to admit it, Pyrope's gleeful accusations and Nitram's
blatantly inappropriate attempts at condolences -- he might have claimed
ignorance, but Equius was quite sure the brownblooded fool knew exactly how
insulting he had been – were not entirely inaccurate. In fact, if launching a
barb straight into his heart had been their intention, then – first prizes all
around for a bullseye.
It wasn't as though he were unwilling. His body ached with needs he had
deliberately kept himself ignorant of, as tradition required, and relief would
have been a blessed balm, like a cold, foamy glass of milk after a lengthy cage
match. Nor was he repulsed –indeed, had he not always admired Aurthour's
visage? That thick, barrel-like chest, those smooth, muscular arms, that
moustache he always took such special care to keep well-groomed…Truly, Equius'
lusus was the very picture of dignified masculinity. How could he not be
interested, even setting aside his curiosity concerning the basic facts of
life? There had even been a time, not that long ago, when he had looked forward
to this – but then his STRENGTH had begun to develop, and even the gentlest
pats had begun to leave bruises on Aurthour's fair skin. How could Equius not
be fearful, when it seemed he could not avoid hurting his lusus no matter what
he did?  It was this fear that had driven him to pace restlessly from room to
room of his hive, steadfastly avoiding Aurthour's company, and to lock himself
in with his sparring 'bots for hours on end; but not even the joy of waging
STRONG battle on his self-made foes could sate his inner frustration.
It was not until he was trolled by Gamzee, during a brief break in his self-
imposed exile to the basement, that he realized how badly he may have misread
the situation. The highblood's words were even more mangled than usual; several
words were misspelled, and he appeared to be alternating caps at random. The
reason why quickly became clear: it appeared Gamzee's lusus had not only put in
a rare appearance in the waters close to his hive, but had in fact dragged
itself all the way up the beach and nearly knocked down the front door in its
effort to reach Gamzee. Gamzee had been quite firmly in the grip of a slime-
induced stupor at the time, but snapped out of it – somewhat – at the
realization that his hive was shaking. He'd quickly rushed outside, and then –
well, what happened next was probably best left between the two of them. Just
reading Gamzee's disjointed description had been enough to make Equius blush
bright blue and completely soak two towels.
It was in that moment that he realized that, as important and life-changing as
this rite of passage was to young trolls, it might just be of equal importance
to the lusus naturae. If the need to be with his young charge had driven
Gamzee's feckless and irresponsible lusus home at last, then how must sweet,
dutiful Aurthour have felt, watching Equius steadfastly avoid his company day
after day? It had never been Equius's intention to cause his lusus any pain –
quite the opposite in fact – but as it happened Aurthour entered the room just
then, and when Equius looked at him with his freshly-opened eyes, he could see
the longing in Aurthour's gaze.
He was carrying a tray, upon which was perched a glass of milk – doubtlessly
meant as a lure, to tempt Equius into remaining in Aurthour's presence. Over
one noble arm was draped a thick towel; an exceptionally thoughtful gesture, as
Equius had broke out in a sweat anew the instant he met his lusus's gaze. There
was a quiet pause as lusus and troll stared each other down: Aurthour was the
first to break the stalemate, his moustache twitching as the beginnings of a
hopeful, pride-filled smile began to form behind it.
It might have been any of a thousand days that had come before as Aurthour
crossed the room, slowly for the sake of the tray he still carried, were it not
for the unfamiliar charged energy that seemed to have settled between them.
Equius found himself watching Aurthour in a way he had never before; he had
always admired his lusus's form, of course, but never with this strange sense
of purpose. He found his gaze lingering on the plump, pale udder that
ponderously hung just before the apex of Aurthour's hind legs, and blushed
bright blue; Aurthour seemed similarly discombobulated as he handed Equius the
glass, though his own blush seemed somewhat balanced by the pride that now
filled his face. Rather than discretely leaving to fetch a mop as he usually
did, he remained by Equius's side, and the scrutiny was so intense that Equius
shattered the glass before it had even touched his lips, spilling milk all over
his chin and chest.
