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“Shizun, it’s really not that cold,” Luo Binghe calls and Shen Qingqiu grumbles in the direction of his retreating back, hands hesitating on the tie of his innermost robe. 

It’s just an act, of course. 

As much as he likes to pretend otherwise, it takes very little for Shen Qingqiu to cave into his husband’s demands. Perhaps it’s the way that Luo Binghe had first asked, bashfully as he took Shen Qingqiu’s slender and learned fingers in his own wolf-like hands and put forward his request. Shen Qingqiu had told him to go ahead without him, that this master may consider joining him depending how he felt. 

Or perhaps it was earlier, when Luo Binghe’s eyes went bright with an idea, when he stumbled across a hidden waterfall in the middle of a forest, a perfect secluded bathing spot for the two of them. 

It’s a small but gorgeous waterfall, glimmering under the late afternoon sun. Summer is in full flush and the greenery that wreaths the pool is so lush and vibrant, it’s enough to make one’s head spin. The pool at the bottom of the waterfall is a vivid turquoise with many shades of blue and green caught in it like a glimmering gem. A fine mist rises up from cascading water and in the sticky heat of the day, the pool looks inviting. 

That though is not what convinces Shen Qingqiu. The real reason as to why Shen Qingqiu has given into Luo Binghe’s request, the real reason he’s stripped down to the last gossamer layer of his robes, is the way that Luo Binghe looks as he treads through the water. His hair is swept up into a neat ponytail, allowing Shen Qingqiu to see the cut of his broad shoulders and the sharp planes of his back. The sun catches Luo Binghe  at just the right angle to show the flex of his muscles as he drags one hand through the water, rippling it lightly.

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth is dry. He’s long given up on telling himself he’s just got a healthy respect for a protagonist’s figure. Luo Binghe looks over his shoulder and sees Shen Qingqiu slowly dropping his last robe. The way he openly rakes his gaze over his body makes Shen Qingqiu warm, as does sight of the green pendant that sits on his bare chest. 

Feeling flustered already, Shen Qingqiu kicks his robe off to the side, piling it with his other clothes.

“What are you looking at,” Shen Qingqiu says as he approaches the bank of the pool. He dips a toe in and the water is pleasant, cool to the touch but not unbearable. He shivers lightly as he steps in further but it’s a welcome feeling. 

Luo Binghe smiles when he sees that Shen Qingqiu has finally joined him and starts to walk towards him.

“It’s deeper near the falls if Shizun wants to swim,” Luo Binghe says, looping an arm around Shen Qingqiu’s waist. The water feels heavenly around him and he goes easily as Luo Binghe tugs him away from the bank.

A mix of the sun bearing down on them, the cool water, and the light fragrance of the forest around them leaves Shen Qingqiu in a good mood. A playful mood even, and he’s so glad he can act on these moods now without fearing for his life. Once they’re hip-deep in the water, Shen Qingqiu pushes away from Luo Binghe.

“Binghe needs a proper bath,” Shen Qingqiu says in the sagest possible voice he can muster and Luo Binghe gives him a questioning look. Shen Qingqiu dips a hand in the water and for a moment, Luo Binghe looks confused.

Then Shen Qingqiu splashes him, right against that defined upper body of his, getting some of his face too. Luo Binghe blinks in surprise and then says a light “ Shizun!” while Shen Qingqiu tries not to look too smug.

Until Luo Binghe sends a reciprocal wave his way, one that completely drenches him.

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu admonishes. Not because he’s angry he got soaked but because he’s angry that Luo Binghe outdid him.

“Sorry—” Luo Binghe starts but Shen Qingqiu tries to catch him off guard, sending another giant splash of water. Shen Qingqiu tries not to look too smug and starts to preemptively wade over before Luo Binghe starts giving him the puppy dog eyes.

Only to be met again with a face full of water. 

That man…!

Luo Binghe ducks as Shen Qingqiu retaliates and they dance around each other like that, trying to splash each other. Shen Qingqiu can’t help but grin, not even missing his fan to hide his honest face as he tries to avoid Luo Binghe’s vicious attacks.

