Shen Yuan is beginning to really hate Hua Hua Palace.
For one, the ceilings are boring. He feels he can make this statement since Binghe spends a lot of time making sure he gets a good view of it. Shen Yuan also learns the exact thread count of the silken sheets and how they feel on certain parts of his body.
Then there’s the furniture that’s absolutely gaudy. There’s gold plastered on everything. Of course, not to mention that he’s been here for what? Six days? Eight days? Shen Yuan isn’t sure exactly but he does know that it’s more than one and now the whole cultivating world thinks he’s behind the Jinlan City epidemic, like some cackling evil mastermind. The accusation comes from how he’s disappeared from the ‘scene of the crime’ which is some confession of guilt instead of the truth.
The truth is that his former disciple pretty much kidnapped him to fuck him silly.
Or prepare him to be fucked silly.
He admits even he would have a hard time believing it, but shock and denial can only take Shen Yuan so far when Binghe is determined to make him come over...and over again.
Somehow Shen Yuan suspects the young man is using his current disgraced reputation against him. That he may be relishing in the current state of having his teacher...all to himself without conflict. Or at least, he’s definitely taking advantage of the chaos.
This Binghe is not his white lotus anymore.
“But Shizun, there are several influential cultivators out there calling for your head! One of them is even the Hua Hua Palace Sect Leader!”
Shen Yuan looked stoically at him. “So Binghe has decided that hiding in Hua Hua Palace itself would be the best option for these circumstances.”
Binghe nods enthusiastically. “Shizun is so smart! Here is the one place where your adversaries would never suspect and in my hands...you’ll be safe and sound.” Said hands are busy massaging Shen Yuan’s feet, thumbs digging into his delicate arch until a helpless groan rise up to the roof of Shen Yuan’s mouth. He presses his lips tighter stubbornly.
Binghe turns his dark, wide eyes towards him. “You are displeased? Are the rooms not to your liking? Do you have needs that I haven’t met?”
“Not exactly.” Shen Yuan snaps out his fan to cover his grimace.
“Shizun is upset! He is unsatisfied with this useless disciple’s efforts!” Binghe’s eyes fill up with tears.
Shen Yuan is this close from whacking him. He’s on to him. He knows that Binghe knows that if Shen Yuan stares into those sad, puppy eyes long enough that he’ll cave to any demand, he’ll melt right into Binghe’s skillful hands, he’ll soothe any imagined hurt with kind words and touch. Shen Yuan will do anything to get that look off his face.
It’s an absolute truth.
In a way, Shen Yuan must accept the consequences of his actions, he’s raised a special type of brat.
“Stop looking at me like that. Binghe knows he has already met most of this Shizun’s preferences.” He fixes his stare on the wall instead of that pitiful face that’s a lie. In revenge, Binghe digs his thumb deeper into Shen Yuan’s foot, right where it needs, right where it feels so good and it drags a reluctant moan past his lips.
“Most is not all,” Binghe notes flatly. He pets Shen Yuan’s foot, even leaning down to kiss it before reaching for the other one. “Whatever must I do to make amends?”
For a moment, Shen Yuan thinks of being a little shit back and pulling his leg out of Binghe’s reach...but the foot rubs are nice. Really lovely actually.
“You could return with me to Cang Qiong Mountain?” Shen Yuan suggests. Binghe’s fingers freeze on his ankle. “There I could explain the situation to our sect leader and begin the process of clearing my name.”
“No,” Binghe says with no remorse.
“Yue Qingyuan would believe my words. He would know I had nothing to do with Jinlan City.”
“He would make sure our presence is well hidden until faith in my reputation returns. It would give peace of mind to the rest of my disciples on Qing Jing Peak. If you are concerned about extra protection, I could ask Peak Lord Liu Qingge to–”
“I said no, Shizun.”
Shen Yuan closes his mouth. Especially when Binghe gives a low sigh. It’s a warning in itself that his patience is running out. “I do not want to continue this argument anymore. To move you is dangerous, troublesome. The blatant lack of care you have for your safety...upsets me.”
Shen Yuan’s brow furrows. Now he is clearly visibly displeased. So there! Take that, you people-pleaser protagonist!
“I grow weary of this discussion. Why must this notion of returning persist on tainting our dear conversations.” Binghe tugs on his ankle, firmly dragging Shen Yuan down across the covers.
“Binghe asked his Shizun a question, it is not the flaw of the teacher if he doesn’t like the answer.” Shen Yuan is rather proud of his poetic snark.
“How true. Shizun is quite right.” Binghe yanks on his ankle once more sharply. Therefore Shen Yuan is reintroduced to the ceiling. Again. Ha. He really should take a minute or two to draw something up there.
Binghe continues, his voice sending shivers down his spine. “Perhaps the time for talk is over.”
Shen Yuan loses his fan.