He snarled, beyond embarrassed at his own clumsiness, especially at a time like
this – but then Aurthour was calmly taking him by the arm, shocking Equius into
stillness when he would otherwise have turned and stomped away. How many sweeps
had it been since he'd last allowed Aurthour to touch him? And now Aurthour was
setting the tray aside and holding up the towel he'd brought with him, gently
wiping Equius's face and neck clean. He carefully removed Equius's glasses and
set them aside as well, then calmly reached for the hem of his shirt, as though
Equius were still so young that he required help dressing himself. But he'd
never felt like this when he was younger. He was trembling as Aurthour wrapped
his arms around him; a part of him still afraid, no, terrified of hurting his
beloved lusus, especially now of all times, and in addition to that nervous
about what was to come. Yet another part was shocked to realize, for the first
time, that his chest had grown as broad as Aurthour's – and the rest was too
stunned by the warmth that seemed to suffuse him as stiff bristles tickled his
upper lip, and warm flesh caressed his lower, to consider anything else.
He was still too frightened to actually touch Aurthour – his arms hung limp at
his sides, hands reflexively clutching at the empty air as he was kissed. But
he couldn't seem to hold completely still; he was trembling as Aurthour
tenderly stroked his back, fingertips digging into muscles that had been so
tense for so long that the release of tension was almost painful. He groaned,
knees buckling slightly, and might even have fallen if Aurthour hadn't caught
him, cradling Equius against his chest. His skin was so warm and smooth, and
Equius could feel the slow, steady drubbing of Aurthour's heart against his
chest, gradually increasing in pace as his tongue tenderly slipped between
Equius's parted lips. Equius's own heart was already pounding, as though at any
moment it might burst out of his chest; but Aurthour understood what he needed,
just as he always had, and ended the kiss, instead nuzzling Equius's cheek and
continuing to stroke his back with long, calming sweeps of his hands.
When he slowly drew Equius down to the floor, lowering himself first to his
knees, then lying on his side, Equius scarcely hesitated for a single second
before kneeling beside him, heedless of Trollian's insistent chiming. Why would
he want to speak with anyone, when words would have been nothing more than a
barrier between himself and the being who currently occupied all his attention?
Still, the ability to ask for some sort of explanation, and count on receiving
one in turn, would not have been entirely unwelcome when Aurthour began to
tenderly stroke Equius's face before cupping the back of his head and gently
tugging him lower still. Equius blushed hot when he found himself face to, to
teat with Aurthour's udder, the nearest protuberance still slightly damp and
glistening. A rivulet of sweat ran down his face and fell to the floor; he
might have balked then, might have tried to pull away despite the gentle hand
still slowly carding its way through his hair, for certainly this was an
impropriety in anysituation, even one such as this, and certainly not one he
had allowed himself since he was very young, too young to have learned better.
But Aurthour was already reaching down with his other hand, and taking hold of
his own teat; Equius had no choice but to open his mouth, rather than see
Aurthour spill himself onto the floor.
The warm milk spilled into his mouth, the taste familiar enough to be
comforting, but the temperature just unusual enough to be exciting. Equius
shuddered, opening his mouth as wide as possible so as not to miss a single
drop. He found himself grateful that Aurthour had already removed his shirt;
had he still been wearing it, it would surely have been stained and plastered
to his back with sweat by now. As it was his stockings and shorts were growing
uncomfortably damp – not to mention tight.
He whimpered when the steady flow of soothing yet titillating warmth slowed to
a trickle, then finally ceased; with the utmost care he licked Aurthour's teat
clean of the last few, lingering drops, then sighed happily, warm all the way
through and satisfied in a way he hadn't experienced in sweeps. Yet his
contentment was doomed to be short-lived; the aching need that had haunted him
and all his contacts for the last perigee had only grown worse since Aurthour
first laid hands on him, and was quick to remind him of its presence. He
whimpered a second time, squirming in discomfort; his fingers digging small
canals into the rockcrete floor. But once again, Aurthour proved to be his
salvation; he reached back and, with nimble fingers, undid the zipper Equius
dared not touch himself in his – oh dear – aroused state. Aurthour then pushed
both shorts and zippers down to about mid-thigh; this time Equius's sigh of
relief was, for the moment, without reservation or qualification. He couldn't
even find it in himself to be embarrassed at being so exposed.
Aurthour stroked his thighs, both of them wider in circumference than the
lusus's powerful arms, giving Equius a moment to grow used to his touch. Then
his hands were slowing moving upward and inward, towards --oh. Oh goodness,
that felt…That felt exquisite. No one had ever touched him there before, not
even himself, though there had been times when he'd wanted to, oh, so much. But
he'd waited, he'd saved himself for this moment, and oh god. It'd been worth
the wait.