At one point, determined to get the upper hand, Shen Qingqiu dives underwater as soon as Luo Binghe sends another wave his way. He initially plans to grab Luo Binghe by the legs and flip him over; it’s childish, but it was a lot of fun to do to his friends in the pool when he was a kid, and the look on Binghe’s face would be priceless.

But as soon as he ducks underwater, he realizes that he is not alone. He sees Luo Binghe through the clear blue, and before he can do anything, his husband is grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him close. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widen and he stops himself from making a sound of surprise, not wanting to choke on a lungful of water. Luo Binghe grins and tugs them to the surface.

As soon as they break through the water, a pair of warm lips are on Shen Qingqiu and strong arms wrap around his waist again. Luo Binghe doesn’t hold back as he kisses him, as he presses his wet and firm body against Shen Qingqiu’s and slides them together.  The afternoon breeze on his damp skin makes Shen Qingqiu shiver, as does the way his husband moves his mouth against his, full of intent.

Shen Qingqiu does nothing to stop it, just grips onto Luo Binghe’s biceps as his husband eagerly nips at his lower lip. Shen Qingqiu only voices a minor complaint about the way Luo Binghe chews through the kiss; Luo Binghe has long learned how to kiss with all of the protagonist gusto and it never fails to make him dizzy.  

Truly, they’ve been travelling alone for too long if they’re this shameless…

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu murmurs between the kisses, tilting his head to taste more of Luo Binghe. He gets what he wants, and enjoys the slick slide of their mouths together.

“This one has a request,” Luo Binghe says against his mouth, and Shen Qingqiu can feel the curve of his smile. Luo Binghe squeezes his arms once around Shen Qingqiu before letting go, and Shen Qingqiu tries to not look bereft when Luo Binghe draws back.


“Let me wash your hair,” Luo Binghe says, and it’s so incredibly sweet that Shen Qingqiu is nodding along without a thought. “If I do this, will Shizun wash mine in return?”

“This one will think about it,” Shen Qingqiu says, as if it is a difficult request. He pushes away from Luo Binghe, stepping back towards the bank.

“Where are you going?” Luo Binghe tries to follow him, but Shen Qingqiu stops him with a palm against his chest. 

“Patience, Binghe.”

One of the more menial tasks of this world is to keep his own curtain of long, black hair as lustrous as possible. Shen Qingqiu is glad that Luo Binghe has taken a liking to washing his hair for him, because all the steps with the rice water and the oils to clean and condition make his head spin. He misses his 3-in-1 soap/shampoo/conditioner sometimes, but he supposes he doesn’t miss smelling like dishwashing detergent.

Shen Qingqiu climbs onto the bank and heads towards his haphazard pile of robes. He digs through them and searches his own pouch, only to come up empty handed. Luo Binghe must have packed their supplies with himself then.

Another breeze rolls through, causing Shen Qingqiu to shiver. He reaches for his innermost robe and slides it on, wanting to keep warm while he hunts down the conditioning oils for their hair. Shen Qingqiu’s nose tickles as he wraps the white cloth around his body tightly, and he lets out a small sneeze.

He looks down and groans, seeing soft pinks and reds dusting across part of his robe. It looks like he dumped his robes in a flower bed without thinking, and a messy one at that. Shen Qingqiu makes his first mistake of the afternoon by swiping a finger through the pollen sticking to the robe and sniffing it. It’s cloyingly sweet, almost to the point where he doesn’t like it. It smells like cheap perfume, and Shen Qingqiu makes a face as he wipes the hand off on his robe.

He sneezes again, and catches it in time into the sleeve of his robe. That too is covered in the flower dust, he realizes with dismay as he pulls back. Ah, well. It’s not like he’s the one that does their laundry anyways.

Shen Qingqiu waddles over to where Luo Binghe had left his clothes in a neat pile. The afternoon sun warms him as he digs through his husband’s things, looking for the qiankun pouch they keep like a camping bag. Shen Qingqiu can feel the rays of the sun bear down on him, causing the back of his neck to heat.

Still distracted by his search, Shen Qingqiu shifts his hair over one shoulder to get some relief for his neck. But it’s still hot out, and only seems to get hotter. It is summer though, so he doesn’t pay it much mind as he finally pulls out the conditioning oil he was looking for.  It smells like agarwood and lotus and Shen Qingqiu loves burying his face in Binghe’s hair when he’s run this oil through it.  

