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your eyes, hypnotic

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When Luo Binghe comes back the first thing Shen Qingqiu hears is a bell. It’s an incredibly crystal clear sound, pure in its ring, as if it’s calling Shen Qingqiu home. He turns towards the door, to trace the source of it, the book in his hands already half forgotten, when Luo Binghe sets foot inside Shen Qingqiu’s room.

“Shizun, I’m back!” He’s smiling and it’s an over-excited kind of smile that makes Shen Qingqiu instinctively reciprocate it.

“Welcome back.” He says, pressing a leaf between the book pages before closing it up and gently laying it on the table. “How was your trip?”

Luo Binghe strides towards him in few steps and Shen Qingqiu is left in his tall shadow, Binghe hovering above him. He grabs Shen Qingqiu’s face in his hands, so big they envelop him, and kisses him right on the mouth, teeth and everything else. Shen Qingqiu lets him do as he wishes and when Binghe detaches himself, eyes bright and starry, Shen Qingqiu hits him with his fan, right in the middle of the forehead.

“Are you so excited you forgot to even answer my question?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is cold but his eyes are warm, and gentle and Luo Binghe’s smile betrays the fact that he knows of his master’s nurturing nature.

“I missed Shizun too much.” Luo Binghe says and sweeps Shen Qingqiu in his arms, effectively almost crushing a rib or two in the process. It is not like he needed those anyway.

Shen Qingqiu takes the time to softly pat Luo Binghe’s back in a quiet reassurance that he missed him too. He fits his cheek at the crook of Binghe’s neck and breathes in - the smell is comforting and warm.

That’s when he hears the bell, again. It’s closer this time.

“Binghe.” He murmurs. “What’s that?”

“Oh, that.” Binghe says and he lets go of Shen Qingqiu in favor of pulling out something from inbetween the folds of his sleeve. He grabs it by the thread and lets the bell itself sway, producing a beautiful melody. “A gift.”

It’s silver and fragile-looking, intricate designs carved out along its outer side. Shen Qingqiu brings a finger to touch it but stops himself shy off a few centimeters.

“It’s yours.” Binghe says and smiles. “It is so pretty, it reminded me of Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu takes it in his hands and says, “Thank you.” before storing it away carefully.

“I also brought you some sweets.” Binghe smiles and leans in to kiss Shen Qingqiu again.

This time it’s Shen Qingqiu that shortens the distance between them, softly folding his mouth over Binghe’s. When he runs his tongue against Binghe’s lower lip he cannot help but marvel at how smooth and soft it is. When Binghe tries to pry Shen Qingqui’s mouth open, Shen Qingqiu retracts and opens up his fan, a barrier between him and Luo Binghe. Binghe sits down across him at the table, robes fluttering behind him.

Shizun .” Binghe prolongs the syllable, high-pitched and needy, and Shen Qingqiu is suddenly filled with mischief. He hides his smile behind the gentle flutter of his fan. “Shizun, if you tease me like this, what do you expect this disciple to do?”

He looks so miserable, with his lower lip gently jutted out, his smooth face, terribly pitiable and beautiful. Shen Qingqiu wants to spoil him rotten.

He disregards Luo Binghe’s question and asks, “And the sweets?”

Binghe looks at him again with his big and bright eyes but, after realizing Shen Qingqiu won’t relent, produces a small lacquered wooden box. It is sleek and smooth and Shen Qingqiu’s mouth is already watering.

“This looks expensive, Binghe.”

Indeed, Shen Qingqiu is a man of indulgence and when Luo Binghe unclasps the lock and lifts the wooden lid, Shen Qingqiu’s hands itch to stab a pick in one of the soft-looking sweets. Inside, nestled are a dozen osmanthus jelly cubes, perfectly cut out, translucent and golden-hued, shiny like jewels.

“It is alright, Shizun.” Binghe smiles, in that unassuming way that make the corners of his eyes crinkle up. “I did not pay for them. They were a gift.”

