Touchy Trip
A/N- CW i can't say it's counted as sex but it's a bit sensual! He he!
The morning at the mountain estate arrived not with the harsh alarm of the city, but with a predatory silence. The sun was a pale, icy disc hanging over the peaks, casting long, bruised shadows across the snow-dusted balcony of Liang’s room.
Liang stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of the Great Hall, dressed only in his gray sweatpants. He was staring out at the pines, trying to ignore the way his heart was currently doing a frantic, fucking irregular drum solo against his ribs. He felt... weird. Since waking up, the scent of the house had changed. It didn't just smell like pine and cedar anymore. It smelled like him. It smelled like Shen.
The pheromones Shen had laced into him the night before were working like a slow-acting venom, softening Liang's defenses from the inside out. But of course didn't know that. He felt heavy, his muscles humming with a strange, submissive heat he couldn't fucking shake.
He didn't hear Shen approach. He never did.
Suddenly, a solid, furnace-like heat pressed against his bare back. Two strong arms reached around his waist, pulling him back until his spine was flush against a silk-covered chest. Shen’s hands didn't just rest on him; his fingers splayed wide across Liang's stomach, the touch possessive and terrifyingly deliberate.
Liang jumped, his breath hitching in his throat. "Shen! What the fuck... what are you doing?"
He tried to pull away, but his legs felt like fucking lead. Instead of stepping forward, he found himself leaning back into the touch, his head falling instinctively toward Shen’s shoulder. His brain was screaming get out of there, but his biology was purring like fucking needy a cat.
"You're cold," Shen whispered, his voice a dark, velvet rasp against the sensitive skin of Liang's neck. He didn't let go. Instead, he tightened the hug, his chin resting on Liang’s shoulder. "I'm just making sure my Alpha doesn't freeze to death before breakfast."
"I'm not... I'm not cold," Liang stammered, his face a scorching red. He could feel the vibration of Shen’s chest against his back, and it was making his head swim. "You're crossing a line, man. This isn't... we don't do this."
"Lines are made to be crossed, Liang," Shen murmured, his thumb tracing the waistband of Liang's sweats. Liang felt a shiver run down his spine that had nothing to do with the mountain air. He wanted to shove him off, to reclaim his personal space, but he couldn't find the strength. It felt too good. The fucking idiot part of his brain was currently losing a 2-on-1 fight against his instincts and Shen’s manipulation. He stayed there, wrapped in the Enigma’s arms, breathing in the dark chocolate scent until his knees felt like they were going to buckle.
"Come on," Shen said finally, his voice smug as he felt Liang’s surrender. He gave one final, lingering squeeze before stepping back. "The dads are waiting."
The breakfast spread was massive—bacon, eggs, stacks of pancakes, and fresh fruit—but Liang could barely look at the food. He sat at the long oak table, his eyes fixed on his orange juice as if it held the fucking secrets to the universe.
Beside him, Shen was the picture of regal composure, sipping his coffee as if he hadn't just been marking Liang like fucking territory five minutes ago.
Liang’s head was a mess. Why didn't I move? Why did I lean in? He’s my best friend. He’s an Alpha... well, Enigma, but still. Every time his fork clinked against the plate, he felt like he was announcing his own confusion to the whole fucking room.
"You're awfully quiet, Liang," Gao Tu noted, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "Usually you're halfway through a second plate by now. Is the mountain air too much for you?"
"I'm just... not that hungry," Liang lied, stabbing a piece of bacon.
Across the table, the four dads were watching. Hua Yong and Wenlang shared a silent, loaded look. They knew exactly what was happening. They could smell the way Liang was drenched in Shen’s pheromones, looking like a dazed puppy trying to remember how to fucking walk.
"Well, you better find an appetite," Wenlang rumbled, a twinkle of amusement in his gold eyes. "We’ve got a long day planned. No business talk today. Just family."
"We cleared the lake yesterday," Shayou added, pointing a thumb toward the back of the estate. "The ice is perfect. We’re going skating this afternoon, and we’ll have a bonfire on the shore once the sun starts to dip."
"Skating?" Liang perked up slightly. He was a powerhouse on the ice—it was one of the few places he felt truly in control. "I’m going to smoke you, Shen. Don't cry when you're eating my fucking slush."
Shen didn't look offended. He just leaned over, his shoulder brushing against Liang’s with a weight that felt far from accidental. "We'll see about that, Mate. I think you'll find I'm much harder to shake off on the ice than you think."
Liang went back to his juice, his heart doing that fucking violent kick again. The day was just beginning, and he already felt like he was sliding down a slope he couldn't fucking climb back up.
