Work Text:
Meursault gave a quiet sigh, as he threw his things into his locker. The end of the workday came slowly. Meursault didn’t mind working, but he began to have a throbbing pain in his chest near lunchtime. He also felt a sort of inexplicable emptiness within himself, as if something was missing. Though, for the sake of work, he ignored it to the best of his abilities.
Cleaning the trains was tiring under this physical stress. He hated this lonely sensation in him. He racked his brain to see just what it was, but to no avail. So he did what he’s always done- push it out his mind. It didn’t pertain to work. Taking off his WARP uniform, he noticed an odd wetness on the chest area. Giving another sigh, he realized that it was his lactate. He would have to stop by his usual spot to try to attract a bugperson. It was yet another thing to worry about. Putting on his sweater and slacks, Meursault got his bag and clocked out. Instead of a good sleep, he’d be venturing outside of the nest tonight.
The night air was cool and calming. If it weren’t for his present situation, it would otherwise be a nice night for a stroll. The aching in his chest was a little too painful to fully enjoy it. Nervously running his hand through his hair, he stood under a street lamp by the alley, and looked around. The streets were clear. Aside from the occasional car or person passing by, it was the perfect night. Although, despite them being nocturnal, he had trouble seeing or attracting any of the bugpeople. Feeling impatient, he walked down the street and into a deeper, darker alleyway.
He had almost kicked a bugperson, before he heard quiet chirping and gentle fluttering of wings. Meursault looked down. A bugman was on the ground hunched over, feasting on a rat. Two other eaten rats were next to him. He recognized the bugman- the dirty bandages on his face and long brown hair with a lost and sort of sad looking expression was hard to forget. He had “helped” Meursault with his problem a few months ago. It was surprising seeing him still alive.
Gregor paused, and sniffed the air for a moment. He stood up. Using his antennae, like last time, he inspected the man before him. It was indeed the same person who he had fed on, and now he was here again with a full chest. Remembering the warm, milky feeling made Gregor excited. So excited, in fact, that he began to lick on Meursault’s sweater. The taller man gently pushed Gregor back, and took off his sweater. He then unbuttoned and took off his dress shirt, and sat down against the wall. His legs ached too much to stand any longer. Gregor hunched down between Meursault’s legs, and collapsed into his chest, resting fully on the taller man. Meursault put a hand on the back of the bugman’s head, leading him to a nipple, and used his other hand to squeeze on the breast.
Gregor latched on and feverishly sucked. He’s had breast milk once or twice after he last saw this man, and none of it tasted as good or was as nutritious as his. His nap afterwards last time was the best sleep he’s ever had. Meanwhile, while Gregor sucked, Meursault tilted his head back and clenched his teeth. The emptiness in him almost felt like it was pointing directly towards the bugman. He had heard about how the bugpeople sometimes bred with those they encountered. Typically, it was advised to not get bred by them, as the eggs can’t be fertilized. Plus, they made you feel full yet insanely hungry, and laying the eggs was somewhat a painful and weird experience. However, they stop lactate production and also suppresses any maternal instincts (and general instincts to become pregnant and give birth) for a good few months with no downsides besides being uncomfortable for a bit (also gave some workers paid maternal/paternal leave), so people sometimes seek out bugpeople for the sole reason of becoming impregnated by them.
Meursault thought for a moment and weighed his options. It wasn’t smart to be bred by the bugman, but he would have to get pregnant and give birth to a child he didn’t want in order for his emptiness to go away. And he found the bugman quite cute. Meursault looked down at him, watching the bugman suckle on his chest. Sucking noises and bug-like clicks of pleasure escaped him. Moving onto the next nipple, Gregor gave a few good licks before latching on. His claws went around Meursault, though he wasn’t trying to hold him in place like last time.
Watching and being so close to the bugman got Meursault increasingly excited. He didn’t smell pleasant and was eating rats just a few minutes before, but the instinct to be bred ignored that. The emptiness ached in anticipation. To let the bugperson know that you want to be bred is fairly simple- you just have to “present” yourself to them (and apparently, licking them in the face also works, but is a little dirty). They are almost always willing to breed. The drive in them is 10x stronger than that of a non-bugperson. It was thought that they didn’t feel love or attachment, so another benefit was a sort of “no strings attached” type of deal.
While Gregor sucked, Meursault began to undo the bugman’s belt. Reaching into his dirty jeans, Meursault gently gripped and began to slowly stroke the bugman. Its flaccid state slowly hardened, and Gregor began to suck harder. Feeling the milk supply lessen, he detached and lapped the nipple. The hand wrapped around him felt impossibly good, and when Meursault removed it, he began to hump at the taller man’s clothed leg. He needed to breed the same way Meursault needed to be bred.
Meursault pushed him away, and got up to undo his own belt. Sliding off his pants, he stared at the bugman’s member, throbbing and twitching. Looking around for a moment, he then kneeled back down, and put his face to the ground, his ass in the air. He felt thin antennae investigate his backside for a moment, and was suddenly gripped by the large claws. The serrations hurt and dug into his sides. But the thought of being bred made him ignore and accept the pain. Gregor then put his hips back, then came forward, missing a few times before successfully inserting himself into Meursault. The man was too large for Gregor to plant both knees on the ground, so he assumed a squatting position.