His first release came quickly. He had put this off too long, hungered for it
too strongly, to hold off now. He cried out as all the tension left his body in
a great gush of dark blue fluid, splattering the floor and Aurthour's white
flank, and only barely retained enough presence of mind not to cling. He
collapsed instead, into Aurthour's waiting arms, and found himself once more
held close to that muscular chest, while tender hands stroked his face and
hair.
But Equius was not yet sated. The tension might have left his body, but his
need yet lingered, turning his lower belly into a furnace that burned no less
fiercely for being entirely metaphorical. He groaned faintly and bid Aurthour
release him; his first action after that was to finish removing his shoes,
shorts, and stockings. His shyness returned, slightly, once he was entirely
naked; he tried to keep his body twisted away and out of sight, but Aurthour
was having none of that. He grabbed Equius around the waist and kissed him
again, hands sweeping up and down the length of his body and caressing his
back, his chest, his thighs, his…Oh dear…Though Aurthour could not speak, the
pride and affection in his touch was impossible to miss. His need as well; when
Equius glanced down at both their splayed legs, he blushed darkly, realizing
that he could just see the, the evidence of his lusus's desire peaking out past
the curve of his udder.
If there had ever been a time for such base curiosity, it was this. Equius lay
on his side, propping himself up with an elbow as he carefully examined the
tumescent piece of flesh; Aurthour shuddered next to him, and then Equius felt
his lusus's hands on him once more, first caressing, then massaging the thick
muscles of his thighs. He groaned as Aurthour's deft fingertips coaxed his
muscles into relaxing, a surprised but pleased grin crossing his face when
Aurthour twitched and exhaled heavily. Repeating the action was – literally –
as easy as breathing, especially when he realized that Aurthour's hands had at
some point left his thighs and moved a few significant inches further up his
body. He groaned again, resisting the urge to bury his face in his arms and
deny his lusus even the hint of reciprocation he was able to provide.
Aurthour's fingertips suddenly swept the length of his chest, gathering up his
genetic material, and then they – oh. Oh god. Oh, that was positively filthy;
Equius whimpered, tremors wracking his body, and might well have called the
whole thing off were it not for the deep and unshaken reservoirs of trust he
held for his guardian. Once again he found himself struggling to remain still
while Aurthour penetrated him, slick fingers gently but inexorably pushing
deeper inside him. He'd only just become aware that such a thing was even
possible, thanks to Gamzee's insistence on over-sharing, but the highblood's
disjointed description hadn't even come close to doing the experience justice.
And if Aurthour was doing this to him, did that mean…Did he plan to…
Equius moaned, pulling another full-body shudder out of Aurthour as his hot,
moist breath ghosted over his lusus's tumescence. Inspiration struck; he opened
his mouth, letting his tongue loll out – and finding such an animalistic action
strangely arousing under these circumstances. He didn't dare attempt to touch
such a sensitive part of Aurthour's body, lest he cause his lusus unspeakable
pain, but when next he exhaled, Aurthour's reaction caused his flesh to drag
across Equius's tongue. His response was an immediate as it was dramatic; he
actually vocalized, a throaty sound not unlike a whinny escaping his normally
silent mouth. Surprised, but not displeased, Equius kept his mouth open,
allowing Aurthour to pleasure himself as he pleased while the lusus continued
to…to prepare Equius for what he so strongly suspected what must be coming.
His expectations turned out to entirely correct; a few minutes more of
preparation, and then Aurthour was gently sliding his fingers out of him and
caressing his spine a final time, making him shiver, then scooping him up with
a strong arm around his chest and pulling him close for another kiss. Equius
felt warm through and shivery, so tense with anticipation that he could
scarcely breathe, and yet at the same time loose-limbed and utterly pliable. He
followed Aurthour's unspoken commands with perfect compliance, lying on his
side with his back to his lusus, fingertips already beginning to dig into the
floor as Aurthour stroked his side and tugged at his hips, fussing over him and
arranging him just so, and then – oh. Oh goodness. He could, he could feel it,
the very tip of Aurthour's organ, pressing against him.