It’s taken long enough that the sun is practically roasting him. He feels particularly sensitive to it today for some reason, but Shen Qingqiu doesn’t register something is off till he stands up.

The dizziness hits him first, making him sway on his feet. Shen Qingqiu sees colourful spots float in front of his vision for a moment and he blinks them away. He pivots on his heel and loses his balance, stumbling a little and almost dropping the vial of oil. His stomach lurches with the movement, and nausea hits him.  Shen Qingqiu is suddenly hit with a violent emptiness, like part of himself has broken off. 

Something is wrong. Very wrong. 

“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu calls out, but his throat has suddenly gone so dry that it comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Binghe, where are you? This one isn’t quite feeling right…”

But his husband is nowhere to be found. Not by the bank, not in the pool of water. Shen Qingqiu feels an uncomfortable heat start to swirl at the base of his spine, feels his cheeks start to flush. 


Shen Qingqiu staggers towards the bank, looking for any sign of his husband. Panic starts to rise within him, mixed with the strange fever that’s building in his body. He sends a small spell, rippling through the water, but there’s still no sign of Luo Binghe. 

Shen Qingqiu jumps into the water without thinking, still in his robe, building his desperation in his hunt for his husband. He only turned his back for a minute and yet, his husband is missing…

The cool water does nothing to alleviate the heat coursing through him, and Shen Qingqiu sends another frantic spell through the water. This causes a stronger ripple to pulse through the pool and suddenly, a familiar figure is surging up through the water. 

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, treading towards Luo Binghe, cursing the way that the water is slowing him down. “Binghe, where were you!”

“I was just playing, Shizun, I thought I’d hide and...” Luo Binghe trails off, seeing the state of Shen Qingqiu trudging towards him in the water, white robe soaked through. 

“Don’t do that!” Shen Qingqiu says and god, is his voice cracking? Shen Qingqiu has a feeling that he’s maybe ingested something, maybe accidentally stepped on something or smelled something…

That dust!

That red dust!

This infernal world and its infernal tropes! Shen Qingqiu has settled in so well to married life, he’s forgotten that he still has the ability to trip some very stupid flags. 

“Shizun, are you okay?” Luo Binghe reaches for him and the moment his fingertips brush over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, an electric feeling jolts through Shen Qingqiu so hard that he almost doubles over.

No, he’s very much not okay! Luo Binghe lets go of him but Shen Qingqiu grabs his wrist and jerks so that Luo Binghe is tumbling forward. Their bodies collide ungracefully and Luo Binghe steadies them, his hands like a searing brand on Shen Qingqiu. 

It’s quite clear what’s happened to Shen Qingqiu. The heat, the pain, the sudden need to climb Luo Binghe like a particularly appealing tree— the faint pink still staining his robes, even after his robes have gotten drenched through all his movement. 

“Binghe come here,” Shen Qingqiu demands, and Luo Binghe squeezes his biceps. 

“I’m already here,” Luo Binghe replies and Shen Qingqiu makes a sound of frustration. 

Sadly, very sadly, this is not the first time he’s succumbed to an aphrodisiac. This isn’t even the first time this year and Shen Qingqiu can’t wait to get his hands around the neck of the annoying creator of this world and wring it. Bearing the burden and plot lines of six hundred wives was still too much!

“Come here,” Shen Qingqiu repeats and when Luo Binghe doesn’t quite listen, he finds himself surging forward without a second thought. Their lips crash together and Luo Binghe makes a sound of genuine surprise as Shen Qingqiu plasters himself against his front. 

It’s not his finest moment, but Shen Qingqiu feels like he gets a pass— it’s not his fault that this world is rife with horny botanicals! He’s allowed to be like this every now and then, especially with his husband!

Each wet slide of their lips stokes the fire higher and higher within Shen Qingqiu. It makes him burn so hot that his insides feel like they’re going to melt, that he feels like he’s scalding the water around them. And all he can think about is how he wants more, so much more of Binghe till he’s too far out of his senses to feel anymore. The feeling of emptiness of feeling abates with every touch of his husband’s body. 