It gets trapped in the sheets somewhere when Shen Yuan drops it, trying to plant his hands under him only for them to slide on the silk. Later, he’ll bury them in Binghe’s hair, the curls wrapped around his knuckles he urges Binghe to move. Too bad such tactics only seem to make Binghe go slower.
“After all, there are far better things this disciple could do with his mouth.”
Shen Yuan loses his dignity next as Binghe rucks up his robe higher and higher. Today it’s a thick gauze-like thing. Red. Binghe likes him in red. He also likes to adorn Shen Yuan in jewelry, there are fragile gold and silver chains around his neck that clink and ring together as Binghe pulls him closer. There are long earrings that drag on the bed when Shen Yuan twists his head back and forth to whimper. No hair ornaments yet but the day is far from over.
“And Shizun has such a sweet singing voice.”
Shen Yuan will lose that voice too.
It’ll take a while. Binghe sucks kisses up his legs, takes his time to worship the back of his knees since Shen Yuan is sensitive there. His disciple will tease his thighs and press on previous bruises just so they’re darker before he throwing Shen Yuan’s legs over his broad shoulders.
How they stretch so wide is always obscene. So is the way Binghe gives filthy compliments right at that place...right there.
“I love this song, Shizun.”
His choked mewl is humiliating. It only gets worse when Binghe involves his tongue. Binghe loves to open him up slowly. He loves to lick. He loves to make Shen Yuan wet. He loves to curl his tongue when it’s as far as it can go because that’s when Shen Yuan starts to beg.
“Oh if I can choose my death may it be here, happily between your thighs.” The words vibrate at his entrance and Shen Yuan has to sob. “In the future, at least once you must spend an entire day riding my face.”
This terrible unrelenting pleasure must be Binghe’s revenge.
It must be.
Shen Yuan hates it.
He hates that Binghe ends all their arguments this way.
Because Binghe always wins.
In a few hours, Shen when wakes up from his impromptu nap, his eyes crack open in minutely. He blearily turns his head to the window, judging from the position of the sun, it's past midday.
The soft white curtains flutter around the bed in the breeze. Shen Yuan wonders if he’ll get to spend much time out of it.
There’s a garden outside.
When Binghe doesn’t keep them occupied in their rooms, they spend much of their time there. Shen Yuan soaking up the fresh air and sunlight while Binghe wards the perimeter so thoroughly not another Hua Hua cultivator dares to intrude. Not with Master Binghe. The Sect Leader’s new favorite. A title Shen Yuan should definitely ask about, especially with how private and secluded these gardens are.
There are all sorts of flowers. ‘Hua’ even means flower and the entire Sect takes a lofty sort of pride with the motif. If Shen Yuan is allowed to, if he can walk, he can stroll along the walkways holding Binghe’s arm in his. He can admire the deep red roses, the rich purples of Irises and violets and smile at the large sunflowers that are larger than his head.
He can think.
He can plan.
Because no matter how beautiful and spacious gardens are, Shen Yuan misses his quiet bamboo grove. He misses home.
Does Binghe miss it too?
Shen Yuan must find the courage to ask.
He turns away from the window and finds Binghe hovering on the other side of the bed, waiting for him to notice his presence. Once he has Shen Yuan’s attention, he shines like a star.
Those eyes sparkle and his beaming smile is too bright, too much for Shen Yuan handle. Ahhhhh.
“Oh, Shizun’s awake! He passed out when I was eating him out so I was worried.” Shen Yuan groans and covers his face with both palms. His former white lotus hurries on to prevent offense. “Not that it’s a bad thing! Shizun deserves to rest whenever he needs to. It just took this unobservant disciple a while to realize Shizun’s condition! I must have wrung out at least one more dry orgasm out of you before I noticed you had stopped making...your wonderful noises. Shizun? Shizun!”
Shizun’s not here right now.
Shizun is too busy trying to smother himself with a pillow. Please leave a message and he’ll get back to you once he no longer looks like a red boiled lobster.
Which is never.
“Shizun.” Binghe gently pulls the pillow away and smiles fondly at him. “What are you doing with the pillows? Though this one confesses to find Shizun’s actions adorable–”
Kill him, Shen Yuan prays to the universe. He can’t take much of this embarrassing praise much longer.
“–It is still time for his master to eat lunch. Come, let us carry you to the table, I made your favorites.”
That doesn’t mean much. Everything his Binghe cooks is his favorite.
He tells Binghe so just because he can.
“You honor this humble cook.” He pets Shen Yuan’s side before brushing his hair out of his eyes. The back of Binghe’s fingers lingers against his cheek.
“Binghe, surely you’re aware that your food rivals any from heaven itself.”
Binghe has the audacity to blush. “Let your disciple help Shizun to the table.” His arms go for under Shen Yuan’s knees and the small of his back.
