Work Text:
Shen Qingqiu paced outside of Luo Binghe’s tent, turning his fan over anxiously in his hands.
They’d made camp at the edge of a recent battlefield. Luo Binghe’s forces had been up against the enchanted army of an evil demonic sorceress, one who had bewitched all of her followers into sacking human and demon towns alike along the borderlands.
The battle had gone well. It was one Shen Qingqiu was actually a bit excited to see! In the original, of course, Luo Binghe had eventually snuck into the sorceress’ camp and seduced her—their sexcapades had included lots of inventive uses of the demoness’ magic powers. Shen Qingqiu knew that his Binghe wouldn’t be doing any of that, but her magic was still pretty cool, and her enchanted army an interesting fight for their forces. And it had been! They had gone through all of her enchanted followers easily enough. Only at the last minute, when they had cornered the sorceress herself…
“Shizun can come in,” Luo Binghe’s voice said quietly from inside the tent.
Shen Qingqiu threw aside the flap at once and strode inside to find Luo Binghe sitting on the chest that they kept their clothes in with his hair down and his robes loose, worrying his guan between his palms.
“What is it? What did she do?” Shen Qingqiu demanded.
Luo Binghe’s gaze lowered and he bit his bottom lip. “This Binghe is… ashamed to say.”
!!!
“Luo Binghe could never shame this master,” Shen Qingqiu said firmly. He went over and sat next to Luo Binghe, placing his hand on his shoulder and looking into his shiny eyes. “Whatever it is, we will face it together.”
Luo Binghe met his eyes for just a moment before looking back down to his lap. He mumbled something that even Shen Qingqiu’s cultivation-enhanced hearing failed to pick up on.
“What was that?”
Luo Binghe’s face went pink. “This one said… that the sorceress reduced… this one’s… manhood.”
Shen Qingqiu felt his eyebrows hit his hairline.
“What—”
“Please don’t make this one say it again.”
Shen Qingqiu’s gaze swept over Luo Binghe, although of course there was no way to tell if what he said was true just by looking at him (with his pants on, that was). What he did see was that Luo Binghe looked uncomfortable and deeply embarrassed. Whatever else was happening, that wouldn’t do. He reached out and grasped Luo Binghe’s hands in his own, tugging until Luo Binghe looked back up at him.
“We’ll make that sorceress pay for hurting you, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said seriously. And he meant it! How horrible! How must Luo Binghe feel to be—to be diminished! He was the protagonist, unbeatably desirable, unbeatably powerful. He wasn’t supposed to be—emasculated!
Not more than Shen Qingqiu had already done by bending him, anyway…
“But Shizun,” Luo Binghe mumbled, his eyes becoming teary, that lower lip wobbling tremulously. “Does Shizun think that this Binghe is… lesser? Like this?”
!!!
This protagonist! Always trying to give him a heart attack!
“Absolutely not,” Shen Qingqiu was quick to assure. “Binghe, it doesn’t matter to me what, erm, equipment you’re working with. This master would still be happy even if Binghe didn’t have—have one at all! What matters is that Binghe is the one attached to it. Besides, just being a little smaller… that’s really not so bad, right? And we’ll get it fixed for you soon, so…”
“Shizun doesn’t want to have sex together until it’s fixed?” Luo Binghe asked. His eyes, if anything, got shinier and wetter.
“This master would have sex right now!” Shen Qingqiu declared, and he had to resist the instant impulse to stab himself to death for declaring that so brazenly aloud. What was wrong with him???
“Do you mean it?” Luo Binghe asked. The tears dried in favour of adopting an excitable puppy expression that probably shouldn’t have been attractive to a sane individual but was, a bit, to Shen Qingqiu. And, well, if that protagonist was looking that excited, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t walk it back now .
“Yes,” he said stiffly, and then let out an ‘ eep’ as Luo Binghe lunged forward to pounce on him. “Binghe!”
Luo Binghe was already wrapping his arms around Shen Qingqiu, but Shen Qingqiu batted at his hands with his fan.
“Wait, wait! Just because I agreed doesn’t mean we can drop everything. If Binghe wants to get back to normal we’ll have to track down the demonic sorceress who cursed you!”