When Luo Binghe twines his fingers through Shen Qingqiu’s hair to take control of the kiss, the relief that rolls through almost brings Shen Qingqiu to tears. He groans and digs his fingers into the meat of Binghe’s shoulders, desperate. He doesn’t register Luo Binghe calling to him until Luo Binghe gently tugs, drawing him back. 

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says slightly louder and finally gets his attention. “Shizun, are you okay?”

Shen Qingqiu restrains from rolling his eyes but he gives Luo Binghe a flushed and beleaguered look as he forces himself to pull back. Thankfully, Luo Binghe is intelligent and picks up on the way his husband’s eyes are overly bright, the way he’s bruising Luo Binghe as he clutches onto him. 

Shen Qingqiu feels his fingers get pried open as Luo Binghe takes the vial from his hand and starts walking him backwards. Luo Binghe keeps one hand on his hip as he guides him, till they’re in a shallower part of the pool, the water reaching up mid-thigh. Shen Qingqiu’s robes cling close to his body, their wet translucency doing nothing to hide the way he’s affected. Luo Binghe’s eyes drop down for a moment and when they rake back up, Shen Qingqiu sees something hungry flash in him. 

Normally that fills him with nervous anticipation but all he can think now is good

Two hands grab his hips and hitch him up, setting him down on a flat outcrop of rocks in the pool. Shen Qingqiu reaches for a kiss again and Luo Binghe acquiesces, just for a sweet moment.

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe murmurs against his mouth. “Let this one use his blood to cleanse the poison.”

It would be the quickest, most efficient way to get rid of whatever has infected Shen Qingqiu’s blood stream. Sometimes they do use his demonic blood to cleanse out the stronger poisons from Shen Qingqiu’s system, if they’re in the middle of an important duty.

But the heat boiling in him roils at the mere thought of Luo Binghe not touching him and plus— they’ve done this so many times by now. Luo Binghe always tries to act like a gentleman in these situations and while Shen Qingqiu appreciates the sentiment, he wants his husband right now. They’re in the middle of the woods, alone with no immediate task at hand and Shen Qingqiu knows this in his addled state.

“You would rather use the blood parasites than touch me?” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, letting it sound needy and shameless. Embarrassment hits him but is immediately swallowed up by desire. Luo Binghe looks stricken for a moment before he lurches forward, and Shen Qingqiu lets his legs fall apart so that his husband can slot himself between them.

The kiss is bruising, with too much teeth and tongue between them. It tastes divine and Shen Qingqiu hooks a strong arm around Luo Binghe’s neck, longing to devour and be devoured. No matter how many times they have each other, Luo Binghe’s touch always feels new. This time it feels particularly exhilarating. 

Luo Binghe breaks off the kiss and starts mouthing along Shen Qingqiu’s neck, sloppier in his movements. That’s more like it, Shen Qingqiu thinks, and immediately feels his ears burn at the sentiment. Or maybe that’s the pollen again, taking over.

“My apologies,” Luo Binghe says against his neck as his large hands slide down to push at a slender thigh. Eager, Luo Binghe’s hand slides in between Shen Qingqiu’s legs, pushing apart his soaked robes to palm at him.

Shen Qingqiu inhales sharply, his vision vignetting at the touch. His eyes roll back in his head as Luo Binghe strokes him gently and a loud moan escapes his mouth despite his attempt at restraint. Before he knows what’s happening, his legs are twitching and his core is contracting, and Shen Qingqiu is coming all over Luo Binghe’s palm.

“Binghe—!” Shen Qingqiu cries out and Luo Binghe blinks, a little surprised at how quick it all happened. Shen Qingqiu’s head swims, mind unmoored for a moment as he pants. His vision blurs and his husband’s face swims in front of him, looking deeply concerned.

Both of them drop their gaze down between them, from where Luo Binghe still has a hand loosely wrapped around Shen Qingqiu. And where Shen Qingqiu is still very clearly hard.

What the hell had he inhaled! Such a small amount and it was so potent!

“Shizun, I think…” Luo Binghe trails off, his eyes not quite meeting Shen Qingqiu’s. It’s not out of shame though, or embarrassment. Shen Qingqiu recognizes this expression, and it runs a shiver through him.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Shen Qingqiu says breathlessly. “Don’t call me Shizun while we do this kind of thing.”