Shen Yuan waves a hand in dismissal, “This old man can walk.”
“Oh, he can?” There’s a playful note in Binghe’s voice. “Let us see.”
Shen Yuan glares and scoots to the edge of the bed, he also finds his fan, a useful weapon against Binghe’s teasing to be sure. Defiantly, he slowly rises to his feet.
He stands. Tall and proud as any majestic being.
He lasts for eight seconds.
At least to spare his thin face, Binghe says nothing when his legs completely buckle and betray him. Just adjusts his hold, carrying Shen Yuan like a new bride to the table, while the teacher seethes behind his fan.
The young man also manages to keep the waves of pleased smugness low enough that Shen Yuan can’t find an excuse to reprimand him.
Until Binghe pushes his seat in, forcing Shen Yuan upright.
It’s the perfect sitting posture to enjoy the meal.
It’s also the perfect posture to feel something.
Shen Yuan’s body jolts like a lightning strike.
The fan in his grip cracks.
How can it not when an object rubs just right over the spot inside of him? A spot Binghe’s quite obsessed with. Shen Yuan dares not to move a muscle, just holds his breath and counts to ten.
There’s a helper inside of him.
“B-Binghe.” He snarls. The curse is pathetic on his lips, it fumbles, especially when his thighs naturally squeeze together, jostling the hard, unyielding piece of jade into teasing his prostate. He swallows roughly and calls raspily, “Binghe!”
Binghe sways into back into view. He places their food before them, the aroma so heavenly and thick. “Yes, Shizun?” He asks, his aura emitting pure innocence, pouring tea used for sore throat as if the sexual fiend had no idea what Shen Yuan was referring to!
“When, when did you put that-THAT—” Shen Yuan can’t finish the question.
Instead, he motions helplessly to his lower body, flinches when his actions make the thing move over that sensitive area again. His hand slaps over his mouth to muffle a gasp. Binghe, however, seems to be captivated by his every squirm.
“Binghe!” Shen Yuan slams the table, demanding an answer.
“Hmmmm? When? I put in one of our helpers while you were sleeping. You were so loose and wet. It was the perfect time for us to practice.”
Now see here, you kinky motherfuc—
Before Shen Yuan can release his utter rage, there’s a swoosh.
Shen Yuan’s vision is blocked by heavy robes. Binghe stands in front of him, guarding him with a loose but dangerous stance. He didn’t see how his disciple practically transported from one side of the table to the other, but Shen Yuan does watch how his fingers caress Xin Mo’s hilt.
“My Lord.” The salutation is perfectly monotone. Cold like ice.
Binghe is colder. “You’ve interrupted our midday meal.”
“It was not my intent.” A pause or two. A ruffle of fabric. “The Southern Territories are moving.”
Shen Yuan peers around Binghe. Binghe takes a step to hide him from view. Yet Shen Yuan knows of only one besides Binghe that can make portals, he remembers that figure in shades of darkest navy to palest blue, Mobei-Jun, king of the north.
“I did order you to keep me informed of any developments,” Binghe says absentmindedly. Then he twists to Shen Yuan and simpers, “you must forgive this one’s rudeness, but I must leave you to handle a certain matter. Please continue to enjoy the meal. I’ll return shortly.”
“Take your time.” Shen Yuan scoffs, picking up his tea and blowing on it lightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Binghe gives a boyish grin. “I know.” He leans down to peck Shen Yuan on the forehead. Shen Yuan allows it.
When he turns back to their new...guests, Binghe’s whole demeanor shifts into someone with power, someone dominant and firm. “We will take this outside. Now.”
“Yes, my lord,” Mobei-Jun replies. From under his cloak, there is a significant bump Binghe doesn’t miss.
His eyes narrow. “Not you. You will stay with my teacher so he has company during his meal. Do you understand?” He sharply demands.
“Y-Yes your grace, but of course!”
And out from Mobei-Jun’s cape stumbles Shang Qinghua. Shen Yuan practically snorts into his tea.
“Is that amenable, Shizun?” Binghe directs Mobei-Jun to the outer courtyard.
Binghe smiles at his generous lover then the two demons are gone.
“I must say, Cucumber-bro, you’re really rocking the whole sex slave Princess Leia look.”
It’s always surprising how Shang Qinghua’s stuttering, lackey personality melts into one that Shen Yuan wants to strangle him for.
“Shut up and get into a garbage chute, flyboy.” Shen Yuan says snidely, folding his arms in front of him. He takes the privilege of slouching, taking the pressure off of...other things. If he’s careful, he can ignore it. “Or shall I mention to your king how much you appreciate the style? Maybe he’ll think it’ll suit you too.”
“Don’t man, I’ll freeze. To death. In the North, if you’re not careful and blink for too long your eyes can freeze shut.”