Luo Binghe whined and clung, but allowed Shen Qingqiu to write a quick note to Mobei-jun (or, more likely, Shang Qinghua) informing them that Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe would be returning to the Bamboo House and that the others should finish clearing out this particular nest of demonic dissidents. He mentioned, in oblique terms, that Luo Binghe had been attacked by the demonic sorceress, but did not specify the effects. What, was he supposed to just go around announcing to the world that his husband was dealing with—that he had been—well! No man wanted to admit to that. Surely being bent now didn’t mean that Luo Binghe lacked masculine pride. Just look at him, he was already so anxious and worried that Shen Qingqiu would judge him.
Only when that was done did he allow Luo Binghe to sweep him up into his arms. On instinct, Shen Qingqiu wrapped his arms around Luo Binghe’s broad shoulders. Not because he wanted to look like a maiden being carried! Only because… it was more secure. And comfortable.
Luo Binghe looked down at him with his big black eyes. They were sparkling particularly brightly today, the lashes a dark line on his cheek with the way his head was tilted to gaze at Shen Qingqiu.
“Is Shizun sure?” he asked in a small voice. “We could go and attempt to track that sorceress now. This one would hate to disappoint Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat so he could speak past the lump that he often got from seeing Luo Binghe’s luminous face up too close. “Didn’t this master just say that it’s not the size that matters to him? Let’s just go. If Binghe waits too long, this master will begin to suspect it’s Binghe who isn’t interested.”
“Of course not, Shizun!”
Luo Binghe shifted so that Shen Qingqiu was held in only one arm, drew Xin Mo, and swept them away at once.
Shen Qingqiu’s back hit the bed with a whumph of soft blankets and pillows. Luo Binghe tossed him onto the bedspread with force, only to carefully cup the back of his neck as he did so that he dropped gently, making him feel like something precious and rare.
Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat, flushing. Luo Binghe leaned his hands on the side of the bed so that he could lean over Shen Qingqiu, smiling down at him. His cheeks had their own slight pinkness of familiar attraction, his insatiable husband clearly already feeling heated. Shen Qingqiu squirmed, ignoring the buzz under his own skin.
“Well?” he said. “This master is waiting.”
Luo Binghe’s grin widened. He reached out and grasped one end of Shen Qingqiu’s belt, tugging at it like one end of the bow on a present. He unwrapped him from his robes the same way, peeling each layer off slowly. Each time Shen Qingqiu grew frustrated with his slowness and made to sit up and strip himself, Luo Binghe pushed him back down and pressed kisses to his neck and cheek until he was still again.
However, when Shen Qingqiu was laying bare on the bed, his cock exposed and pink, already more than half-hard, and Luo Binghe climbed onto the bed himself, Shen Qingqiu had enough.
“ Ahem, ” he said, raising one eyebrow and pushing himself to sit up with some effort (his arms were feeling oddly noodly after all that kissing, hm). “Isn’t Binghe forgetting something?”
Luo Binghe, now straddling his hips, still fully clothed in both his Demonic Emperor robes and several pieces of the armour he wore for battle, blinked innocently at Shen Qingqiu.
“No, Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu grabbed his fan off of the bedside table just to smack Luo Binghe on the thigh with it. Luo Binghe groaned, his eyes going half-lidded, which made Shen Qingqiu smack him again—definitely as punishment for being indecent, and not so that he would make the sound again.
“Don’t call me Shizun in bed,” he hissed.
“Sorry, Qingqiu…”
“Isn’t Binghe forgetting to take off his clothes?”
Luo Binghe shifted guiltily. Shen Qingqiu took this as an implicit show of guilt and began to undress Luo Binghe in turn, starting with the pieces of armour that were currently pinching and poking uncomfortably against Shen Qingqiu’s bare skin.
Luo Binghe allowed this, using the occupation of Shen Qingqiu’s hands to stroke his own down Shen Qingqiu’s back, his flank, his ribs. He kissed down Shen Qingqiu’s jaw and along his neck, ducking his head to place feather-light kisses across his chest.
Shen Qingqiu’s breath quickened and his brow furrowed as he forced himself to pay attention to getting his husband undressed, despite Luo Binghe’s best attempts at distraction. However, when he got to the tie of Luo Binghe’s pants, Luo Binghe stilled and carefully grabbed his wrist.
“Wait,” he said, and Shen Qingqiu halted at once, unused to Luo Binghe being the one to stop them from getting more amorous.
Luo Binghe didn’t meet his eyes. He turned the hold on Shen Qingqiu’s wrist into a caress, running his thumb over the light blue veins visible under Shen Qingqiu’s pale skin.