Luo Binghe nods, still looking distracted. Shen Qingqiu squirms, and hooks an ankle over Luo Binghe’s back. He reaches forward to brush some of the damp hair plastered to Luo Binghe’s forehead and even that sends a frisson of heat surging through him.

It’s going to be a very, very long evening.

The smell of lotus and agarwood fills the air as Luo Binghe presses Shen Qingqiu down flat against the rock. Shen Qingqiu’s body more than invites the press of Luo Binghe’s slicked fingers and it is still not enough to abate Shen Qingqiu’s hunger. He knows that sadly, like all the other stupid plot devices he’s stumbled upon, he’s not going to be sated till they’ve gone at it like animals.

Shen Qingqiu also knows that despite his protests about his old man hips and his insistence that it’s Luo Binghe that acts too much like an over-eager dog, the memory of Luo Binghe working him open will linger in his dreams for a while. Even the ones where his husband isn’t setting the scene for them.

Despite already having finished once, Shen Qingqiu still feels feverish with want. It’s like nothing has happened, like he’s barely been touched despite the fact that he’s rocking down onto Luo Binghe’s hand, gripping his husband’s neck with one hand and white-knuckling the edge of the rock with another.

“More, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu demands, deciding to lift his other leg and wrap it around Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe crooks his fingers and Shen Qingqiu nearly jumps— only to be pinned back down against the rock by his shoulder. The action is so hot that Shen Qingqiu feels himself twitching.

Luo Binghe is merciless with his fingers and it makes Shen Qingqiu want to twist and turn and let out a slew of curse words. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes nearly cross with each moment and Luo Binghe presses kisses down his neck and across his sternum, leaving little bite marks, mouthing and sucking over his most sensitive areas.

It makes Shen Qingqiu visibly impatient, and he knows Luo Binghe can tell. Shen Qingqiu bites down on his lower lip, willing himself to get a hold of himself even by a fraction, and he knows it’s a wasted effort. He can’t. He’s at the complete mercy of his husband who has decided to take his time now, of all the times. Where was this patience two nights ago, when Shen Qingqiu was laid face-down on a desk in the inn room they were staying at!

(His restraint doesn’t work.)

“In me, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says, words spilling out before he can think about it. The craving heat is practically clawing away at his insides, demanding that it gets sated and threatening to completely consume him.  “Nh -now.”

Luo Binghe mutters something low, and Shen Qingqiu’s sharp gaze immediately snap to him. “What did you say?”

“It’s too rough for Shizun’s skin if we stay here,” Luo Binghe repeats himself, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt.”

Shen Qingqiu is about to tell Luo Binghe that no, it won’t, not as long as he goes gently. Then the thought of Luo Binghe being gentle with him while he’s in this state fills him with great despair.

“Are you going to put me on the dirt instead?” Shen Qingqiu says incredulously— both he and his body are clearly ready, and they’re on a flat surface. He can feel Luo Binghe between him too, hard and wanting and dripping.

The more time Luo Binghe spends looking at Shen Qingqiu’s face, the more agitated Shen Qingqiu gets. Why did Binghe choose this as the moment to be extra considerate! He must be doing this on purpose, must be doing it so that he can thoroughly wring Shen Qingqiu out with little complaint.

Shen Qingqiu feels another pulse of searing heat wrack through him, and he’s a hair’s width away from pushing off the rock and dragging them onto the bank so that he can straddle Luo Binghe and take what he needs.

Luo Binghe must be able to tell he’s getting more restless because he leans in once more to slot his mouth against Shen Qingqiu’s. It’s not enough and Shen Qingqiu has long lost any sense of propriety, so he immediately parts his lips and slides his tongue forward into Binghe’s mouth. Luo Binghe’s hands wander momentarily and Shen Qingqiu can feel the brush of knuckles between his legs. 

Luo Binghe makes a sweet sound as he strokes himself, one that Shen Qingqiu fervently eats up. They both pant into the messy kiss and Shen Qingqiu slides one of his hands down to pinch at Luo Binghe’s chest, all in the hopes to spur him on.

Shen Qingqiu feels his legs getting hitched further up till his knees drape over the crooks of Luo Binghe’s elbows. He barely registers the stretch in his thighs as he squeezes his legs, pleased that Luo Binghe has finally gotten a move on with it. Shen Qingqiu slips his arms around Luo Binghe’s neck just as his husband rocks them together, and moans low into his mouth.

