Chapter Text
It was hilariously easy to break into Drake’s room after the rest of the manor’s inhabitants had retreated to their proper quarters.
Damian was able to easily pick his lock and disarm the alarms the pack omega had wired around his room. Father was dead asleep down the hall and would be so until the morning. Grayson had already long departed to return to his apartment in the city and Todd rarely decided to return to the pack den unless he was gravely injured with no other choice.
Drake was unconscious in his room and had been since before Damian had left for patrol. Pennyworth and Father both reached a mutual agreement on forcing bedrest on the omega when they believed he had pushed himself too close to the edge.
Too many all night investigations, too few meals, too many hours without a break.
With a few choice words and subliminal messaging, Damian was able to force their hands into deciding to slip Drake sleep aids. A few crushed pills into a glass of fruit juice that Drake downed without hesitation at dinner.
Damian had made sure to pay extra close attention and make sure the omega had swallowed it all. Of course he hadn’t been too obvious about it.
Father was still dubious on the morality of drugging his ward, even if it may be for his own health. Damian, of course, had no such qualms.
Within the League of Assassins Damian had been surrounded by endless rows of omegas to nurse from.
In Gotham there was only a single, detestable omega within the pack and he’d yet to offer himself for Damian to finally establish himself.
A clear underhanded sleight to drive him further from his Father and new pack.
Well if that’s how Drake wanted to play it then Damian would just need to beat him at his own game.
Drake was tucked under a thick blue comforter, the scheme too reminiscent of Grayson’s colors to be a coincidence. Damian deftly pulled it off, peeling the bedding off the omega and dumping it on the ground.
Drake slept like a corpse, body stiff and laid out straight like he was resting in a coffin. His arms rested on either side of him, hands tucked into the long sleeves of his pajama top.
Damian made a light noise of pleasure, noting the thin button-up pajama set. It seemed as though Pennyworth had earned himself a reward for making Damian’s access to the omega’s desired parts much easier. Whether he knew it or not.
Slowly climbing onto the bed, Damian felt the mattress under him shift with the addition of his weight as he crawled up the length of Drake’s immobile body.
Drake’s brows were furrowed, permanently etched into a slight frown even in his sleep.
Damian moved to slowly straddle his left thigh, his smaller hands resting softly on the omega’s lower stomach. Through the thinness of the fabric Damian was able to feel the heat radiating from Drake’s skin.
Summer had long since arrived and Damian knew that the exit of the Spring season was when all omega’s were leaving their ovulatory phase and entering the luteal phase. One where unmated omegas, like Drake, would experience a spike in their progesterone and estrogen for the anticipation of being pupped.
Unless of course, they already had a pup. In which case those hormone levels would fall and instead the omega would be flooded with waves of prolactin.
Which would lead to-
Damian carefully undid the first few buttons of Drake’s top, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and exposing the tender swell of his breasts to the night air. Damian felt his breath hitch slightly, his milk teeth aching in his mouth as he used the tips of his fingers to delicately press around the tissue surrounding the nipple.
His nose was immediately flooded with the scent of thick, dam lactate. Drake’s brow twitched but he stayed asleep.
It’d been a long time since Damian had last nursed. The final time being just before he departed from the League from one of his more favored maids. He’d arrived to his Father’s side without any preparation made- only to be met with a single, audacious omega.
One who didn’t even start milking for him until nature had run its course almost a full year later. Because dynamics didn’t recognize whether or not a pup belonged to an omega, just that it needed to be provided for.
However, Damian was under no illusion that Drake would so easily come to accept him with nothing but the changing of the seasons. Drake would milk, his body would produce just for Damian.
But. He. Wouldn’t. Let. Damian. Drink.
So if Damian had to resort to the underhanded tactics that his pack so boldly frowned upon then so be it.
Drake’s nipples were a light pink- puckered and slightly swollen with the light trickle of milk leaking out of it as Damian pinched the tissue.
Damian let out a slight sigh, an eager energy building in his gut as he crouched forward. One hand gripped Drake’s tit, peaking the nipple up. The other rested beside Drake’s face, nails digging into the fabric of his pillow as Damian lowered his mouth to the milky, soft breast.