“Is Shizun sure he wants to… like this?” Luo Binghe asked. “Shizun doesn’t have to force himself to take it when this one is… less than his best. This one would be happy to receive. If Shizun wants. Then Shizun would not have to deal with this one’s inadequacy.”
This needy protagonist!! Ridiculous!!
“Luo Binghe is mistaken. Binghe could never be inadequate to this master,” Shen Qingqiu said firmly.
Luo Binghe ducked his head, unconvinced. Well! How could Shen Qingqiu let that stand? He couldn’t leave this protagonist feeling lesser, in a world where he was so obviously the best!
Shen Qingqiu hooked a finger under Luo Binghe’s chin, raising his head until their eyes met. He steeled himself, forcing the words from his lips.
“This master… wants Binghe inside of him. I want Binghe to take me. Will Binghe deny this master?”
Luo Binghe’s whole face lit up, his eyes going huge and wide, his downturned lips curving into something soft and awed. It was like watching a flower drink up water after a drought and bloom again.
“Of course not, Shizun! I mean Qingqiu! Of course, whatever Qingqiu wants!”
With that assurance, Luo Binghe dove back in with vigour. He kissed Shen Qingqiu, kneaded his thighs with strong hands, and generally drove him to distraction. This time, when a scowling Shen Qingqiu tugged insistently on the waist of his pants, Luo Binghe bashfully allowed Shen Qingqiu to pull them off, leaving them both bare to each other.
Upon inspection, the new, slightly less heavenly pillar was…normal! What was he supposed to say? He’d watched some pretty unrealistic porn in his last life (and paid an average amount of attention to the dicks of the men participating, thanks. Even straight men could appreciate the male ‘endowments’ out of a sense of academic curiosity! How else could you imagine how the woman would be feeling??), but even the shittiest hentai fantasy couldn’t hold a candle to Luo Binghe’s usual impressive ‘assets.’ The Heavenly Pillar was just too huge, okay! And now Luo Binghe looked… well, like any many from the less unrealistic porn he’d seen. Still a bit bigger than Shen Qingqiu himself, in fact, and wasn’t that a blow to the ego?
“Shizun isn’t disappointed?” Luo Binghe asked, catching Shen Qingqiu considering the pillar in question.
“Not at all,” Shen Qingqiu said quickly. As proof, he wrapped his hand firmly around the base of Luo Binghe’s cock. He might have, possibly, in his haste, gripped a bit too tight, because Luo Binghe made a punched-out noise that went straight to Shen Qingqiu’s own cock. He loosened his grip and realised with surprise that he could actually wrap his fingers all around Luo Binghe like this. He slid his palm up and down a few times experimentally, getting a feel for the new dimensions he was working with, as Luo Binghe shifted and squirmed on top of him.
“Binghe, oil,” he commanded.
“Yes, Qingqiu,” Luo Binghe said at once, leaning over to grab the bottle from their bedside. The position bumped their cocks against each other, and now it was Shen Qingqiu making a small sound at the feeling of them rubbing together.
When Luo Binghe passed him the bottle he poured out a generous amount on his palm. He slicked a hand over Luo Binghe’s member at once, not waiting for it to warm, and smirked a bit when Luo Binghe hissed at the cold.
“Be good,” he said and, as obedient as ever, Luo Binghe leaned back, putting his hands behind him, so that he was only holding onto Shen Qingqiu with his firmly muscled thighs.
Shen Qingqiu worked his cock over firmly with slow strokes and gentle squeezes until Luo Binghe was panting, his legs around Shen Qingqiu tightening. Precum leaked down the shaft, the drops collecting on Shen Qingqiu’s fingers.
Eventually, Luo Binghe had enough. He surged forward and wrapped his arms around Shen Qingqiu, nipping at his neck while Shen Qingqiu arched into him, biceps pinned to his sides. He sucked a bruise into Shen Qingqiu’s skin just below his ear and then pulled back to gaze down at him, the look in his eyes a hot brand.
“Didn’t Qingqiu say he wanted this one inside him? This one won’t be able to pleasure Qingqiu like that if Qingqiu makes him come with just his hand…”
“Hurry up then,” Shen Qingqiu said, and stifled his smile into the bedspread when Luo Binghe immediately flipped him onto his belly.