He’s so gone that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even feel his normal amount of mild fear when he feels how large his husband is against him. Instead he makes another needy sound into the kiss as Luo Binghe’s hands slide under his back. His world tilts and Shen Qingqiu clings as Luo Binghe lifts him up.

Shen Qingqiu stays attached to his husband’s mouth, refusing to let go lest Luo Binghe decides to start thinking again. A few stray water droplets trail down Luo Binghe’s body and Shen Qingqiu tries to tighten their embrace and absorb his husband’s heat.

Luo Binghe doesn’t move for a moment, just stands there as they slick their mouths together. Shen Qingqiu feels like he’s a gangly teenager with raging hormones and insatiably horny once again, except this time he actually has an outlet.

An outlet that is taking forever to get to the point. The kiss is distracting enough though that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t notice that Luo Binghe has shifted his weight onto one arm. Not until he feels Luo Binghe squeeze his rear, gripping tight as he takes himself in hand and starts to press in.

To his credit, them going slow right now is going to save Shen Qingqiu a world of grief when he’s sobered up. However, with the way the pollen is still circulating wildly though his system, Shen Qingqiu is feeling incredibly antsy.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu breaks off their kiss, his chest flushed a deep pink as he takes heaving breaths. He tries to rock his hips down but Luo Binghe’s hold is firm as he seats himself at his own pace. “This master would like to know if something is wrong.”

Luo Binghe looks at him, half in inquisition and half in hazy lust while he continues to go torturously slow, gently rocking his hips up.

“Shizun?” He says and his voice is so low, so sultry as he slowly sinks Shen Qingqiu down onto him that Shen Qingqiu can’t even scold Binghe for calling him that.

“Why is it now that Binghe has learned patience?” Shen Qingqiu demands. He moves one of his hands to press dull nails into Luo Binghe’s back and drags. Luo Binghe shivers at that, and Shen Qingqiu does it again. “Go faster.”

If his legs weren’t still hooked over Luo Binghe’s elbows, Shen Qingqiu would have kicked him lightly with his heels. Luo Binghe is silent for a moment, eyebrows pinching while his eyes darken. There’s a gorgeous flush across the bridge of his nose, hiding the light freckles he’s gotten from their time under the sun.


The air is knocked straight out of Shen Qingqiu as Luo Binghe suddenly yanks at him, snapping his hips forward as he grips Shen Qingqiu so tightly Shen Qingqiu is sure he’s going to have handprints on the most inopportune locations after this.

Shen Qingqiu bites back a loud keen as the corners of his eyes prickle with wetness. Craving it is one thing— even in this state, having Luo Binghe abruptly bottom out in him falls on just this side of being too much, too big, too hot. But surprisingly it doesn’t hurt. Shen Qingqiu’s body decides to skip its adjustment period altogether, eager for more.

Luo Binghe buries his face in the crook of Shen Qingqiu’s neck, and Shen Qingqiu knows that he is done for.

“This one asks for forgiveness,” Luo Binghe says, voice hoarse. “With these types of poison, we would need to work extensively to get rid of it. I just wanted to take my time at the beginning, since this will not be our only attempt today. This way, it would hurt less for my husband.”

...What was Shen Qingqiu supposed to say to that! Such gentlemanly words thinly covering up Luo Binghe’s intentions to completely wreck him! 

Shen Qingqiu is thankfully saved from replying when Luo Binghe lifts him off halfway and then brings him down, so slow that Shen Qingqiu can feel his brain melting with the drag. His words fetter out into a slack-jawed moan as Luo Binghe moves them, lifting Shen Qingqiu and grinding him back down on his lap like he weighs nothing.

The wet fabric of his inner robe feels heavier and colder around Shen Qingqiu, and it’s the only relief his burning skin gets. Luo Binghe goes torturously slow and Shen Qingqiu would curse him out loud if he wasn’t falling apart into pieces. He thought that at least now he would have some reprieve but it feels like the pollen is just getting greedier and greedier with each languid thrust.

“Binghe, faster— ah, I want to work out the poison,” Shen Qingqiu pleads, trying to entice his husband.