Binghe places the box on the table, then carefully picks up one, held between his thumb and forefinger. When he brings it to Shen Qingqiu’s mouth, offering, and says, “Try it, Shizun.” Shen Qingqiu can only sigh and oblige. He parts his lips and forgets any word of protest he was about to say thereafter. The taste is nothing he had ever tried before - a subtle sweetness, not too overpowering, fragrant and light, and he almost closes his eyes as it melts on his tongue.

Luo Binghe is smiling knowingly, sharp cat-like eyes observing and scrutinizing every single flutter of Shen Qingqiu’s mannerisms.

“Is it to your liking, Shizun?” He prompts, not expecting an answer at all, instead delving into the food himself and finding it, indeed, satisfactory.

“Binghe, who gave you this?” Shen Qingqiu asks and gingerly picks up another, tongue darting out to moisten his lips before he opens his mouth and eats the whole thing.

Luo Binghe looks at him in a daze, eyes transfixed.

He answers, finally, voice trailing off distractedly. “A girl gave it to me when I was in town.”

Shen Qingqiu almost weeps. Binghe, the poor sister wanted you to eat this, not gift it to your dear Shizun! Still, he cannot complain, the gluttony of his winning over any pity he might have had for the poor girl. He breathes in and even the air smells sweet. He swallows thickly.

His looks at Luo Binghe from the corner of his eye, as if to not get caught looking. In Shen Qingqiu’s memory, there are a million versions of Luo Binghe and yet, not one is more beautiful than the other. Shen Qingqiu looks at him for what feels like a long time - his pale, smooth face, his straight nose and his full lips. He is as if carved from stone. His eyes are the most beautiful thing about him, something enchanting that he himself does not realize.

Objectively, he knows Luo Binghe’s eyes had always been beautiful - yet, looking at them now, curious, brows furrowed, he cannot detach his gaze.

Suddenly, he feels boneless and he is glad for the ground beneath him, lest his legs give way. There is something hot and simmering, right underneath his skin. His face is burning.

He feels hot and cold waves bathing his skin, something coiling in his belly dangerously.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu murmurs and he cannot tell why his heart is hammering inside his chest. He falls forward, spine curving, and winds his arms around Luo Binghe’s neck. Luo Binghe catches him, hands falling perfectly practiced at his waist. “Binghe, this master feels quite not alright.”

His breath is coming out in short puffs, eyes hazy and he’s trembling, lightheaded. What is more, Luo Binghe smells so good . He breathes in deeply, nose buried where his neck meets his shoulder, and the smell is heady, warm and musky. Shen Qingqiu feels uncomfortable and he squirms, rubbing his thighs together. There’s something in the back of his mind, insistently prodding him to think , to remember. He disregards it, teeth flashing, before he bites at the junction of Luo Binghe’s shoulder. Luo Binghe gasps, hands clenching at Shen Qingqiu’s sides, thumbs brushing underside his ribs. Shen Qingqiu traces his tongue over the teeth mark and he smiles at the tremor that passes through Luo Binghe’s whole frame. Their chests are pressed together and Shen Qingqiu cannot tell if the thundering is his or Binghe’s heart.

“Shizun.” Binghe says and Shen Qingqiu feels heat pool in his belly when he hears how low Luo Binghe’s voice has gotten. “What’s wrong?”

Something, finally, clicks inside of Shen Qingqiu’s mind.

“It seems this sister quite liked you if she drugged the food she gave you.”

There’s only a beat of silence that Luo Binghe takes to consider this before he answers.

“But, then, Shizun, why is it only you?” Luo Binghe asks, though his teeth are flashing dangerously, as if saying ‘it doesn’t matter why’.

Shen Qingqiu wants to tell him, You stupid demonic disciple, how can such low-level aphrodisiac affect you!

The words die in his throat. He looks Luo Binghe in the eyes - his pupils are blown wide, dilated, and they’re dark and beautiful, like gems. His brows are furrowed and he’s worrying his lip between his teeth. Shen Qingqiu cannot bear to wait. He scrambles up to Luo Binghe on his knees, palms on his shoulders for support before he kisses him. His mouth is pliant and obedient, opening under Shen Qinqiu’s own lips and Shen Qingqiu licks into the heat. His tongue scapes Luo Binghe’s sharp canines and he shudders, before he positions himself over Luo Binghe’s lap. He feels aroused, his whole body responsive and hyperaware of every place they’re touching. Luo Binghe growls, the sound reverberating inside of Shen Qingqiu’s own chest, and bucks up his hips. He does not do it on purpose, Shen Qingqiu knows, but when Luo Binghe’s dick brushes against his own, the hot-white pleasure almost floors him.