Luo Binghe grabbed the oil and slicked his own fingers, tracing Shen Qingqiu’s entrance with his filed-down claws. His other hand reached around and took one of Shen Qingqiu’s nipples between his fingers, rolling and pinching it until Shen Qingqiu made a small sound of mixed pain and pleasure.
When Shen Qingqiu was well and truly pressing back into him, teased to the point of madness, only then did Luo Binghe slide a finger inside of him. He stretched him out slowly, methodically, working him open with great care. Since their disastrous first (few) time(s), Luo Binghe had been very careful of this step—always putting his full attention and dedication into making sure Shen Qingqiu was as stretched out and relaxed as possible to make sure he was ready for the massive intrusion of the Heavenly Pillar. One finger was joined by another, and another… and another.
But, well… wasn’t said pillar a bit less massive at the moment? Shen Qingqiu found himself getting impatient with the slow and careful treatment. He—he really wanted Luo Binghe inside him, okay? Was it a crime to want to be filled by his husband?
“Binghe,” he said, and pretended there wasn’t a high whine to his voice, “That’s—that’s enough, right? We don’t need as much p-preparation as usual.”
“Is Qingqiu sure?” Luo Binghe asked. He twisted his fingers as he spoke, wrenching a low groan from Shen Qingqiu.
“Yes! Yes, that’s enough. Just put it in, Binghe. This master will… this master will tell you if it hurts.”
“Alright.”
Luo Binghe slid his fingers out of Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu bit into his pillow with a little, choked-off noise. Luo Binghe rubbed his back as he rubbed more oil onto his cock. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see him, lying face down as he was, but he felt the moment that the head of the heavenly pillar pressed against his entrance. He tensed, preparing for the intrusion.
Only… then there was a hot, slick length pressing inside of him. It slid in smoothly, with barely any resistance. Shen Qingqiu found himself gasping, nearly seeing stars, both from the surprise of how easily his body took the cock and from how good it felt.
There was no pain, no massive sense of pressure that felt like it would split him in two! When Luo Binghe’s hips twitched, he didn’t have to tense or prepare himself! He just felt… good. A hot slide inside of him, lighting him up with pleasure from head to toe.
Without realising it, he found he was shifting back already, seeking more of that sensation. Luo Binghe released a sharp breath, nearly shaking against him.
“Is it okay, Qingqiu?” he asked, voice tight.
Shen Qingqiu swallowed, oddly embarrassed. Was it okay? It was better than okay.
He couldn’t admit that, though, so all he said was, “Yes. Good. Keep going.”
Luo Binghe grunted and shifted, digging his knees into the mattress. It made his cock inside of Shen Qingqiu jerk a little, and Shen Qingqiu found himself involuntarily whimpering into the pillow, a guttural sound.
“Did I hurt you?” Luo Binghe asked immediately, his hands coming up to grip Shen Qingqiu’s hips.
“ No, ” Shen Qinqiu said, and this time it came out rough and emphatic. Luo Binghe inhaled sharply, and Shen Qingqiu knew his husband was realising that pain wasn’t the problem.
“Shizun really likes it,” he said slowly. In time with his words, he began to rock his hips ever so slightly. Shen Qingqiu whined. Luo Binghe’s voice gained a teasing quality. “Oh, Shizun, this one is going to enjoy this.”
Shen Qingqiu reached behind him to slap Luo Binghe’s thigh, hard. Luo Binghe’s answering laugh rocked his chest, and accordingly rocked him into Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu felt the muscles of his stomach tensing up as pleasure ricocheted up his spine.
After that, Luo Binghe increased his pace. Each thrust, starting small and eventually growing deep and long (ha!) made his skin light up with white-hot arousal. The room was filled with the sound of their bodies moving together steadily and Shen Qingqiu’s involuntary sounds of pleasure.
The heat built and built. Shen Qingqiu found himself not only giving himself entirely over to the rhythm of Luo Binghe’s cock inside him but arching back into him each time Luo Binghe thrust his hips forward. He wanted to take as much as Luo Binghe could give him, wanted his cock to rub against that place deep inside him that made him feel like liquid light was building in his hips and belly.
