Mama Reyes
Gabriel tried to think who the fuck he pissed off to end up where he was. How many things had to just go ass over kettle wrong to end up in this fucking situation. The mission was done but had gone to utter hell. They’d nearly been blown up. Gabriel had narrowly missed getting his head smashed by debris but for the most part he was fine.
A cough came from his lap and Gabriel looked down at the idiot of a teen who’d taken not just a few shots to the body armor but a blow to the head that had been meant for him. In truth…his gut went cold as he thought about it… Jesse was in very bad shape. He did what he could for the kid, got them to a safe spot if small and enclosed waiting for pickup, but now they had to wait.
He tightened the belt around McCree’s upper left arm, down near the elbow. Then there was that…or what was left of that. Damnit the kid didn’t have time…
As McCree moved and groaned and tears started to fall again from the pain Gabe could do nothing about he felt a pain in his chest. No, he told himself, it wasn’t from the situation. God he didn’t need to encourage the pup but he was still Gabe’s responsibility.
No he and Jack had gotten into a tiff about the operation and he hadn’t been milked since Tuesday and if his watch was right (after he rubbed Jesse’s blood off the face of it) it was now Sunday.
“Fuck”
He could tell Jesse was trying damn hard to keep quiet, to be tough, to be a bad ass for his boss and idol. The tears didn’t help and he could see fear in his eyes when they opened all the way. He was shaking hard and trying not to shake…
“…don’t wanna die…” Were Gabe a softer man he’d tear up himself. The abject fear in the boy’s voice seemed only to harden his resolve… and make his damn tits hurt.
He remembered the grumpy ol white men at the Institute that were in charge of the whole Super Soldier program. The same fuckers who told him the ‘abnormal lactation’ was just a side effect of his new situation also told him never under any circumstances share the stuff outside of anyone in the program. Fuck they still asked for monthly samples to check levels of their precious serum. He hated pump n dump days.
He also knew his ‘side effect’ could heal. It worked on Jack after they’d had a punch down, drag out fight which ended in a hell of a hate fuck. They’d damn near cracked Jack’s desk in half and moved it a couple of inches with how hard Gabe rode him and let the fucker nurse afterwards because he’d gotten Gabe so worked up.
The black eye was gone before he’d finished with one side.
True Jack also had the same stuff flowing in his veins and he’d been exposed to Gabe’s milk since they’d been partnered back in the program. Gabe looked down at Jesse, moving his left arm up to keep it elevated and earning another muffled cry.
Who the fuck did he piss off to end up like this?
“Kid? Gunna do something and you gotta fucking swear you will never ever mention it under pain of death to anyone.” Gabe muttered more than ordered. He managed to hike up his shirt and get Jesse sitting up without hurting what was left of his mangled arm. “Thirsty kid?”
Jesse nodded, licking blooded and chapped lips. Gabe frowned and wet his own thumb in his mouth before smudging the pad across Jesse’s lips. Hell if he’d let the kid do this with scratchy skin.
He grabbed the back of Jesse’s head and neck firmly but moved gently to guide his face to his chest. “Just like your mama did, mijo.” he urged. Maybe the kid was out of it enough, maybe the shit he read about people when in a weakened state or exhausted would suckle if presented the opportunity was true, but after a few clumsy seconds McCree had his lips around Gabe’s puffy nipple and started to suck.
Gabe pulled his beanie down lower on his head and grunted. It ached, it hurt, the first few pulls always did and the idiot didn’t know what he was doing. Gabriel pushed the kid’s face closer until he felt a proper seal. The kid’s tongue wrapped around the bottom of his nipple and he pulled…
Both groaned a little as the first spurt landed on McCree’s tongue. He tried to pull back but Gabe, who was looking anywhere but down, wouldn’t let him.
“Suck and drink and maybe you won’t die out here.” Gabe ordered and felt relief as McCree redoubled his concussed efforts to do as ordered.
Gabe shifted the boy in his lap for a better position, pulled his shirt back over to cover McCree so he wouldn’t look but it made it worse. He was so warm compared to McCree’s cooling body. Blood loss, shock, concussion…the words played in his head making him cradle (fucking cradle and rock) the gunslinger in his arms and lap as he nursed.
Gabe refused to look down but he could hear just fine. The wet sucking noises, the slurps as McCree tried to get the technique down. He grunted and moaned a little as he swallowed - one part relief one part pain. He’d inhaled some smoke and his throat was raw. That faded though as the serum in Gabe started to work on McCree. Soon it was gentle noises, slurps and sucks and little hums.
The pressure in his chest changed from being milk heavy to too many feelings. He glared a damn hole in the wall trying not to think about any of it.
It was oddly nice to have the kid in his arms, plant and obedient, as he drank deeply from what Gabe offered. A hard kick of paternal protection (maybe a little maternal instinct?) assaulted Gabe’s ribs when Jesse pulled off a moment to breath and hiccup. It only made the kid sob in pain.
“shh… “ Gabe pulled his shirt up so he could guide McCree’s lips back to his tit, watched his eyes close and see in the scant light of the street lamps outside tracks of tears and sluggish blood. “Keep drinking.”
He hated it. He hated how vulnerable the kid was, how he knew this was only going to fucking make life harder with the pup at his heels, how he just wanted the kid to be ok and to get this damn pressure off his chest.
When Gabe shifted Jesse to the other side, putting the stump of his arm up on Gabe’s shoulder he started to cry in earnest, wailing in pain. Gabe muttered assurances, nothing words ( it meant nothing) to try and sooth him and get him to empty the other still swollen tit.
He hated the sight of Jesse’s eyes closing as he nursed, the trickle of milk down his chin. Slob. He didn’t realize he watched McCree suckle for a good long while with a hand rubbing absently at the kid’s belly until he fell asleep. At least asleep he’d stop making those noises that made milk dribble out of his nipple like it was now, cold and exposed without McCree’s mouth and tongue to wrap around it. At least he couldn’t cry in pain. He brushed a bloody strand out of Jesse’s face and just watched him sleep.
There would be NO living with Jesse Fucking McCree after this.
At least he’d live.