“This one knows,” Luo Binghe half-groans, taking his time. “This one just wants to make sure that his husband is ready.”

Rationally, Luo Binghe may have a point. However, rational thought has packed up its bags and has abandoned Shen Qingqiu to his caveman brain. And all it knows, all it wants is lust right now, as fast and hard as he can get it.

So Shen Qingqiu tugs at Luo Binghe’s hair and pulls him into what he hopes is an enticing kiss, despite how haphazard it is. He licks into Luo Binghe’s mouth, sucks on his tongue, tries to tempt his as much as he can, tries to roll his hips at the same time. 

Luo Binghe twitches at that and his next thrust is a little sharper. Doubling his efforts, Shen Qingqiu starts to plaster kisses all over Luo Binghe’s face, whispering how much he wants Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe starts to slowly pick up the pace as Shen Qingqiu eggs him on, but Shen Qingqiu wants more.

So he decides to pull out the real stops and starts kissing Luo Binghe along the jaw, down his neck, nipping his earlobe just on this side of too harsh before he bites at the junction of his shoulder. Shen Qingqiu sinks his teeth in with the next thrust up and moans, making sure he does it hard enough to mar the skin. He feels Luo Binghe tense against him, twitch in him, and lets go of the bite, soothing it with his tongue.

Luo Binghe breaks, and starts to snap his hips up in earnest. He grabs Shen Qingqiu’s hair and pulls, forcing Shen Qingqiu to bare his neck for him as Luo Binghe thrusts into him. Luo Binghe mouths at his adam’s apple, sucking a possessive mark as he bucks up.

Finally, Shen Qingqiu thinks, and everything swirling within him meets each of Binghe’s thrust with a spike of glee. Luo Binghe is heated and heavy and finally letting go, fucking up hard as he holds Shen Qingqiu up.

Shen Qingqiu hisses in pleasure, ducks his head and is met in a more ferocious kiss. He’s jolted as he’s bounced and Luo Binghe reaches so deep that he can feel it in his throat. Shen Qingqiu chokes out a cry and holds tight onto  Luo Binghe. He can’t even think to touch himself, not yet while his brain is turning into mush.

And yet, Shen Qingqiu knows that this is not all he can get.

“Ah, ah—” Shen Qingqiu huffs out, and tries to catch Luo Binghe’s gaze. There’s a tinge of red in his husband’s eyes and Shen Qingqiu shuts his own, letting out another low groan before he says, “This one is wo — oh — wondering why his husband is— ah, Binghe, why his husband’s holding back—”

Luo Binghe drags him up till he’s almost all the way off and pauses for a moment. The moment lasts long enough Shen Qingqiu’s eyes fly open to look at Luo Binghe, just as Luo Binghe drops him down hard. The force of it is strong enough to send a hot spike of pleasure through Shen Qingqiu’s spine and send his eyes rolling back.

And then they’re properly off, Luo Binghe rutting fast and hard against him, the sound of it indecent. Shen Qingqiu clings as he gets his senses completely screwed out of him, drowning in the way his husband consumes him. He shapes a loud cry around Luo Binghe’s name and feels the back of his thighs bruise with the ferocity of his husband’s movements.

His core tightens, pleasure coiling deep in his gut as their movements become more frantic. Luo Binghe’s stamina feels like a blessing now, because getting thoroughly done is the only way Shen Qingqiu can feel any relief. He thinks he continues to chant Luo Binghe’s name— he’s not sure, not with the way his brain is melting.

Shen Qingqiu’s whole body trembles and burns and it only spurs Luo Binghe on. There’s sweat beading at Luo Binghe’s temple and Shen Qingqiu manages to get enough coherence to wipe it away as Luo Binghe grits his teeth. The rolls of pleasure that hit him over and over again are practically unbearable and finally, finally Shen Qingqiu has a moment of coherence and reaches a hand between them, desperate to touch himself.

It only takes a brush of his fingers.

Shen Qingqiu comes and it feels like his entire body is melting, turning into jelly as he finishes between them. He feels like liquid light, feels the tide take him under only to throw him back out, pushing and pulling and clawing at him as he shatters into pieces. The feeling skitters from the roots of his hair down to the tips of his toes and Shen Qingqiu’s vision near-blacks out, stronger than the first time he came.