“Bing he, ” he moaned. “Please, please—”
“Is Qingqiu close?” Luo Binghe asked. He used one hand to draw Shen Qingqiu’s hair away from his neck, baring his nape and pale shoulder blade. He kissed and sucked his way up the shivering skin while he slid his other hand across Shen Qingqiu’s abs, coming to knead at the crest of his pelvis and then, dangerously, trail those nimble fingers down to where his own cock was leaking into the bedclothes.
“Binghe. ”
“So good for me, Qingqiu,” Luo Binghe murmured into his skin. He licked a long stripe up Shen Qingqiu’s neck, small fangs kissing his skin. “Come for me. Come for your husband.”
Vindictively, Shen Qingqiu tensed, squeezing his thighs just as Luo Binghe thrust forward. Luo Binghe made a guttural sound of pleasure that drifted into a deep moan.
“Only if—only if Binghe joins this master,” Shen Qingqiu panted. Even drooling and teary-eyed being fucked into his sheets, he wasn’t about to let Luo Binghe get away without being driven to the brink too.
“Qingqiu gives this lord no choice,” Luo Binghe breathed. He picked up the pace, and Shen Qingqiu’s vision was overcome by starbursts. At the same time, Luo Binghe’s large, calloused palm wrapped around his cock and began to stroke him. He groaned, muscles tensing, until with one final, deep thrust and twist of his wrist, he came—come splattering the blanket and Luo Binghe’s flawless skin.
Not moments later, Luo Binghe gave a full-body shudder. His pace grew feverish, his hands still caressing Shen Qingqiu’s cock and making him shudder with over-stimulation, and then Shen Qingqiu felt wet heat burst inside of him.
In the aftermath, Shen Qingqiu hardly even noticed when Luo Binghe slid out. It only registered when he felt sticky warmth seep across his thighs and the crease of his ass, which brought a bright flush to his cheeks.
Luo Binghe’s chuckle was a warm rumble. His arms wrapped around Shen Qingqiu and lifted him, carefully manoeuvring them both out of the bed, naked and wet with each other’s sweat and cum, both still a little breathless from their coupling.
“Did this Binghe please his husband?” Luo Binghe asked, and it was almost entirely flirtatious rather than self-conscious. Shen Qingqiu batted at him weakly, turning his face away.
“Binghe always pleases this one,” he grumbled.
Luo Binghe carried him to the bath, setting him down gently only long enough to fill and heat the tub with talismans and then to add the oils and salts that eased the muscles and helped with soreness. Shen Qingqiu appreciated the ritual of it, the care… and the chance to stare at Binghe, unclothed, as he fiddled with things and generally paraded around appealingly. This time, though, he thought that he didn’t really need to be carried or pampered so thoroughly. For once, he felt like he could walk easily if he tried. Not that his sticky husband would let him. As Luo Binghe swept him up and then lowered him into the steaming, aromatic bath, he sighed with contentment, feeling only the sort of soreness that might come with a vigorous workout.
He caught Luo Binghe’s hand as his husband tried to walk away, tugging insistently.
“Won’t Binghe join this master for his bath?”
With a wide smile, Luo Binghe complied.
When Shen Qingqiu woke in the morning, he instinctively held himself still. He kept his eyes closed, feeling the morning sun on his face and training his hearing for his husband. Luo Binghe was almost always up when he woke, and today was no exception; there was clinking and rustling already coming from the next room.
Slowly, carefully, Shen Qingqiu pushed himself up, only to blink down at himself in confusion.
There was no pain.
He shifted his hips, expecting a flare of discomfort, but he didn’t even feel sore at all anymore. His muscles were pleasantly loose, but that was it.
Luo Binghe appeared a moment later, holding a tray with several covered dishes. He blinked when he saw Shen Qingqiu already sitting up. Shen Qingqiu smiled at him—at his thoughtfulness, his pretty face, and his delicious-smelling food. After an unsure moment, Luo Binghe returned his smile.
“Shizun looks well this morning,” Luo Binghe said, setting the tray down beside him on the bed.
“I feel good,” Shen Qingqiu said. Feeling a little bold, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Luo Binghe’s cheek.
They went about their mornings. Luo Binghe was used to Shen Qingqiu needing rest after their nights together. Ordinarily, Shen Qingqiu insisted that he complete his duties instead of staying in bed with him, so Luo Binghe went off to do work on his own.
Usually, Shen Qingqiu appreciated this time to read and recover. But he felt good—there was no need to rest, so he found himself getting up and ready for the day and soon joined Luo Binghe in the main room.
