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Chapter Text

“What?”

Shen Jiu sat impassively across the table from his gaping brother, Yue Qingyuan sitting silent but tense at his own side. 

“A-Yuan-“ Yue Qingyuan started, voice tinged half with pity and half with desperation.

Utterly repulsive.

“No, no, hold on.” Shen Yuan held up his hand, cutting off the sect leader impatiently. Shen Jiu felt a curl of satisfaction at the blatant display of arrogance. “Why would we get married? You don’t even like me.”

Yue Qingyuan’s face crumbled in despair, mouth open in an unformed disagreement as an unbecoming sound crawled its way out of his throat in his distress.

“I mean romantically, Qi-ge.” Shen Yuan rolled his eyes at the pathetic display in front of him and instead turned to Shen Jiu. “What is this?”

Shen Jiu made a show of straightening his sleeves and carefully picking up his tea, twirling the liquid around the cup with feigned scrutiny. His brother’s face twitched in irritation.

“It’s exactly as it seems, didi.” He set the cup down with a faint clink, idling it between his fingers. “You will marry Zhangmen-shixiong.”

“Will.” Shen Yuan repeated, face blank. 

“Yes.” 

Shen Yuan stared at him over the table for a moment before rising from his seat.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear this conversation. That it never happened.”

“Sit down.”

“No. You’re being unreasonable and ridiculous-“ Shen Yuan pointed at the silent sect leader who only watched helplessly as the two brothers argued. “You expect me to believe that he wants to marry me? That anyone in their right mind would believe that?”

“I said sit down.” Shen Jiu hissed, slamming the teacup down on the table for emphasis. “This isn’t a discussion. You will marry Yue Qingyuan and that is final. Sit down!”

Shen Yuan scoffed, moving towards the door with an irritated wave of his hand.

“It’s not happening-“ Shen Yuan cut off with a shout as Shen Jiu followed him up and wrapped the other’s hair in his fist, yanking it until Shen Yuan was forced to his knees with a painful thud. “Shen Jiu!”

“You will marry him and that’s final.” He sneered down at him. “Not another word.”

Shen Yuan bared his teeth in reply.

___

The room was doused in draping red fabric; the sheer curtains hanging off the bed, the vibrant tapestries hugging the walls, the gold-gilded robes tied tight around their bodies.

Shen Jiu stared Shen Yuan down, standing over the new groom as the other sat on the bed.

“Well?” Shen Yuan raised a brow, his haughty expression creased with the very real anxiety of the expectations placed on his wedding night. “Give me the key.”

Shen Jiu raised his own brow, their faces mirroring each other as they were wont to do. 

“Were you expecting that all night, didi?”

Shen Yuan’s face, expectantly, twisted in a scowl.

“Then give the key to Qi-ge.”

The aforementioned other groom perched precariously on the edge of a wooden chair in the corner like an unwanted child, scared of being seen in fear of being sent away for the crime of existing.

An accurate enough description.

Shen Jiu scoffed in astonished amusement.

“He is my husband now, er-ge. Just as you wanted.” His lip curled at the end, his words practically spitting. “So it is only fair that my husband gets the key.”

Shen Jiu hummed, pretending to consider the words.

“Jiu-ge.”

“I’m considering, didi.”

“No you’re not.” Shen Yuan stood abruptly, face pinched in irritation. “You never once considered giving him the key because this is just about you being able to control us.”

Shen Jiu looked coolly back at him.

“Sit.”

Shen Yuan collapsed back on the bed, eyes narrowed in a glare even as he listened. 

“Remove your clothes.” He turned his head to look at the man across the room with chilly indifference. “Qi-ge come take them so they don’t get wrinkled.”

Yue Qingyuan clambered to his feet, the chair knocking back and forth with the force, though he stood frozen as soon as he found himself standing.

“Come here.” Shen Jiu snapped impatiently. “Don’t drag your feet.”

Shen Yuan pulled at his robes with spiteful aggression, the fabric screaming in tension as he ripped them from his body. They hung sadly off his frame before he abandoned them to tug at his headdress.

Shen Jiu rolled his eyes at the display, but grabbed the robes wordlessly and pulled the man to his feet to better drag the layers off his brother. He tossed each of them at Yue Qingyuan who caught them with fearful care.

When he was finally bare of even his inner robes, Shen Yuan stared back at his brother with feigned aloofness. 

Shen Jiu took the image in with a critical eye.

It goes without saying that a man who was his copy would look beautiful. Shen Jiu knew his strengths and his appearance was one of his best traits.

A long, slim body with just the right amount of toned muscle to give shape while still leaving a soft belly and thighs. Perfect, unblemished skin that shone under direct light with the blue of their veins giving the illusion of an almost unnatural beauty. Dark hair that reached his waist, brushed to a brilliant sheen and free of dead ends.

One could not look at them and see starving orphans. 

Shen Jiu reached out to tap the cock cage that Shen Yuan seemed to incessantly bring attention to.

Shen Jiu couldn’t remember what age they were when he had forced his brother to cage himself, keeping the key to ensure the other man couldn’t unlock it without him. It was in those long years on the run, when they got their hands on an assortment of curious things from their master’s thievery. 