“Bing-, Binghe.” He says and tries to grind down on Luo Binghe’s lap, waist twisting as Luo Binghe’s hands bruise his hips from the strain of holding himself back. “Binghe, please-

He’s fruitlessly rutting against Luo Binghe like an animal, the layers of their robes separating skin on skin, feeling Luo Binghe’s chest heave underneath his palms. It is entirely not enough.

Luo Binghe’s hand snakes upwards, underneath Shen Qingqiu’s robes, and he rolls one of his nipples inbetween his fingers, and it almost make Shen Qingqiu cry. “B-, Binghe, no.”

Even as he says this, he’s still grinding down on Binghe’s thigh, constantly nudging Binghe’s own erection. Luo Binghe somehow gets the memo - he picks him up and Shen Qingqiu wraps his legs around Binghe’s waist, snugly crossing them at the ankles. When they inevitably topple over the bed, Shen Qingqiu’s mind is already almost lost - his thoughts are hazed with lust, eyes dark and frantic, his dick uncomfortably restricted, and his body is positively burning.

As Luo Binghe hovers over him, Shen Qingqiu cannot help but say, almost begging, “Wait. I’ll do it.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes are wide and confused, but he doesn’t say anything, letting Shen Qingqiu do whatever he wants to him. There’s a thought that disappears as soon as it had appeared - how Binghe trusts him with his body and soul, wholly, completely.

His thighs are shaking as he rolls Binghe over on his back, climbing over him. He kisses him slowly and Binghe’s growing impatient, hands pulling at the folds of Shen Qingqiu’s robes, at his own robes as well. Shen Qingqiu grabs him by the wrists as he bites Luo Binghe’s lower lip - the moan this elicits from Binghe is almost enough for him to come right then and there.

Instead, he kisses Binghe’s neck next, feeling his pulse point, sinking lower, until he reaches Binghe’s navel. He opens the hem of his robes and, in one swift motion, exposes Luo Binghe’s dick. It is as monstrous as ever, though, Shen Qingqiu is unable to hide the excited shiver that passes through him at the sight of it - it’s prettily curved, flushed pink and leaking so much precome it’s slick all the way down.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrow slightly, before he licks a wet stripe from the base upwards.

“Sh-shizun, wait, wait, stop-, I-” Luo Binghe begins stuttering, though his hips betray him, jumping at the stimulation. Shen Qingqiu is quite dissatisfied but he obliges and looks up at Luo Binghe, still situated between his legs. “Shizun, this feels too good . And you’ve never done this for me, I- ah .”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t let him finish that thought. It is true that he has never done this before but the thought of it makes him frantic with need now - he wants to feel the heavy weight of Luo Binghe on his tongue. He wants to taste him. He had before thought it far too embarrassing but now, with Luo Binghe melting underneath his palms, his stomach feels hot with desire and his eyes are hungrily devouring every of the many inches of Luo Binghe. He envelops the head of Binghe’s cock and his eyelids flutter closed. As he begins to rhythmically bob up and down, mouth unable to accomodate to the entire girth, he wraps his hand at the base and works them together. He is more than satisfied when he hears Luo Binghe’s breath hitch, the dick in his mouth twitching. Shen Qingqiu’s spine curves, his head hanging low between Binghe’s thighs, his ass is perched up, supporting his weight on his knees. His free hand takes hold of his own neglected dick, hanging heavy between his legs.

Then, Luo Binghe grabs a fistful of hair and thrusts up.

Shen Qingqiu immediately chokes up, throat constricting, as his nostrils flare up.

Luo Binghe immediately gets up, grabbing Shen Qingqiu by the shoulders, worry written all over his face, “Shizun, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just- I couldn’t stop myself and it really felt so, so good-

“Just-” Shen Qingqiu’s voice is rough and he will never admit to it but he liked that as well. He feels the space between his legs hot and wet and his eyes are brimming with tears, heavy as they overflow and finally slide down his cheeks, and he’s never felt so good before.