He tried to focus on his own work, grading reports from a recent night hunt. Except Luo Binghe was right there, his broad shoulders upright, his grip on his brush perfectly poised, his brow ever so slightly furrowed under the brilliant crimson huadian on his forehead.
Shen Qingqiu rose for tea and a snack, and when he sat again, he did so beside Luo Binghe. He pressed lightly to his side, and Luo Binghe looked over at him with wide, bright eyes.
“Shizun?”
“What is Binghe working on?”
Luo Binghe began to chat to him about this and that: supply invoices and reports from his demonic underlings and the like. Shen Qingqiu half listened to him and half played with Luo Binghe’s sleeves, running the embroidery between his fingers. As Luo Binghe went on he decided that this contact was not enough and wrapped his arms around Luo Binghe’s waist, sliding his hands under his robes so he could access Luo Binghe’s burning warmth directly.
“Shizun…?” Luo Binghe asked, amused.
Shen Qingqiu hummed. Luo Binghe turned to him, a smile on his lips that he pressed to Shen Qingqiu’s own, even as Shen Qingqiu blushed and turned away.
“My husband is teasing me,” Luo Binghe accused. His eyes sparkled. “Could it be… Is Shizun interested already…?”
Shen Qingqiu’s slight blush turned bright red. “Ridiculous!”
Luo Binghe nodded obediently, but Shen Qingqiu only averted his eyes. “It’s only… If Binghe wanted to… this master… this master wouldn’t refuse… ”
Luo Binghe was practically already pouncing on him before he was finished speaking, so eager he nearly tore Shen Qingqiu’s belt. They passed the early afternoon very pleasantly, even if not much work got done… and some ink was spilt on the writing desk.
Later, when the papers were replaced and some actual matters of the peak and the demonic realm attended to, Shen Qingqiu sent Shang Qinghua a messenger talisman, checking in on the investigation into the demonic sorceress who cursed Luo Binghe. The message he received back replied:
We are on it, bro! My king has traced her to some caves to the North of the battle. The only problem is, the caves are full of deadly Vulture Wasps, and it is taking a while to get in there without our people being driven out, covered in honey and/or having their bones eaten. Do you have any more info on what she did? Want me to look into antidotes for something? Have you tried papapa? That is the fix nine times out of ten. If fucking doesn’t fix whatever the problem is, let me know!
Shen Qingqiu sighed, rubbing his forehead. What a mess. Poor Binghe, he must have been feeling so stressed about this whole thing. Shen Qingqiu just hoped he had been able to comfort his husband and show him that Shen Qingqiu would truly love him in any body!
He wrote Shang Qinghua back, providing some ideas of how to get past the wasps.
Shen Qingqiu knew he should go to the library—follow up on the leads from Shang Qinghua. But… Well, he had one of the okay-est minds in the Jianghu on the job! Surely it was more important for him to return his attention to his husband.
When he wandered into the kitchen to check on Luo Binghe, he found himself quickly distracted.
Luo Binghe was at the table with his sleeves tied back by a long, jade-green ribbon. His hair was twisted off his neck with one of Shen Qingqiu’s wooden hairpins. There was a woven steamer next to him, already filled with a half-dozen dumplings folded into the shapes of small flowers. He was kneading something else, the muscles in his bare arms flexing each time he pressed into the soft, white dough. There was a streak of rice flour on his cheek.
Shen Qingqiu found himself abruptly, uncomfortably jealous of that dough. He didn’t want Luo Binghe’s hands pressing at and shaping their dinner. He wanted them on him.
Shen Qingqiu approached his husband with slow, small steps. The heat he was feeling low in his stomach was not unfamiliar, but this was perhaps the strongest he had ever felt it so randomly; like the sensation was truly a deep need , one he was desperate to satiate.
Was this how Luo Binghe felt all the time? No wonder he always seemed so insatiable.
“Binghe,” he said, voice low.
Luo Binghe didn’t look up, but he did smile down at the dough as he turned it and pressed another fold into it.
“Shizun, dinner will be ready shortly,” he said. “I’m preparing—”
Shen Qingqiu reached him. He placed his hands on Luo Binghe’s hips and stared determinately at the wide plane of his back.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said decisively.
Luo Binghe jerked, turning around. His eyes were wide and confused, looking up at Shen Qingqiu through his lashes despite being the taller of the two, his brows creasing and lips falling into a pout.