He began to hump into him at a quick and excited pace. The bugman wasn't exactly the largest, but the thought of being bred excited and pleased Meursault. He didn’t show it with his face, however. His brows were furrowed, one eye closed and mouth hung open. Gregor thrusted into his womb. Precum dribbled out of Meursault’s throbbing member. Clicks of pleasure left Gregor, and he began to thrust harder and steadier. His claws dug deeper into Meursault’s sides. He then leaned forward, and scruffed the larger man with his teeth. Meursault’s mind went blank, the instincts to let himself be bred overcame everything. Teeth sank into his nape. Meursault didn’t need to be scruffed like how the bugpeople do to each other, as non-bugpeople typically don’t do such animalistic practices. But it was the meaning that was so pleasurable- it meant that they were going to finish in you and fill you no matter what, and that you were theirs to breed. The thought of “the only purpose you have is to lay their eggs” was so pleasurable to Meursault.
Gregor squeezed his eyes shut. He breathed in the scent of his mate. The thick smell of hormones mixed with hints of cologne and coffee drove him a bit insane. He loved and absorbed the smell. He’s mated before, but never with a regular human male. Bugpeople all had the same musky odor, with no discernible differences, but non-bugpeople smelt so good. He continued breathing in Meursault’s smell. He wanted to be mixed with the smell and claim the man for himself as a mate. Gregor opened his mouth, and clamped back down. A low moan rose out from Meursault’s throat, the pain mixing with the pleasure. The sensation of his womb being fucked, along with the noises emitting from the bugman, made precum leak out of him in large drops, as he began to stroke himself.
The bugman picked up his already quick pace. Breeding the man under him was the only thing he could think of at the moment. Meursault spread his legs more, and began to stroke harder. Gregor’s mind went hazy, and he knew he was close. His wings went stiff. A tightness in his abdomen signaled that he was incredibly close. The thought of filling this wonderful smelling man with his eggs was all he could think about. And for Meursault, the thought of being filled made his cock throb harder. He was so close.
Gregor gave a few last thrusts, before inserting himself fully into Meursault’s womb. Clamping down as hard as he can on his neck, Gregor released his eggs. His semen, a watery consistency with small beads of eggs, filled the aching womb. Meursault clenched his teeth, feeling himself be filled to the brim, and released his own cum onto the ground beneath him. Gregor breathed out rapidly through his clamped teeth, and his claws dug into and held the man in place. Breeding had never felt this good for him. With other bugpeople, he’d quickly fuck, orgasm, and leave to eat something or nap. But with this large man, it was just so different. He’s never orgasmed this hard or long before. Even when he had filled the womb to the brim, he couldn’t stop. Despite the intense volume of liquid, only about 8 or 10 eggs will enlarge and be laid. But that didn’t matter too much in the moment. Meursault’s knees gave way, as they both collapsed and lay on the ground.
The two lay there, backs heaving in exhaustion. Post-breeding bliss filled the two with a deep and warm pleasure. Meursault would’ve turned around and kissed the bugman if he wasn’t so exhausted. A clicking, almost like a purr, emitted from Gregor, as he pulled out and held onto the man closely. They were both so warm. Suddenly, however, Meursault quickly sobered up, realized that he was out in public, and began to get up. The bugman gave a whine, and sat back on his heels. Meursault, very business-like, sat with his back to the wall, slipping on his pants. He had achieved his goal and was, frankly, exhausted from the fucking. As he slipped on his shoes, he looked at the bugman. His antenne twitched with a puzzled look on his face, as if to ask, “where are you going?”
Meursault paused, feeling a twinge of guilt. He knew that the bugman wanted him to be his mate, and that they didn’t understand that the eggs could never hatch. He thought for a moment.
He knew that he couldn’t let the bugman go home with him- he’ll be culled by local security. Plus, their main diet is human. He could steal bits from work or even kill whatever low life he could find in the Backstreets. But it would be too hard to hide that for long. His apartment didn’t have enough room, and the bugman would be stuck inside all day.
Sighing, he put on his shoes, and stood up. The bugman stood up also, and looked up at the taller man. Meursault put a hand on the scraggly brown hair, and gave small strokes.
“I’m going to go home now,” Meursault said, praying the bugman could understand his words. “I’ll come back another time. Promise.”
Gregor raised an eyebrow and frowned. He extended his claws, and pulled Meursault in for a hug, nuzzling into his chest. The taller man gave another sigh, and kissed the top of his head. After a minute or so, Gregor released him, and reluctantly turned to leave. Meursault was surprised the bugman understood what he meant.
He glanced at his watch. The Sweepers would be out soon. It was time to go. He made his way out the alley, and turned his head. The bugman stood there, antennas flicking, with a light smile on his dirty face. Meursault smiled back (to the best of his abilities) and gave a small wave, and began his walk back home.