“Again.” He rasps out and wraps his lips around Binghe’s cock once more. He tries to swallow around it, feeling his tongue press up against the veins underside, then pops it off his mouth, tongue fitting over the slit. His hand is between his own legs and he’s rutting against it, without giving himself the pleasure of release. When he tries to deepthroat Luo Binghe he finds it is entirely impossible to fit it all, but he does so to the best of his abilities. Luo Binghe thrusts up again, a bit less violently, though Shen Qingqiu still feels his throat closing up around the length. There’s saliva dripping down his chin, gathering at the corners of his mouth. He feels dirty, filthy and the thought of what he must look like makes his head spin.

“Shizun, I-” Luo Binghe hiccups and his eyes are red and then, he says nothing more.

Shen Qingqiu’s free hand is resting on Luo Binghe’s stomach and he feels the muscles underneath constrict when Binghe comes down his throat with a prolonged moan. His body shakes with it, hand twisting the hair at Shen Qingqiu’s nape. Shen Qingqiu cannot swallow everything and the sticky release drips out of his mouth as he sucks playfully one last time before he pulls off Binghe’s dick.

Binghe’s beautiful eyes are dark as he sits up and licks at Shen Qingqiu’s cheek, cleaning him off. Normally, Shen Qingqiu would have definitely reprimanded him, considering this gross, but now he presses up the entirety of his torso to Luo Binghe’s, legs on either side of Binghe’s thighs, still completely unsatisfied, feeling the heat of Luo Binghe’s body against his own. Binghe’s hair is a mess from where he had tossed and turned in pleasure, his collarbones glistening with sweat. He shrugs off his robe, completely naked.

“Come on, Binghe, I need you inside of me.” Shen Qingqiu whispers and his tone is sultry, slow and careful, and if he’s doing it on purpose, he’s the only one that has to know.

Shen Qingqiu undresses slowly. Binghe’s eyes follow him, hungry and possessive and Shen Qingqiu vaguely wonders if this is how all of Luo Binghe’s wives felt when he bedded them - he takes pride in being the only one, now.

When he frees his own dick from the confines of his robes he almost feels embarrassment at how aroused he is and how much it shows - he’s flushed red, leaking precome, and he’s almost crying with the need to be fucked.

Luo Binghe produces a vial of clear liquid from the bedside - that, too, had come with experience. Luo Binghe had tried to take him unprepared a few times and Shen Qingqiu cannot tell how he survived.

“N-no.” Shen Qingqiu says and snatches the bottle. “Just watch.”

“Shizun.” He croaks but there’s nothing else to be said - he sees the desire in the way Luo Binghe bites his lip, eyes half-lidded.

Binghe’s beautiful eyes flash red with lust. It is something that Shen Qingqiu had seen very few times before, when the rusty stench of blood had been thick on Luo Binghe’s skin. It should make him scared now, he thinks, but instead he feels the electricity in his spine, the look on Luo Binghe’s face making Shen Qingqiu’s dick throb. His body is honest, even when he himself is not.

Shen Qingqiu raises himself up on his knees, still on both sides of Luo Binghe, and Binghe rests his warm, big hands on Shen Qingqiu’s thighs. Binghe’s thumbs almost brush at the juncture where Shen Qingqiu’s pelvis meets his legs but he doesn’t let his hands stray. They simply rest there, maddeningly close.

Shen Qingqiu pours the liquid generously on his fingers and gasps when the first one breaches him. The second follows and he’s quickly reduced to a wanton mess, the wet sounds of working himself open, his body subconsciously fucking itself onto Shen Qingqiu’s own hand. His body shudders when he notices Luo Binghe is hard again. He’s sure he says many things - inbetween moans, the half-cut off syllables of Binghe’s name every time his nails scrape his prostate, rocking his hips frantically but not letting himself come. He’s sure he says, please, please, please, I need you , because Binghe kisses him then.

He pulls out his fingers, his entrance helplessly fluttering, empty.