“Oh, boo-hoo.” Shen Yuan props his elbow on the table and rests his chin on top. Binghe recalls his fondness for pillows, the ones under him provide ample ammunition against the other peak lord.
“Besides my king prefers the jewelry and tattoo route.” Shang Qinghua dodges a cushion before pulling out from his robe a thick collar of sapphires, each of them the size of a chicken’s egg.
The two take a second to wonder at their circumstances.
“What news do you bring me?” Shen Yuan urges. Their time is limited.
Shang Qinghua plays with his necklace. “I don’t know, man. I’m still kinda bitter that you turned my protagonist gay.”
“Get over here and I’ll give you a real reason to be bitter, you hack!”
“So mean, and after all the begging it took to arrange this meeting too. That took a lot of work, you know. If only I was shown some sort of gratitude for going out, risking my life to collect all the best gossip of the outside world has to offer...”
“Spill. Before I tell Binghe that you were rude.” Shen Yuan threatens.
It’s a good threat.
“Well, since you’ve vanished, Cang Qiong Mountain has been a screaming chicken with its head cut off.” Shang Qinghua begins with.
Shen Yuan winces. But wait there’s more!
“Everyone from Qing Jing Peak takes any slight to your honor personally and beats up anyone who slanders your good name.”
Shen pinches the bridge of his nose. With his luck, this cause is most championed by his Ming Fan and Ning Yingying, isn’t it?
“Liu Qingge encourages them if he’s in the vicinity. Otherwise he’s MIA, scouring every city and town for any trace of you. Yue Qingyuan has the most terrifying smile on and keeps sending out squads of cultivators to visit the other peaks about the cause of your disappearance and–”
“Okay. Okay, I’ve heard enough.” Shen Yuan holds up a hand to cut off the flood of information. He gets the gist. He is missed.
“Are you sure?” Shang Qinghua drips with sarcasm. “Because I haven’t gone into the demonic caricature other sects have made of you yet.”
“Yes. Now hand me some paper and ink. Over there. Let’s stop this chicken’s screaming.”
Shen Yuan writes.
He writes letters that he’s safe.
He writes that he’s in hiding and that the sky isn’t falling.
He doesn’t explain the how. Nor the who that spirited him away. But he writes platitude over platitude, that he has protection and he will find a way to prove his innocence so their sect is not disgraced. Shen Yuan encourages for Cang Qiong Mountain to be open to other sects to investigate and search so they will not be held accountable for harboring a criminal.
He pleads them to stop attacking his accusers.
Shen Yuan warns them to be wary. That there might be another contender out there behind the scenes, making their move. A shadow setting up the board.
“It’s Binghe’s father, isn’t it. Tianlang-jun.”
“Yeeeeeeeeep. Surprise. Guess his character isn’t going to stay as backup material.”
Shen Yuan states the truth. “You’re an asshole, Airplane-bro.”
“Hey, it takes one to know one and it’s a coping skill, dude. Things are going to get even crazier from here on out. Whatever happens is completely new, completely separate from the novel I wrote.”
Shen Yuan finishes his letters with an addendum to expect more from him in the future. Even if they can’t contact him back. Stay Calm.
Shang Qinghua takes the stack with barely a fuss. “So now that we’ve established my role as secret carrier pigeon. What are you going to do? I doubt you’re going to escape Binghe’s lustful clutches anytime soon.” He tucks the letters under his robe, smoothing it down with barely a bulge. It wouldn’t do if his king or his OP protagonist figured out what they’re going.
“I’m going to be the frightened damsel in distress apparently. The poor Shizun who worries about the dark figure that looms over them just out of reach. I’ve got this. At the end of the day, it isn’t Binghe who framed me. That’s going to get under his skin. If I’m reading the situation correctly and if my Binghe is OP blackened son of glory, once I point out that someone unknown has unscrupulous intentions towards me...It’ll trigger him. Binghe might stop–”
Shen Yuan’s face flushes bright pink.
“Sexytimes?” Shang Qinghua helpfully suggests.
“–whatever he’s doing and focus on obliterating the enemy.” Shen Yuan ends with a flourish.
Shang Qinghua gives him a polite round of applause. “Every protagonist does have an overprotective switch. Bravo, Cucumber-bro.”
They have their new parts to play.
And for this story to have a happy ending?
Shen Yuan is going to master his.
So here’s the thing, Shen Yuan may have had a part in bending the protagonist.
“You’re saying that I accidentally seduced Binghe with my ignorant wiles.”
It’s time for bed. Night has fallen, the candles have been blown out and the only light left is the light of the moon.
It makes Binghe’s eyes gleam.
“Yes. Shizun has corrupted me.” He adds with a bob of his head. Binghe crawls towards him, slowly boxing him in because he’s that kind of a sexy jerk. Gods, Shen Yuan should get up and jump out the window. “Back in those earlier years I was quite in an impressionable state, would you not agree?”