It was far, far bigger than Aurthour's fingers had been, and as it pressed
against him Equius was suddenly gripped by the cold fear that it could never
possibly fit, that they would have to end the encounter here, with his lusus
still unsatisfied and Equius himself still trembling with need. But of course
Aurthour knew better; he always did. His fingers worked out Equius's lower back
and, and buttocks, almost fierce in how firmly they massaged him, until at last
the tension went out of him with a loud groan. Aurthour pressed against him at
the same time, and Equius cried out silently, caught without any breath in his
lungs, when he felt the head of it push inside him. It was so big that, despite
all the care and preparation Aurthour had taken Equius still felt a sharp pain
go up his spine. He hissed between his teeth, still struggling to draw breath,
and Aurthour halted immediately, looking down at the portion of Equius's face
that wasn't obscured by the floor or his hair and petting his side with
palpable concern. But Equius found that he didn't want Aurthour to stop.
He dug his fingers into the floor as he fought the overwhelming urge to move,
to squirm, to press back; anything to relieve the burning, arching stretch.
Through sheer force of will he took first one breath, then another, forcing the
air past the tightness in his throat that so exquisitely mirrored the tightness
in more intimate regions of his body. Finally he had the breath to give an
order, a demand that Aurthour move, since Equius dared not do the moving for
him. His lusus gripped his shoulder, stroked his face; despite the lust and
pain clouding his senses Equius still noticed that Aurthour's fingers were
trembling, and was gratified for it. Again he ordered Aurthour to move, giving
in just a little to desperation; his lusus might have ignored the first order
out of concern for him, but could not do so again. He grabbed Equius by the
hips, slowly tugging him back down on that excessively impressive length, while
Equius whimpered and keened and tore great gouges in the surface of the floor.
How glad he was that there was nobody present, other than Aurthour of course,
to see him in such a state! And how very grateful he was to his lusus simply
for existing, for being his lusus and sharing this experience with him.
At last he could go no further; his backside was pressed up against the apex of
Aurthour's hind legs, and Aurthour's udder was squashed nearly flat against the
small of his back. Equius could feel the warm dampness of a few stray droplets,
left behind by his earlier feeding and now squeezed out by the pressure,
trickling down his skin, but the sensation was all but overwhelmed by the
fullness that seemed to penetrate deeply into his very core. Of course it was
painful; his body had never been meant to receive so much. But he found himself
enjoying all the same. No, more than that: he found himself craving more.
One of Aurthour's hooves scraped against the ground as he struggled to gain
purchase and follow Equius's breathless, only half-coherent commands; the
position couldn't possibly have been anything other than extremely awkward for
him, but the lusus persisted, brushing Equius's hair out of his face with a
delicacy that belied the rough way his hips suddenly jerked, dragging smooth,
heated fleshed against flesh. Equius cried out, and again as the motion was
repeated, his lusus falling into a rhythm that hurt and pleasured in equal
measures.
This time Equius did not require assistance to find his release; he spilt his
genetic material on the floor without even a hand on him, keening desperately
and, as best he could between sobs, begging Aurthour to continue. But this time
the order was unnecessary; his lusus had grown relentless as his own pleasure
neared its peak, and he held Equius tightly by the shoulders and neck, pounding
into him with a force that left him shaken to the bone. Aurthour's release was
no less dramatic; he withdrew at the last minute, spilling a white fluid only
slightly thicker than his milk across Equius's legs and back.
Utterly undone, Equius could do nothing but roll onto his back – with a wince,
his body was already making its opinion of the abuse he'd just subjected it to
known – and stare sightlessly up at the ceiling, struggling for breath.
Aurthour lay next to him, the lusus's sides heaving; after a moment he wrapped
an arm around Equius and pulled him back against his chest, nuzzling the back
of Equius's sweat-soaked neck. Equius sighed in gratitude, letting his fall
closed as he allowed himself a moment to rest. But only a moment; his eyes
opened again soon afterwards, and he looked down the length of his body, taking
stock of himself and the mess he'd made. Blue and white genetic material was
everywhere, and despite his weakened state he couldn't help but blush as he
took it all in. He reached down to brush a fingertip through a rope of white
that had painted his thigh; after a moment's contemplation and a shy glance
over his shoulder to make sure Aurthour wasn't looking, he raised the white-
coated fingertip to his mouth, tongue sneaking out to taste it. His lips
quirked slightly at the bitterness, but despite that he found the taste very
enjoyable indeed.
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