If Shen Qingqiu’s mind wasn’t a scrambled-up mess he might have regarded his current predisposition with curiosity and, quite possibly, with aversion - own behavior, so embarrassing that if he were in his right mind he would have slapped himself out of it. Instead, he only parts his trembling thighs, begging for Luo Binghe to touch him.

When Luo Binghe aligns himself with Shen Qingqiu’s entrance and pushes in, slowly, Shen Qingqiu feels hot all over - his body is taking Luo Binghe’s dick as easily as anything, providing no resistance. He can wait no longer. With one smooth movement, he sinks on Luo Binghe’s cock, bouncing in his lap. He rests his hands on his own stomach, feeling so entirely full , so incredibly stretched out. He rocks his hips, sounding it out, and the cock pressing snugly against his insides is divine - he supposes this could be an ironic metaphor. His toes curl, arms wrapping around Binghe’s neck as his breath comes out in short pants. His dick is trapped between them both, smearing liquid, and he licks at Binghe’s mouth.

Binghe responds by snapping his hips upwards, making Shen Qingqiu cry out, tears gathering at his lashes, when Luo Binghe aims at his prostate. He’s impatient and rough, a half-growl, half-moan ripping from inside his chest, and Shen Qingqiu arches his back, allowing Binghe to latch onto one of his nipples. Under his mouth, it becomes red and over-sensitive. There’s the obscene sound of skin on skin every time Luo Binghe’s hands, gripping his waist, pull him down to slam back on his cock. Luo Binghe is lost in pleasure, his hips working Shen Qingqiu open, fucking into him. Shen Qingqiu would never admit there’s nobody else that could make him feel that way.

It is so hot , he thinks, though he might have said it - he isn’t sure. The pleasure is so overwhelming, making his stomach coil, and it’s like nothing he has felt before.

“Shizun, you’re so warm, your body is so, so-” Binghe rubs his cheek against Shen Qinqiu’s chest, breathing in. “ -so good. You’re all mine .”

Fire licks at Shen Qingqiu’s spine at these words and he clenches down on Luo Binghe - he wants to be good.

Luo Binghe bares his teeth in a carnal half-smile and rasps out, “Don’t.”

But he does - he twists his hips, soft moans falling from his lips and he grabs his own neglected cock as his thighs tremble from the exertion. He’s so close, lost in the pleasure, so lost he does not see Binghe’s beautiful eyes transfixed to his face - like this, Shen Qingqiu looks like a god. He looks wretched - his whole body flushed red and glistening with sweat, his eyes hazy with lust, his hair all out of place, taking Luo Binghe’s cock so prettily, bouncing on his lap. There is only the sick pleasure of knowing Luo Binghe had sullied him forever.

Binghe rocks into Shen Qingqiu, his body so terribly vulnerable and oversensitive, pushing Shen Qingqiu’s hand out of the way and grabbing his cock himself. He gives it a few practiced strokes, teeth resting over Shen Qingqiu’s collarbone as he breathes harshly, never really biting.

When Shen Qingqiu comes, the pleasure is blinding - his movements stutter, thighs almost giving out, stomach tightening and he instinctively tries to clench his thighs together. He finds himself unable to do so, instead spilling all over Binghe’s hand and chest. The moan that rips from his throat is gruttal, something he almost doesn’t believe is in his own voice.

Luo Binghe follows closely after, muscled thighs working underneath Shen Qingqiu, teeth finally sinking into Shen Qingqiu’s skin, a mark to last.

It is in the moment when Luo Binghe is panting heavily underneath him in the afterglow of his orgasm, spread out, that Shen Qingqiu’s hands lay on Luo Binghe’s toned chest, feeling his escalated heartbeat. He leans in, softly placing his lips on Luo Binghe’s forehead, as if breathing life into him, and Binghe’s eyes flutter closed at the warmth of the feeling. He wraps Shen Qingqiu in his arms, holding him as close as possible. They are still sticky and exhausted but this moment is comforting.

“Mm.” When Shen Qingqiu’s mind clears out, he is far too spent to feel any embarrassment, instead turning to Luo Binghe, softly and quietly muttering, “All yours.”