“Perhaps.” Shen Yuan narrows his eyes at him.
“Just imagine.” Binghe leans over him, looms until he can whisper in his ear. “A young boy, unable to protest as this gorgeous, untouchable man continues to peel layer after layer before him. Every day he must watch, and do nothing about it.”
“I recall a disciple doing something about it,” Shen Yuan says dryly. “I remember a certain disciple very determined to be of any service when it wasn’t needed.”
“It was the only way the boy could keep his sanity.” Binghe starts to kiss behind his ear. Shen Yuan hates that he can’t stop a shudder, Binghe has begun to train his body too well. “He was so young. If he could just worship this glorious god, then maybe, maybe he could hold out until he was old enough to woo him.” He sucks on his earlobe and Shen Yuan’s breath starts to stutter.
“Is that so?” Shen Yuan manages to push out. However, it sounds like he’s panting, dang it.
“Shizun should take responsibility,” Binghe says with a purr. Shen Yuan shoves at his shoulder but Binghe just sinks his weight on top of him. Heavy and oh so firm. Binghe has the body of a god and likes to remind Shen Yuan of it with every opportunity. “This poor disciple is depraved, obsessed, enthralled to the unfortunate actions of his master. Despite Shizun’s good intentions, he has raised a pervert.”
“Binghe!” Shen Yuan snaps. He starts to struggle in earnest, but Binghe’s pushes a leg between his and lovingly grinds downwards. Shen Yuan is still only in one layer. It protects nothing. A weak moan escapes him and the bastard on top of him chuckles.
“It’s true, my dear teacher. I’m this way because of you.” He sucks a path to his neck and bites. “It’s all your fault, Shizun.”
Shen Yuan squirms under Binghe’s weight, it does help that Shen Yuan knows that if Binghe presses down harder Shen Yuan will have a much harder time breathing. It’s as if Binghe is arrogantly telling him to be grateful that he has room to struggle.
“Binghe. Binghe, stop!”
Then he complains. “Must I? Shizun knows that I can make him feel good.” He lets his corded thigh tease Shen Yuan a little longer. Pressing down where Shen Yuan has started to show interest. “It’s such a shame to stop.”
“It’s-It’s still important.” Shen Yuan blusters, he drags Binghe’s face away from his neck. His sticky disciple goes slowly but surely enough he meets his gaze. “This conversation is not over.”
Binghe pouts. As if he’s fifteen again, instead of the attractive musclehead who thinks with his dick boxing him in.
“Master’s not finished? Can he be persuaded to finish another time? Perhaps when other certain...needs have been met?”
“No this master cannot.” Shen Yuan retorts. He looks around and then pats the bed. “Lay here, beside me. My disciple can cuddle his Shizun, cuddle only, while he lectures. Binghe has said his piece, now it’s time for mine.”
Binghe grumbles but somehow remains obedient and does as he asked. Good. That’s...good. Binghe has had so many unfair advantages already, it’s nice to know there’s a figment of the eager-to-please disciple he remembers.
Alright. Fine. Binghe is still eager-to-please, but less in the meek, platonic way Shen Yuan is used to, okay?
Shen Yuan clears his throat. “First, now that I’m coherent enough to say this–”
“–It’s better when Shizun is incoherent.” Binghe interrupts mulishly, “better when he’s screaming with pleasure too.”
Shen Yuan shows his annoyance by pointedly turning around, facing away from Binghe. “If Binghe does not want this Shizun to finish talking when he was willing to...try what Binghe likes later, then we shall sleep instead.”
“No, no!” Binghe’s arms around Shizun’s waist and tugs him to his chest frantically. “No more stopping. Binghe will listen, he promises!”
Shen Yuan manages not to smirk. Gotcha. He hums and pets the Binghe’s arm contently. “Then let me continue.” However he keeps petting Binghe’s forearm, tracing the blue veins that pop out. Shen Yuan takes a deep breath.
“First. This Shizun has wronged you. He may not have the right to even call you disciple anymore.” He can feel Binghe start to protest, but he cuts him off by squeezing his arm. “This Shizun, I...hurt you. I hurt my beloved, my most earnest, my best disciple with a punishment he never deserved. The Abyss.”
Binghe curls around him. Tucking Shen Yuan’s head beneath his own, he does not see the way Binghe’s eyes calculate.
“Does Shizun feel guilty? Does he wish to repay this disciple, hmm?” Binghe says silkily, his arm slowly creeping to the opening of Shen Yuan’s robe.
Shen Yuan slams his arm over it, trapping it and snarls, “Stop making this about sex. I’m trying to apologize!”