•••
The afternoon on the lake had been a blurred whirlwind of sharp blades and freezing wind. On the ice, Liang felt like he could finally outrun the fucking confusion. He moved with a raw, athletic grace, carving deep grooves into the frozen surface, his silver-gold eyes focused and bright. But no matter how fast he skated, Shen was always there—a dark, effortless shadow on the ice, gliding beside him, occasionally bumping shoulders just to remind Liang that he was being fucking watched.
By the time the sun began to bleed a deep, bruised purple over the mountain peaks, the exhaustion finally hit.
While the four dads were busy at the bonfire—the orange flames roaring against the darkening sky and the sound of their laughter muffled by the distance—Liang and Shen retreated to the shore. They collapsed into a deep drift of untouched snow, far enough from the fire to be draped in shadows.
Liang was slumped on his back, his chest heaving as he stared up at the first few stars blinking into existence. He closed his eyes, the cold snow biting into his heated skin, feeling a rare moment of peace.
Shen, however, wasn't looking at the stars.
He was propped up on one elbow, hovering over the Alpha. He watched the way the frost clung to Liang’s eyelashes and how the dying sunlight caught the sharp, perfect line of his jaw. In this light, stripped of his bravado and his bickering, Liang looked so fucking beautiful it made Shen’s lungs fucking ache.
Shen snapped. The slow plan and the subtle boundaries vanished, replaced by a sudden, jagged need to fucking touch what was his.
He shifted, moving until he was positioned directly on top of Liang, his weight pressing the Alpha deeper into the soft snow. Liang’s eyes snapped open, a confused "Shen?" dying on his lips as he saw the iridescent violet fire burning in the Enigma’s gaze.
Shen didn't say a word. He reached up and bit into the fingertip of his glove, pulling it off with his teeth and tossing it aside. His bare hand was cold for only a second before it met the furnace-heat of Liang’s face. He traced the curve of Liang's cheek with his thumb, his touch fucking agonizingly slow and deliberate.
Then, his hand slid lower.
His fingers drifted over Liang’s jawline before settling on the pulse point of his neck—the skin there was thin, hot, and thrumming with a fucking frantic heartbeat. Shen let his fingers graze the edge of the skin hidden under the collar of Liang’s jacket.
Liang let out a soft, involuntary moan.
It wasn't a protest. It was a sound of pure, biological surrender. The vibration of it traveled from his throat directly into Shen’s fingertips. Liang’s hands came up, hovering near Shen’s waist, not sure whether to push him away or pull him closer. His brain was fucking offline; the pheromones Shen had been feeding him all day had finally reached a breaking point.
"Shen..." Liang rasped, his eyes fluttering shut again, his head tilting back to give the Enigma more room. "What are you..."
"SHEN! LIANG! WRAP IT UP!"
Gao Tu’s voice boomed across the snow, cutting through the heavy static like a chainsaw. "Dinner’s going to be on the table in ten minutes! If you aren't in the house by then, I'm eating Liang's portion!"
The spell shattered instantly. The heat that had been building between them was fucking sucked away by the mountain wind. Shen froze, his jaw tightening in sheer, unadulterated frustration. He stared down at Liang for one more second—at the Alpha’s flushed face and swollen lips—before he let out a breathy, jagged curse.
"Saved by the bell, Alpha," Shen murmured, his voice thick with a promise of what was coming later. He pulled back, standing up and offering a hand to Liang, who looked like he’d just survived a shitty car wreck.
The lodge’s dining room was warm, smelling of roasted rosemary chicken and red wine, but for Liang, it felt like an interrogation room.
He sat at the table, his fingers trembling slightly as he picked up his fork. He was deep in the trenches of his own mind. I moaned. I actually moaned because he touched my neck. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I broken? He felt like everyone could see it—the way he was practically fucking vibrating, the way he couldn't stop sneaking looks at Shen’s bare hand. Every time his eyes met Shen’s across the table, the Enigma just gave him a tiny, satisfied smirk, as if to say, I know what sound you make now.
"Liang, pass the bread," Shayou said, snapping him out of it.
Liang fumbled the basket, nearly knocking over a water glass. "Yeah. Sorry. Bread. Here."
"You okay, kid? You look like you've seen a ghost," Wenlang noted, leaning back and swirling his wine. His gold eyes were sharp, scanning the flush on Liang’s neck that hadn't quite faded.
"Just... the sun," Liang muttered, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth to stop himself from talking. "Too much sun on the ice. My head’s just spinning a bit."