The minute Damian’s lips touched the warm skin, years of muscle memory immediately kicked in. A throaty coo of pleasure vibrated in his throat as he settled down, firmly straddling Drake’s leg. His milk teeth dug slightly into the skin surrounding the areola, lips locking around the mound as he worked his jaw to suck.
Damian was instantly rewarded with a flood of thick milk filling his mouth. Slightly bland and nowhere near as sweet as the milk from some of the omegas in the League, but it would suffice.
With a few diet changes and time, Damian was sure he could get Drake to start producing something more suited to his palette. Still, months of going without gave Damian’s suckling more of a desperate edge.
The nearly empty room was filled with the sound of Damian’s frantic, wet sucking and little pup whines as his hand squeezed Drake’s tit to give him more-
The sound of Drake letting out a light murmur had Damian freezing in place, his mouth almost swallowing the entire omega tit into his mouth. Immediately, Damian popped off, his lips unlatching with a slight sound as his raised his head to stare up at Drake’s closed eyes.
Still asleep.
Damian couldn’t help the relief that filled him at the sight. Drake’s brow was furrowed deeper, his mouth moving slightly with inaudible words but still clearly caught in the drug induced haze that left him at Damian’s mercy.
Damian let his tongue poke out, swiping at his lower lips and corner of his mouth to lick up the drops of milk he’d spit out in his haste. Messy.
With all the decorum he could muster, Damian wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, clearing away smears of spit and half dried milk. Part of Damian whined at the waste of milk now clinging to his fabric, but not enough for him to not immediately return to his task.
Drake’s breast had swelled with the release of milk, skin red and hot from where Damian had been making liberal use of his teeth and abusing the tit. He swallowed thickly at the sight of two perfect omega breasts milking for him.
Drake made a fine omega, no one could argue that. Nice, aristocratic features any alpha would find themselves fortunate to call their own.
But his breasts were small. Little mounds of tissue that Damian could cup in their entirety in his little pup hands. Damian was likely his first pup given how little the tissue had expanded. In the coming seasons they would grow bigger, to accommodate the needs and demands of his new pup.
Within a month or so Damian could see them growing to the size of little peaches, and just as rosy too.
But for now they were small, little things with a limited supply. Even before he'd pulled off, Damian had been sucking harder just to get the same amount of milk that had filled his mouth in the beginning.
In his greed he’d almost immediately drained half of the omega’s supply dry. Stupid.
Damian held back the whine bubbling in his throat and more delicately bent over to switch tits, consciously holding himself back as he carefully latched on.
Every part of him itched to bite and knaw and suck at the tit in his mouth. But Damian resisted, nose pressing into the soft flesh of Drake’s chest as he slowly and clinically worked his jaw to savor every wave of milk. Again, bland. Like unflavored oatmeal.
Damian’s other hand continued to grip Drake’s free tit, fingers massaging and working the abused flesh to simulate a pup nursing from an emptied breast. A few more nights and Drake’s body would begin getting the message to produce more.
Meanwhile, Damian would have to content himself with what he had for the time being.
Well into the night, Damian nursed from Drake as he slept, swallowing every drop of milk like it was precious. Occasionally switching breasts to make sure the omega knew he was failing his pup, displeasing him with his small stores of milk.
By the time he was done, Drake was panting- brows furrowed deeply but too caught in the drugged haze to pull himself awake.
Damian gingerly buttoned Drake’s pajama top back up and situated the comforter on top of him. Moving and adjusting it until no one could tell that he had been disturbed.
On silent feet, Damian left, retreating back to his room and with his mind swirling for plans of improving the taste and supply from his new omega.
Drake is the last of the family to wander in for breakfast, eyes deep with dark circles as he practically collapses into his seat.
Grayson is happily chatting to their Father, blue eyes bright with a night of good rest. Father is listening with half an ear to his eldest alpha child, eyes mainly focused on the morning paper in front of him.
Damian is focused on his pancakes and side of fruit to give anything beyond the appearance of a cursory glance. He can’t be seen giving Drake too much attention at the risk of arousing suspicion in a family full of detectives.
Pennyworth’s arrival to the dining room with Drake’s tray shines a spotlight on the newly awakened omega.