He twists his head enough to glare at his brat. “I did something unforgivable to you!” Shen Yuan betrayed his sweet disciple’s trust. He broke something inside of Binghe. He remembers it. He remembers the way Binghe’s face crumbled when Shen Yuan kissed his forehead only to push him in that ominous vent where demons spawned and ripped anything apart. He fell. It was Shen Yuan’s fault.
“I’m sorry!” His voice cracks.
His eyes grow cold, his hand moving to grip his jaw and tilt Shen Yuan’s head backwards until his neck ached.
“It was terrible.” He whispers so hollow.
“You know nothing.” Binghe snarls, his fingers digging in Shen Yuan’s chin almost painfully. “Nothing of the nightmares I fought and ate. But what hurt more, more than the fear, more than the wounds, more than the teeth that kept tearing my flesh if I dared to sleep, was your hypocrisy. That you would tell me such lies that demons should be judged like humans, that they could be both good or bad when the truth was you hated demons.”
“I didn’t lie.” There must be at least honorable demons out there. Shen Yuan knows it!
“No? Then I was an exception?” He releases Shen Yuan’s jaw it can fall back on the pillows, with one idle finger, Binghe traces his bottom lip. “Only I didn’t deserve a chance to prove my morality. How cruel of you, Shizun,” he muses.
“I’m sorry.” Shen Yuan repeats. His hand shakes when he brings it up, lightly pressing the rest of Binghe’s fingers to his lips. “Even the wisest teacher makes mistakes. This shizun would do anything to take it back.”
Binghe sneers, tangles their legs together. “Does Shizun truly want to make amends?”
“Let’s test that resolve.” Binghe withdraws his fingers from Shen Yuan’s grasp, out of his sight, there’s motion behind him and a hiss of breath. Then. “Do you know what this is?”
Binghe presents his hand. There is a single drop of red on the tip of his ring finger. “...blood,” Shen Yuan inhales sharply.
“Very good, Shizun. Demon’s blood, Heavenly Demon’s blood to be precise, my teacher is so knowledgeable. Tell me, do you know of its effects?”
“Yes.” Shen Yuan says dully. It could kill him. It could make each vein of his body pop like a balloon. It could rot him from the inside out on Binghe’s command.
“Drink it. If you’re really sorry, if you really regret, prove to me that you’ll give me a chance. That you’ll believe when I say I won’t cause you harm. That you’ll trust me...unlike how Shizun did at the edge of the Abyss.”
Shen Yuan stares at the blood. Binghe could use it to find him anywhere.
“But if Shizun is too fearful of this Heavenly Demon, of his power, Binghe understands. He will not force Shizun. He is perfectly fine if Shizun wants to end the conversation now.” Shen Yuan does not know Binghe is lying. That Binghe plans to lace his tea, his food with small traces. He will not lose his dear husband to be again. It’s for the best.
Shen Yuan surprises him.
A warm mouth closes over Binghe’s fingers, just long enough to swallow the drop of blood. He lets the fingers out with a wet pop so he can cough. Shen Yuan can feel it settle down his throat, in his stomach, the heat that spread is uncomfortable, unnatural.
Still, he drank it.
Fuck you, Binghe. He meant his apology.
“There. Are you satisfied? Is my restitution enough?”
“Oh, Shizun...how I adore you.” Binghe rubs his face into his hair, his shocked delight apparent. “I have the best teacher in the whole world.”
Shen Yuan pretends he doesn’t feel the tears Binghe sheds. He brushes away his own too quickly for Binghe to notice. Then he coughs again. “That is good to hear. Next. The part I had to play in your sexual development.”
Astounded, Binghe murmurs, “you mean we’re still talking?”
“Yes.” Shen Yuan pats the arm that tightens around him. “We are.”
“Shizun.” The whine is desperate.
“This topic is short. Your teacher swears.” The whine just gets more high pitched. “Even if I was...indecent at times–”
“All the times.”
“–Binghe remains capable of free agency. Just as Shizun is the only one who can make his choices, Binghe is the same. Binghe doesn't have to follow through with his...infatuation of his Shizun just because he may have imprinted on him. Binghe is free to, should experiment with other people before he decides what or who he likes.” Shen Yuan enunciates clearly.
“What if Binghe only likes Shizun?” Binghe argues because he’s a punk.
“What if being with Shizun denies Binghe experiences he could have with other lovers?”Shen Yuan returns.
“What if Binghe only wants to have experiences with Shizun period.”
“What if–” Shen Yuan stops himself. This is stupid. It’s like every other debate he’s had with his disciple. They’ll just go in circles until Shen Yuan loses. “Binghe is being unreasonable!”
“Binghe could say the same of his Shizun.” He nips the back of his neck at the affronted noise Shen Yuan makes. “Shizun is...you don’t understand how much you mean to this disciple.”
Shen Yuan sighs. He mentally weighs the pros and cons.