“What? Shizun, isn’t this good? Do you want something different…?”
Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat. He could feel himself becoming very red, and he forced himself to push through it despite the way this was going to slice a dagger straight through his thin face.
Keeping his own gaze lowered, he carefully dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor.
“Yes,” he said, pausing to push through the embarrassment. “This master would like to have something else for his meal.
Luo Binghe made a sound like he had been struck. He slapped a hand over his mouth, smearing more flour across his cheek, his face flushing pink all over.
Ah, this sheep! Looking like he’d been shot, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t even have his cock in his mouth yet! Honestly.
Shen Qingqiu huffed, reaching up to tug at Luo Binghe’s belt.
“Well? Is Binghe going to keep this husband waiting for his meal?”
“N-no Shizun! I mean, no Qingqiu!”
Luo Binghe made quick work of his belt, pulling aside his layers of robes and allowing Shen Qingqiu to tug down his pants. Shen Qingqiu felt a thrill at the sight of Luo Binghe like that—still mostly dressed, with just his cock out, only a sliver of hip and thigh and that soft trail of hair up his belly visible under the black robes.
The truth was… Shen Qingqiu had, perhaps, always wanted to try this. Well, to try this successfully— the one time they had attempted it, Shen Qingqiu’s jaw had popped just trying to get the damn thing in his mouth, let alone do anything pleasurable with it. Luo Binghe had sucked him off many times, and it was always incredible. He’d been itching to return the favour— without risking permanently dislocating his jaw.
Now that the heavenly pillar was a little more mortal… well…
Shen Qingqiu didn’t give Luo Binghe a chance to respond further, wise to his husband’s tricks of seduction that could have Shen Qingqiu the one naked on the kitchen floor in less than an incense stick flat. He leaned forward and took Luo Binghe’s rapidly hardening member in his mouth.
At first, he only wrapped his lips around the head, getting used to the feeling. He kissed and licked at the tip, focusing all of his attention on mapping it with his mouth. Then he took a little bit more, sucking gently and swallowing when a deep, musky taste lit up over his tongue.
His attention was pulled upwards by the soft whine Luo Binghe let out. Shen Qingqiu looked up, finding Luo Binghe leaning back against the counter, one hand holding him up and the other still clamped over his mouth. His head was thrown back, his black curls cascading over his shoulders and delicately across one cheek.
Ha! Take that, protagonist! How does it feel to be the one helplessly ravished for once?
Bolstered by the sight of his husband so obviously enjoying himself, Shen Qingqiu set back upon Luo Binghe’s cock with gusto. He took more into his mouth, relishing in the feeling of being able to properly lap and suck at it. He swallowed down as much as he could take before it bumped against the back of his throat and then pulled back. Luo Binghe made a gutted sound, and Shen Qingqiu tasted sweet salt. He let Luo Binghe’s cock slide back into his mouth, finding it watering at the taste. He swallowed hard to keep from drooling, and Luo Binghe shuddered all over, full-body.
Oh?
Shen Qingqiu leaned in, swallowing again, and then sliding his tongue and soft palette against Luo Binghe’s length as he rocked forward and back. His jaw ached, and it rubbed against his throat, but the slight pain felt good . Incredible, even. He looked up to see Luo Binghe squeeze his eyes shut, his face flushed brightly with pleasure. The arm holding him up was trembling. Shen Qingqiu wondered if he kept going, would Luo Binghe’s strength fail entirely?
There was only one way to find out.
He took more, letting saliva slick Luo Binghe’s cock. Maybe, if he did this again, Luo Binghe wouldn’t even need oil to enter him—he could just do it after fucking Shen Qingqiu’s wet mouth. The thought made him groan with desire, and Luo Binghe made an answering whining sound, his cock jumping against Shen Qingqiu’s tongue.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe said, his voice gone high and tight. “Shizun, Qingqiu, please—you should—you should pull off. I’m going to—I’m gonna—”
Shen Qingqiu hummed. It was cute of Binghe to ask, but no way in hell would he stop now. He pulled back only enough to carefully lick the leaking tip of Luo Binghe’s cock, then let it slide back into his mouth. He licked and sucked, and Luo Binghe shuddered harder, and then his tongue was coated with salty spend and Luo Binghe was crying out. He swallowed that down too, just to feel the way Luo Binghe jerked, the choked-out noise he tried and failed to muffle.