"Is that right?" Hua Yong rumbled, his voice full of a knowing, paternal amusement. He looked at Shen, then back to Liang. "Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. The mountains can be very... overwhelming... if you aren't used to the pressure."
Liang just nodded, keeping his eyes glued to his plate. He was a fucking idiot, but even he knew that the best friend lie was hanging by a single, fraying thread. But he still didn't understand it. But deep down he did know. He know's it's more than stupid biology.
•••
The lodge at night was a different fucking beast entirely. The grand timbered ceilings seemed to swallow the light, and the only sound was the settling of the massive stone foundation and the distant, muffled wind howling against the ridge.
Liang lay in his bed for two hours, staring at the ceiling, his stomach growling—though he knew it wasn't just hunger. It was the restlessness, the phantom feeling of Shen’s fingers on his neck, and the way the room felt too quiet without the Enigma’s heavy presence. Finally, the fucking idiot decided he needed a distraction.
Food. Just some leftovers. That'll fix the fucking buzzing in my blood, he lied to himself.
He crept out of his room, his bare feet silent on the cold hardwood. He didn't turn on any lights, navigating by the pale, blue moonlight streaming through the high windows. He made it halfway down the long, shadowed hallway toward the kitchen when the darkness itself seemed to move.
A hand shot out from the deep shadows of a recessed alcove, grabbing Liang’s bicep with a grip of pure iron. Before Liang could even gasp, he was spun around and slammed into the wood-paneled wall.
The impact wasn't enough to hurt, but it was enough to fucking knock the breath out of him. Liang’s silver-gold eyes went fucking wide, reflecting the iridescent violet fire of the person pinning him.
"Shen?" Liang rasped, his hands coming up to rest on Shen’s chest. "What the fuck are you—"
"Shh," Shen whispered, leaning in so close their noses fucking brushed. The scent of him was fucking overwhelming in the narrow hallway—dark chocolate, ozone, and a heavy, intentional dose of the pheromones he’d been weaponizing all day. "You’re always so hungry, Liang. I thought I’d help you find what you’re actually looking for."
Shen didn't wait for a reply. He tilted his head, bypassing Liang’s mouth entirely, and buried his face in the crook of the Alpha’s neck.
He didn't bite; he started to kiss.
It was the most fucking sensual, agonizingly slow contact Liang had ever experienced. Shen’s lips were hot against the skin that was still cooling from the mountain air. He trailed his mouth along the line of Liang's throat, his tongue flicking against the pulse point that was jumping like a fucking trapped bird.
Liang’s head thrashed back against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut as a wave of pure fucking, unadulterated pleasure crashed over him. His brain was trying to find a fucking reason to stop, to push Shen away, to call him a fucking idiot and go back to bed, but his body had already defected.
"Shen... fuck..." Liang gasped.
Then, Shen’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin right where the neck met the shoulder, followed by a long, slow lick that felt like liquid fire.
Liang couldn't hold it back. A moan, deeper and much louder than the one at the lake, ripped from his throat. It was a raw, guttural sound of total surrender, echoing through the silent hallway. He gripped Shen’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the silk of the Enigma’s shirt, pulling him in tighter as his knees finally fucking gave out.
Shen caught him, his arms winding around Liang’s waist to keep him pinned against the wall. He hummed against Liang’s skin, the vibration of the sound sending another jolt through the Alpha's system.
"You're so loud, Alpha," Shen murmured against his skin, his breath fucking hot and damp. "Do you want everyone to wake up and see you like this? Do you want your dads to see how much you love it when I touch you like this?"
Liang couldn't even answer. He was fucking shaking, his breath coming in jagged, desperate heaves. He was a varsity Alpha, a powerhouse on the field, a warrior in training—and yet, in this dark hallway, he was nothing more than a puppet on Shen’s strings.
Shen gave one final, lingering kiss to the base of Liang's ear before pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. He saw the glazed, submissive haze in Liang’s silver-gold gaze and felt a surge of possessive triumph so strong it made his own mark itch.
"Go back to bed, Liang," Shen whispered, his voice a dark, satisfied command. "You've had your snack."
Shen stepped back into the shadows, disappearing as silently as he’d arrived. Liang stayed slumped against the wall for a long minute, his chest heaving, his heart fucking screaming truths he still wasn't ready to put into fucking words. So yeah he was still a fucking idiot.
He didn't go to the kitchen. He stumbled back to his room, his skin still fucking burning where Shen’s lips had been, finally realizing that in this mountain fortress, there was no place left to fucking hide.