Well...at least Binghe seems to lack the urge to turn him into a human stick. That’s great, right? It’s not like he can really escape Binghe now. Or that anyone can win a fight against him. Shen Yuan did consider hugging the protagonist’s leg to survive, true he didn’t think it would be Binghe’s third leg, but beggars can’t be choosers. Fine. He’ll be Binghe’s first lover, maybe even his first harem member. He’ll be a novelty that’ll dull over time, but at least he’ll be an alive novelty. Perhaps in a few decades, he can return as a peak lord or even become a rogue cultivator. Yeah. That seems like a decent plan.
When he comes to, he realizes Binghe’s hand is fully in his robe, right over his heart. His fingers inch dangerously across Shen Yuan’s chest.
“Is our discussion over now, my dearest one? Can we...try again?” Binghe’s voice sounds hesitant but his touches are confident and oh Shen Yuan can feel Binghe’s other hand caressing his thigh.
“Oh, alright.” Surely over time, he will bore Binghe. Eventually.
It’s hard to keep that in mind when Binghe fishes out Shen Yuan’s cock. “Good. I’ve wanted to touch you all night.” He tugs at it, strokes it, plays with the head of it like it’s some toy.
“You have been touching me all night!” Shen Yuan cries helplessly.
“Not like..this.” And Binghe twists his wrist, the friction maddening that Shen Yuan can’t let but thrust his hips up. “I’ve missed teasing your pretty, pretty cock. Making you writhe in my arms.”
“Shameless.” Shen Yuan moans.
Binghe flicks one of his nipples to get a louder noise. “Never shameless enough when it comes to you.
Shen Yuan squirms, fights to escape his robe, fights to take off Binghe’s robe, the disciple refusing to help, only wanting to distract and Shen Yuan has to be the one to kick both garments off to the side. He gives a satisfied huff only to be bodily dragged back into the cage of Binghe’s arms. His brat is so fussy. Growling his displeasure of having empty hands for five seconds until Shen Yuan cups his face and offers hungry lips.
They’re both starving.
Considerately, Binghe rolls onto his back, cradling Shen Yuan to his chest. It gives the demon so much more room to work with. It lets Shen Yuan play with his hair without getting a cramp in his arm. It gives Binghe’s hands other things to play with.
To discover that the protagonist is obsessed with his ass was a shocking realization. One makes Shen Yuan ache and want.
Binghe's hands love to squeeze it, grip both cheeks, move to the center where he left one of his presents inside while Shen Yuan was sleeping. Shen Yuan tries to focus on the kiss, on Binghe’s taste, but his eyes keep squeezing tight and Binghe keeps tapping on the end of the toy.
He instinctively bears down, rocking the jade helper deeper inside him. Binghe coos at Shen Yuan. “Look at you. This disciple might not even be able to get our helper out, your hole is way too greedy to let it go. Shizun likes to be filled.”
Shen Yuan soundly slaps his arm. The one that continues to move. Even the tips of his ears burn with Binghe’s words.
Binghe groans, he plays with the flared base of the toy, pulling it only for Shen Yuan to unconsciously clench around it. It’s the dirtiest game of tug of war and Shen Yuan is going insane.
“Whatever shall we do, Shizun? You’re hugging it so tight. Should we let it stay in tonight?”
No. Shen Yuan can’t stand the idea, Binghe fingers will tug and grind the toy into him the entire night if he has his way. He’ll keep him stimulated. On edge. And tip him over it ruthlessly again and again. Shen Yuan will grow weaker and weaker with every orgasm until he can’t do anything against Binghe’s desires.
He has to say something. Now. “No, G-Get it out. I want it out!” The demand is shaky, but it’ll do.
“Are you sure?” Binghe smile is so dark. Too bad, Shen Yuan can’t see it with how his face is buried in Binghe’s throat. “This one worries about your comfort.”
“Get it out!” Shen Yuan hiccups on a sob. “Binghe, please!”
“As you wish.” Binghe trails his over hand over Shen Yuan’s back, taking time to push down, forcing their fronts to wetly mingle and glide—
Binghe is too big. He’ll never fit.
“It’ll fit.” Binghe murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Shen Yuan’s forehead. Oh, he must have said that last line aloud. “Binghe will make sure it only brings Shizun bliss.”
Shen Yuan’s cheeks are spread wide, giving plenty of space for Binghe to torment him. Large fingers circle the bottom of the toy, how it stretches his lover’s rim. One digit worms beside it to tug. Shen Yuan hisses.
He secures his grip on the helper. Thoughtfully Binghe’s muses, “Hmmm, maybe we’ll need to make you come again first. You’re still so tense.”
“No!” Shen Yuan’s fist pounds against Binghe’s chest. “I want it out!”
“That’s not what Shizun’s body is saying.” Those huge hands grope and squeeze. “If he wants me to remove it, then he needs to relax. He isn’t relaxed.”