“My word, Master Tim,” Pennyworth frowns as he lays Drake’s breakfast in front of him.
The omega is still blinking away sleep, his head balanced on his hand.
“Did you rest at all last night?” Pennyworth continues to frown, Father matches his look as he slowly lowers his paper. Grayson’s brows furrow in concern.
“You okay, Timmy?”
Drake makes a low rumbling sound, his hands reaching for his fork to dig into the slice of frittata on his plate.
“I don’t know,” Drake sighs, frowning slightly as he begins cutting his eggs into pieces with the side of his utensil. “I mean I slept through the night- but I still woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus.”
Father frowns, his lips turning down at Drake’s words.
“Adjusting to a new sleep schedule can sometimes take its toll, Tim.” Father offers, straightening in his seat as Alfred begins making a round at the table, refilling glasses and plates. “With some time and other adjustments I’m sure you’ll be able to shake off some of these side-effects.”
Drake raises drowsy eyes towards the head of the pack before lowering back down and nodding slowly in agreement. Just as Drake begins reaching for the glass of orange juice at his side- it is quickly replaced with a different glass by Alfred.
Drake doesn’t notice the switch until he’s already lifted the glass and downed half its contents. His resulting frown is met with a quick explanation by the beta.
“Carrot juice, Master Tim.” Alfred primly explains. “The vitamins will do you some good, heavens know you need it.”
Drake pouts slightly before stuffing his mouth full of egg, cheese, and tomatoes.
Damian watches him from under his lashes, green eyes locking onto how Drake shifts uncomfortably in his seat, hands occasionally rising and falling from wanting to rub his chest.
Damian was too rough with him the night before. Of course he woke up to sensitive nipples chafed and nearly rubbed raw from all the nursing Damian had done. Of course Drake had nothing to compare the feeling to, so to him it would be just another symptom of his sleep schedule.
Both Pennyworth and Father would begin pushing lifestyle changes onto Drake- beginning with his diet and sleep schedule. The additional Vitamin A from the daily intake of carrot juice would do wonders to improve the taste of Drake’s bland milk into a more sweet cream for Damian.
That is if all his weeks worth of research were to be believed.
Burying his smirk into the forkful of pancake getting stuffed into his mouth, Damian reached for his own glass of juice. Swiftly replaced by Pennyworth for a different glass.
Damian immediately shot an indignant glare at the beta who was unphased.
“The same goes for you, Master Damian.” Pennyworth reported. Damian turned his eyes to the glass filled to the brim with-
“Milk makes for strong bones and an active pup such as yourself will need all the vitamins and nutrients he can get.”
Damian stared at the glass blankly. His hands delicately reached for the glass, cupping the cold glass and bringing it close to his chest.
On scent, Damian could tell it was the pasteurized organic cow milk that Pennyworth purchased from the health food store he bought all their groceries from.
Damian almost felt insulted, slighted at being offered a lesser form of nutrition when the superior form was sitting in front of him, sloppily stuffing his face. Damian could feel his lips curling, anger and annoyance building in him before being stopped at the look Father was leveling at him.
Damian huffed, ears red as he raised the disgusting glass to his mouth, lips curling around the rim.
The milk was cold and brisk, the slightest hint of sweet and rich without the filtering of its fats and cholesterol. The taste was a step up from Drake’s but there was something so distant about it.
Nursing from Drake, the milk had been warm and fresh. Thicker than the one in Damian’s glass. The feel of warm skin under his hands, the slight salty taste of sweat on his tongue when he first latched on.
Damian swallowed back a mouthful, forehead creased as he tried clinging to the memory of Drake from the night before.
Setting the glass down harsher than necessary, Damian returned to his breakfast. His eyes occasionally straying up to Drake, watching as his hands clenched and unclenched on the table. Hands aching to soothe his sore chest as Damian watched. His breasts curved slightly under the thin fabric, if Damian focused enough he could see the peaks of his nipples still perked up from the night before.
Damian swallowed another mouthful of disgusting, cold milk.
Soon. He thought to himself, milk teeth aching and mouth itching for the urge to latch onto Drake’s breasts. Soon.