When Shen Qingqiu pulled off his cock, there were tears on Luo Binghe’s face. Shen Qingqiu’s own eyes were watering a bit, his mouth and throat feeling a little raw, his chin wet with spit. He smiled up at Luo Binghe and licked his lips.
“Delicious as always, Binghe,” he said, and Luo Binghe looked like he might come again just from hearing it.
“Shizun… this husband has been thinking.”
They were lying in bed together that night, both thoroughly fucked-out exhausted enough that they only lay bonelessly in each other’s arms. Shen Qingqiu was using Luo Binghe’s shoulder as a pillow. Luo Binghe’s arm wrapped around his back, and Shen Qingqiu’s leg was slung over his knee. Ah, how the real deal beat a body pillow any day…
“Yes?” Shen Qingqiu prompted, realising he had drifted into sleepy, blissed-out haziness when his husband had spoken.
“What if we didn’t find that sorceress?”
Shen Qingqiu must have still been half-asleep. “What? What does Binghe mean?”
“It’s only… what if this one simply… didn’t try to reverse the, ah, curse that she laid upon this one?”
Shen Qingqiu blinked, then pushed himself up to stare down at Luo Binghe, eyes wide.
“Binghe! What are you saying? Of course, we need to find her and break the curse! She hurt you!”
Luo Binghe nodded, then shook his head. He had a contemplative line on his forehead, right below his demonic huadian, expression set in unusual seriousness.
“That was true, at first. But, Shizun, this one is no longer feeling very hurt. Perhaps we should find her, just so she doesn’t do it to anyone else. And also because of the enchanted armies she keeps raising. But regarding this one’s circumstances…”
He shifted so he could take both of Shen Qingqiu’s wrists in his hands, giving a light squeeze and looking up at him with large, earnest eyes.
“This husband can’t help but notice that things are a bit… easier. Since this one has been cursed. When we lie together, Shizun seems to enjoy himself so much more.”
Shen Qingqiue spluttered. “That—that’s not true! This master always enjoys being with Binghe. I thought Binghe was worried this master wouldn’t enjoy being with him this—this way? So I just want Binghe to know I love him no matter what!”
Luo Binghe nodded slowly, but his sombre expression didn’t change.
“That’s true. This one knows that’s true. Shizun has proven it a hundred times over. But this one wants Shizun to be truly comfortable, to find our activities together as pleasurable as they can be, and not simply bearable. Isn’t it better, like this?”
“But it’s—it’s your manhood! Luo Binghe is a demonic emperor, the strongest man in the realms, and—and—it’s supposed to be a good thing! Being well-endowed, right?!”
“Maybe to some. But it isn’t the best for Shizun, right? Shizun is the only person in all of the realms that this one ever plans to have sex with.” Luo Binghe brazenly said, and Shen Qingqiu went red and tried futilely to hide his face at that statement. “My size doesn’t matter to me, except in how it lets me please Shizun. So who cares? Whatever is most comfortable for Shizun is how this one wants his body to be.”
Shen Qingqiu thought about this. He continued to think very hard, not moving or protesting when Luo Binghe tugged him back down to the bed and wrapped his arms around him, peppering small kisses across his brow.
“I suppose…” he said eventually, recalling a day of pleasant, easy sex. The taste of his husband’s cock, the restful, painless morning. “I suppose if Binghe really doesn’t mind. But… isn’t this master forcing Binghe to feel… diminished?”
“Never,” Luo Binghe said. “This one only ever feels like he is made better and better by Shizun. Besides, if Shizun is really concerned, what if we capture the sorceress and get the secret for the cure, and then we can decide if and when we use it or not?”
“Alright,” Shen Qingqiu agreed, sinking fully into Luo Binghe’s embrace. “That sounds reasonable.”
Luo Binghe squeezed him tightly, smiling into his hair. Shen Qingqiu could feel it even in the dark.
“And if Shizun really insists on this one returning to his previous size, this one could always adopt the other role from now on instead… ah, ow, Shizun! This one is sorry!”
Shen Qingqiu huffed, lowering his hand from gently smacking his ridiculous husband’s (ridiculously plush) pec. He buried his face in Luo Binghe’s mane of curls.
“Fine, fine, keep the smaller dick! This master will see if Binghe what Binghe has to say when this master sucks him off on his throne — ”
“Shizun!!”