Work Text:
When Mo Xuanyu was young and his mother was still alive, he used to rest his head on her knees. He was small, so when she’d sit down he’d sit down in front of her legs and gently place his head on her knees. It was comfortable and made him feel safe, resting there on the ground, his mom holding him. He could sit there for hours and he would if she let him. She’d do work above his head, laughing softly, petting him, being a mom.
He misses her a lot. After she passes and he’s taken in by his aunt and her family, there’s no one to do it with anymore. The habit dies with her. His maternal family are terrible and abusive, hurting him any chance they get. When he escapes it’s to a somehow worse environment, even with less physical abuse, due to his birth father. His half siblings are nice, don’t get him wrong, but none of them are really the physical touch type of comforting, not when they’re younger at least. Even after presenting, it’s not really something Xuanyu advertises. The habit had died with his mom, simple as that.
And then he gets a boyfriend and another boyfriend. Even if Lan Zhan isn’t the most physically affectionate person at first, Wei Ying is . He meets them after they’ve already presented and it shows. He loves to rub his scent all over them, rubbing their cheeks together, rubbing his face and wrist all along his body, marking them both thoroughly. He’s touchy, enough for both himself and A-Zhan. It’s comforting and it’s nice, they’re his partners and despite how touch can sometimes burn, theirs just… doesn’t.
The first time he picks up the habit again is with A-Zhan.
Despite being the shyer one of the three of them, he’s always been the most comforting one to Xuanyu. Nothing against A-Ying, but sometimes quiet was easier for him. Quiet meant safety. Lan Zhan was quiet.
Xuanyu feels wrong. He’d woken up wrong, enough so that his scent had been on and off all day. When he got upset his scent got sour or it went away, his glands being funky after the abuse he suffered and the things his biological father put him through. He’d worn his patches to work, per usual, but his scent was either too strong that it would leak through or non-existent so it didn’t matter. His coworkers had tried but everything had pissed him off today, made him upset, especially customers. By the time he gets home he’s exhausted, burnt out, and ready to lie down in their nest and do nothing.
The first thing Xuanyu does when he gets home is shower. He washes off all the grime from work, feeling filthy and gross. Once he’s changed he heads to the kitchen for a drink and that’s when he notices it: A-Zhan is home, resting on the couch. He’s sitting with perfect posture while looking at his phone. It’s as if something comes over him and-
He walks over, sits down in front of his boyfriend and rests his head in his lap. It's subconscious, a reaction to seeing his boyfriend sitting alone after having a shitty day. After a few seconds he realizes what he's done, but when he tries to move back, there's a hand on his head. He stills, surprised, but A-Zhan doesn't say anything, just gently plays with his hair, his hand a comforting weight on his head.
When Xuanyu peaks at him, A-Zhan hasn't looked away from his phone, but his ears are dusted pink and his hand is thorough and intent.
He thinks he falls asleep because he awakes when he's being shifted. He grumbles and hears a chuckle, one not from A-Zhan, and he looks up blearily to see A-Ying.
“Hey there sleepyhead,” he purrs. He scents him gently, his wrist glands gently running over his neck, his head, his shoulders and arms that rest in his lap. Xuanyu can’t help but purr, eyes closing as he dozes off again.
He feels warm and safe and at home.
After that, it becomes sort of a habit. Not just his, but theirs as well. A-Zhan doesn’t really partake, but A-Ying loves to drape himself over their laps. He does it whenever he wants attention, but Xuanyu only does it when he really needs it. They never ask him about it and he never offers it. There’s no need.
They end up spreading the habit to their family as well.
-
“Yu-ge, what are you doing?” A-Yuan whispers, looking up at his A-niang before looking back at him.
He hasn’t been living with them for that long, so he’s not too used to their habits. He did spend a lot of time here while his aunt and uncle alongside his A-niang, A-die and himself worked on taking down Wen Industries, but it hasn’t been his home for longer than a month.
“Sometimes, when your Yu-ge is sad or just needs some comfort, he does this,” A-Ying explains gently as he picks him up and tucks him into his side on the couch.
“Why?” A-Yuan asks, curiosity clear on his face.
“Well-” he starts, but Xuanyu cuts him off.
“My A-niang used to be super busy, but not busy enough to sit, so I’d rest like this on her lap when I was sad,” he explains, half asleep. “Feels like home now.”
A-Yuan’s eyes widen and he smiles wide. “So, A-Yuan can do it too?” He asks quietly.
A-Ying ruffles his hair. “Of course you can, my little radish. Even your A-die will let you.”
A-Yuan’s smile grows as he snuggles closer to his A-niang.
-
“A-niang, I don’t know what to do.”
Lan Yuan’s A-niang looks up from his computer, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong, A-Yuan?” He asks gently, setting his computer aside as he pats the spot beside him.
Instead of that, A-Yuan sits on the ground and rests his head on his legs. His A-niang takes it in stride, patting his head. “What’s wrong, A-Yuan?” He asks again.
“A-Yi won’t talk to me and something’s wrong with him,” he explains, trying to keep his voice steady even as it quivers a bit.
“Oh? What do you mean?” He can hear the worry in his A-niang’s voice, his hand moving from head pats to running through his hair.