It’s so intense that he doesn’t even register that Luo Binghe is still using him, still fucking into him, till he feels his husband shudder and release, filling him up as he continues to rock into him. His spine tingles in a very pleasant way and for a moment, Shen Qingqiu feels sated. His body aches in the best way and Shen Qingqiu gasps for breath as Luo Binghe stutters in him. They ride it out together and Shen Qingqiu can feel his heartbeat hard in his eardrums. 

Yet, he gets none of the clarity that usually follows their finishing. 

In fact, he gets only a moment of reprieve before another wave of heat slaps him in the face, unwilling to let him go.

“Huh?” Shen Qingqiu says breathlessly, unfocused gaze settling on Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe looks like he’s in a daze as well, albeit with a little more control.

Shen Qingqiu looks down between them and lets out a soft “fuck” when he sees that he’s still at half mast. Some of his common sense comes back to him, but not a lot of it. Most of him just wants his husband again. 

At this rate, he’d really have to grow himself another body yet again!

“Does Shizun need more help?” Luo Binghe asks in a voice that is way too innocent, and Shen Qingqiu glares at him.

“What do you think?” Shen Qingqiu says hotly, and Luo Binghe gives him a sunny smile. He’s still partially hard too, though that’s a common thing for Luo Binghe, even without any weird flower pollen or aphrodisiacs.

Luo Binghe gently lifts him up off of him completely, and Shen Qingqiu makes a noise at how painfully empty it feels. Binghe still holds onto him and starts to walk them over to the bank, stepping out onto the grass. 

“I can find Shizun a place for the night,” Luo Binghe says, and out of his peripheral Shen Qingqiu can hear the sound of some robes getting kicked around. “But it might be better if we relieve some more of the poison right now.”

“Ah…” Shen Qingqiu yelps a little as Binghe starts to lower them, his back hitting expensive fabric as Luo Binghe lays them out. “My disciple is so smart…”

Luo Binghe smiles at him, all sweet and soft and saccharine in a way that makes Shen Qingqiu’s heart flip, even through the haze of heat. It’s tender and Shen Qingqiu licks at his lower lip, wanting to taste Luo Binghe again.

And then he finds himself turned onto his belly, and his hips getting hitched up. Shen Qingqiu tries to prop himself up on his elbows, but a flat palm presses against the knob of his spine, causing him to collapse.

“My apologies, Shizun,” Luo Binghe says from behind him, and Shen Qingqiu’s breath gets caught in his throat as he feels a familiar press. “This way, it might be easier to ensure the poison has thoroughly left your system.”

It’s not hard for Luo Binghe to slide in after their previous activities, and Shen Qingqiu tilts his head as he groans with the sensation. Luo Binghe drapes himself completely over his body and meets Shen Qingqiu for a gentle kiss, one that belies the power thrumming between them both.

“Just make sure you do a good job,” Shen Qingqiu mumbles and the curve of Luo Binghe’s mouth against his turns dangerous.

Later on, much later when a very thoroughly done Shen Qingqiu has regained partial use of his body, he sees Luo Binghe dressed and squatting beside the bush of flowers where he had first carelessly thrown his robes. 

“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu calls out, and Luo Binghe looks up with an innocent expression. Too innocent.

“Just seeing if I could figure out what these were,” Luo Binghe replies, and straightens up. His nose twitches and for a moment, panic runs through Shen Qingqiu. He was absolutely insatiable to the point where he felt like a beast— if these flowers get a hold of Binghe, then Shen Qingqiu might as well kiss his back goodbye! 

“They don’t seem to have any effect on me though,” Luo Binghe says thoughtfully, and Shen Qingqiu breathes out a sigh of relief. 

(Though he does see Luo Binghe not so surreptitiously pluck a few and wrap them in a silk handkerchief when he thinks Shen Qingqiu isn’t looking. 

Shen Qingqiu is sure he’s going to get surprised with them later on, hopefully when they’re in a room with a proper bed and not on a forest floor where Shen Qingqiu is going to get a host of knee scrapes and bug bites.

It wouldn’t be too bad, Shen Qingqiu thinks as he looks at Luo Binghe’s handsome face. Wouldn’t be too bad at all.)