“I’ll-I’ll—ah!” Binghe holds him in place as his hips roll up, giving their cocks much-needed friction, the precum drooling between them creates a special type of hell for Shen Yuan.
“Another orgasm would be good for you,” Binghe rains kisses on top of his head as Shen Yuan wails against his neck. “Yet to respect my teacher’s request, I’ll attempt to get it out at the same time.”
They grind together, Shen Yuan shakes to pieces as both his front and back are tortured. Pleasure turns him into this pathetic, needy creature. One that can only mewl and beg. Binghe successfully moves the toy back an inch, then two, the thick stem of it starting to come out.
Binghe lets go.
Shen Yuan body sucks the slight progress back in immediately. It hits his prostate straight on.
Shen Yuan chokes on air.
“Oh, no. My fingers slipped.” The brat says silkily as he grinds the toy at a better angle.
Shen Yuan digs his nails into his firm chest. Hard enough to draw blood. Hard when anger mixes with such destroying pleasure. He jerks his head up to snarl in Binghe’s face. “Liar. You meant to—“
Binghe eats the rest of his rage off his lips. Gulps it down and buries his tongue in his mouth. Shen Yuan almost bites it off. But Binghe kisses him too well, too good.
Binghe sucks on his lower lip, dragging his teeth across it before letting go, before apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Shizun. Let me try again.”
It takes two more ‘tries’ to get it out.
By then Shen Yuan’s almost limp on top of Binghe, absolutely useless, when the horrible man brings up the toy to his face to examine it.
“I never knew Shizun would enjoy our helpers this much.” He licks the jade, sucks the tip right in front of Shen Yuan. “Ah, it’s still warm.”
“I hate them.”
It won’t take much more to ruin him. Shen Yuan’s eyes prick with frustrated tears. An accidental brush might make him come.
Binghe hums almost condescendingly, letting the toy fall somewhere. “Let’s see how much you gape.”
Two fingers slide in so easily. Carefully. There’s space for a third, maybe even a fourth, but that’s not Binghe’s point.
They’re worse than the toy.
Instead of random brushes of pleasure, his digits already know where to make Shen Yuan sing.
They drag over his spot, thrust and then stop. They wait. Wait so the edge isn’t so near, wait until Shen Yuan stupidly thinks he can catch his breath. Thrust and then stops. Shen Yuan can’t even predict what Binghe’s going to do, it’s as if this demon’s determined to wring out every last pinched out noise from him.
“How should we have you come, Shizun?” Binghe asks sweetly like an asshole. “This disciple can serve you like this if you wish.”
Shen Yuan burns.
His arms tighten around Binghe’s neck. Binghe should burn too.
“I want to come on your cock.”
Binghe’s breathing stutters. Those stupid, awful fingers cease and freeze.
“This Shizun wants to try, Binghe.” Vindictively Shen Yuan enjoys the effects of his taunt. That’s right, take a bit of your own medicine, you beast! He let out a moan, but it’s not as fake as he wants. “Please? I feel so empty.”
Binghe’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows roughly. Shen Yuan has enough presence of mind to bite it. Binghe shudders. Good. “But, but there’s a least one more helper to ease–”
Shen Yuans bites harder.
Luo Binghe’s mouth runs dry, “Not to mention we’d have to go so slow. I do not wish to deny Shizun his pleasure, his release much longer.”
Shen Yuan just coughs a single laugh. Bullshit. He sucks on the imprint of his teeth marks, before whispering in the dark, “No more helpers. N-Not tonight.”
Then he lies in the grave he’s dug for them.
“Give it to me.”
...It takes forever.
Forever for Binghe to position him right, Shen Yuan spread out, facing that fucking ceiling, his hips propped up on a few pillows because he has no energy to move.
Forever for Binghe to slick himself up with lube he’s magically produced in thin air, though Shen Yuan’s not sure, he was too busy watching Binghe’s fist move over his monster of a cock.
Forever for Binghe to push in, so agonizingly slow, millimeter by millimeter but it doesn’t hurt, Binghe won’t let Shen Yuan hurt and…
Shen Yuan comes when it’s only halfway in.
The cry that leaves him is a sad broken thing. He doesn’t even have the strength to scream. His stomach is gross as his cum drips down towards his chest.
But Binghe is shaking so hard, his hips making aborted jerks as he struggles to stay still. The inside of Shen Yuan must be maddening. The way his body spasms and tries to pull Binghe in even deeper.
Binghe's face looks positively destroyed.
He’s so happy they match. Shen Yuan clenches down meanly. It’s worth it. Even as Binghe starts to fuck him through the aftershocks.
Shen Yuan’s last words of the night are, “We’re not done. Get all inside of me, Binghe.”
It takes a while before his dear disciple says his.
“Oh, I knew you’d look so good on my cock, Shizun.”