“He won’t reply to my texts and when we saw each other earlier he looked on the verge of crying or running,” he explains, burying his face in his A-niang’s knees. “Do you think he’s upset at me?”
“I genuinely don’t think A-Yi is capable of being upset at you,” he says after a moment. “And you know how A-Yi is, my little radish, has anything happened with his parents recently?” He asks gently.
Lan Yuan sits up suddenly, eyes darkening slightly. “You think it’s their fault?” He asks, frowning.
Wei Ying sighs. “You know how they can be, A-Yuan. Let’s think of how we can help, okay? Can you invite him over?”
A-Yuan sighs. “Yeah,” he rests his head back on his A-niang’s lap and pulls his phone out. “When?”
“Today, make him come over today. We have a guaranteed way of helping others feel better, yeah?” He ruffles Yuan’s hair, as if making a point.
He smiles softly, and starts to type. “Yeah, we do.”
-
“What is this?” Jingyi asks, feeling a bit awkward.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” Wei-ge pats his lap again for emphasis. “Come sit on the floor in front of my legs and rest your head.”
“I don’t know, Wei-ge-” He starts shifting nervously, but A-Yuan places a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you trust me, A-Yi?” He asks gently.
Jingyi looks into his eyes, then back at Wei-ge, before looking back and then sighing. He nods. He’s 12, yeah, but A-Yuan was going to be his future husband and mate and he trusted him with his life. So he does as he’s asked, awkwardly sitting in front of Wei-ge and then resting his head on his legs. He’s stiff, unsure on what to do next.
And then Wei-ge is gently carding his hands through his hair and he melts . His parents never really cared for physical affection, but especially not with him for he was always the black sheep of the family. His sisters liked it sometimes but he didn’t really get a lot of it outside of with A-Yuan and the little family that had made him theirs . This is different, it feels intimate, like a mother caring for their pup.
He purrs softly and he can feel the loud purr that runs through Wei-ge in return. He can feel as A-Yuan sidles up next to him, cuddling him in the weirdest position on the floor. He doesn’t mind, really, it feels nice. He feels so warm and loved in the moment, his earlier strife with his parents forgotten.
He feels comforted.
-
Zizhen looks confusedly between Sang-ge and Cheng-ge, not quite sure what they want.
“I’m confused,” he admits, noticing they're both on the couch. Their scents are strong, as if urging him closer, but they’re taking up all the space on the couch. He’s 17, not really the type to cuddle with his parental figures like that on the couch anymore (sometimes), so he’s not sure what they want him to do.
It’s been a long and tiring day, working through transition stuff. He wants to stop having ruts (he’s already had 2 since he presented) since they’re annoying and do not align with his inner being since he’s a beta. He had also had school and on top of that A-Ling had been busy all day so he hadn't even gotten to see his boyfriend.
Sang-ge looks at him before looking at his mate, lips pursed. He sighs dramatically, leaning against his partner who seems to loosen up a bit. Cheng-ge had been stiff since he’d entered for some reason (Sang-ge said most of the time it was due to him wanting something but not being sure how to explain it).
“You’ve had a long day, A-Zhen, why don’t you come sit down and rest your head in one of our laps?” His Sang-ge suggests with a smile, patting his mate’s lap and his own.
Zizhen frowns, head tilting. His scent reeks of confusion. “Why… why would I do that?” The offer sounds nice, in a sense, but also confusing and a bit… awkward. Yeah, Sang-ge and Cheng-ge had always been his favorite uncles since he’d known the family, and they were his current guardians and the ones he lived in, but this was… different. He was used to hugs, cuddling, etc, but nothing like this.
“It’s something the others do with their parents and uncles. We won’t insist if you think you’ll be uncomfortable, but A-Ling, A-Yuan and even A-Yi have done it with us before,” Sang-ge explains.
A-Zhen scratches the back of his neck, debating. Again, it sounds nice, he’s just… not used to it. Slowly he approaches, looking at the pair of them, before sitting down in front of them. He debates internally before leaning forward and gently resting his arms and face on Cheng-ge’s lap. He can feel his uncle stiffen under him before relaxing, his scent thick with awe and happiness. A firm and calloused hand rests gently on his scalp and he can feel himself melt. A rumbling sound erupts in his chest and he feels so safe and at home. Another hand joins the one on his head, this one running fingers through his hair, and he knows it's Sang-ge. He didn’t expect to feel this much comfort, especially after the bullshit day he had, and tears prick his eyes.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, for this and so much more.
Zizhen is home.
-
“How did this even start?” Jin Ling asks his A-niang with his face smushed into her legs.
She laughs gently, sounding like tinkling bells, a hand patting his head in a small rhythm. “A-Yu used to do this with his mother, and he passed it down to A-Yuan who couldn’t resist doing it to all of us, so we ended up teaching you and the others about it,” she explains. “We thought it was a good habit, enough so that some of us adopted it as well. It is very comforting, feeling your weight this close to me,” she transitions to stroking his head gently, all fond. “It’s always nice having your kid still rely on you, no matter their age.”
Jin Ling smiles into his mom’s legs, snuggling closer. “Love you, A-niang.”
“I love you too, my precious A-Ling.”