Shen Jiu remembered it fondly for many reasons, the biggest being how little Shen Yuan fought him on it. His brother’s jaw had tensed for a moment before he nodded in agreement.

The euphoria that had built in his chest almost knocked him down. His hands had trembled as he got to his knees, his brother’s hands holding up his own robes so Shen Jiu could pull his pants down and slip the device on him.

He had just as quickly taken it off to suck him down his throat.

Shen Jiu pressed his brother back against the bed, leaning over his prone form, excitement from the memory alone almost too much to bear. He pressed his lips against Shen Yuan’s lips in something soft and slow; too kind for either of them but which he couldn’t resist taking all the same. 

Shen Yuan let out a breath against his mouth and Shen Jiu would be a fool not to take advantage. His tongue slid inside and Shen Yuan moaned immediately, as he did every time without fail. 

Shen Jiu’s hands roamed incessantly over the offered skin. Fingers dug into the dips of ribs, into the soft flesh of a waist, into the sensitive areas where leg met hip. And Shen Yuan opened like a flower too used to the comfort of the bee to fear the stinger.

Fingers wrapped around the caged cock and Shen Yuan jolted, his own fingers grasping at Shen Jiu’s robes.

“Key?” He gasped against his brother’s lips. “Take it off.”

“So demanding.”

“It’s my wedding night,” Shen Yuan groused, teeth scraping against Shen Jiu’s chin.

“And yet your new husband is being particularly useless.” Shen Jiu shot a pointed look at the man watching them intensely from the edge of the bed. “Go put those robes away. Neatly.”

Shen Yuan’s mouth wandered down his throat, tongue lapping against his pulse point. Shen Jiu turned back to him, bringing their mouths back together in a kiss that was neither slow nor sweet. It was possessive, plain and simple.

Shen Jiu hated how easy he was to understand when it came to his brother.

He wanted to control him in every way possible. Down to when he slept, what he ate, where he could wander without him. In all the years since they’d hit puberty, Shen Jiu hadn’t let his brother cum without his permission once. The amount of times his brother had crawled to him, begging in that rancorous voice for release, and yet not once had he asked to be freed from him. Not once had he strayed further than Shen Jiu could reach him.

“Er-ge,” Shen Yuan murmured against his lips, arms thrown around his neck to draw him closer. “You really won’t make me have sex with da-ge right?” 

So easy to understand.

“Did you doubt me?” He asked, fingers reaching lower past the cage to press against his furrowed hole. His searching fingers pressed in easily. Too easily. Shen Jiu stilled, pulling back to look at his brother. “Did you really think I’d let anyone else touch you?”

Shen Yuan turned his head away, eyes squinting in embarrassment as he refused to look at the other.

Shen Jiu threw a scathing look at Yue Qingyuan despite knowing it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he flipped his brother on his stomach, ignoring Shen Yuan’s affronted cry. “You’re both mine, but you’re not each other’s. You’ll never be more than brothers.”

“You’re really not helping your case, er-ge.” Shen Jiu could hear his eye roll in the reply. “Making your brothers marry and then assaulting one of them.”

“‘Assault’.” Shen Jiu scoffed, leaning down to kiss up the man’s spine. “You’ve never turned away from my advances.”

Shen Yuan hummed low in his throat, relaxing into the bed. 

“And if I said I didn’t want to do this?” He asked with a feigned casualness. “If I said I wanted to be da-ge’s real groom? That I wanted you to take off the cage and never touch me again?” 

Shen Jiu felt the skin beneath his nails give as he dug them inadvertently into the skin he gripped tight. Shen Yuan hissed, but he didn’t look away from where he turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. Shen Jiu’s jaw flexed as he stared back at his brother.

“What would you do if I really did have Qi-ge fuck you on your wedding bed?” He asked instead, the words nearly spat between his teeth in his irritation.

Shen Yuan grimaced, turning his face away finally.

“I would have accepted it.” 

Shen Jiu looked down at his brother. His tense back, his hunched shoulders, his fists clenched tight. 

He loosened his grip, rubbing the trickle of blood into the skin beneath his hands as he leaned over the other man until he covered him completely. He placed a soft kiss on Shen Yuan’s red ear, pulling open his own robes and drawing his pants low so he could press against the already prepared hole.

“Then you continue to be a better man than me, didi. Because I would have killed Qi-ge and trapped you inside the bamboo house, never letting you take another step outside again if you dared to say such a disgusting thing to me.” 

Shen Jiu was close enough to hear the breath catch in his brother’s throat at the words, to feel the way his body tried to close up as he pressed inside. Shen Yuan raised a hand to tangle in his hair, pulling his head down so their mouths could breathe the same air.

“You’re too cruel,” he sobbed against Shen Jiu’s lips. “Take off the cage.”

Shen Jiu let out a sharp laugh as he pulled away to hike his brother’s hips up, drawing his hips back so he could slam them forward. The snap of their skin was nearly drowned out by Shen Yuan’s cry. His brother dug the nails of one of his hands into Shen Jiu’s leg as the other twisted in the sheet. A keening sound jumped out of his throat every time Shen Jiu slammed back into him, his body curling in on itself.

“Don’t be like that,” Shen Jiu tutted, wrapping an arm around his brother’s chest to jerk him up, moulding his front to the other man’s back. “Be good and I’ll let you come. Move your hips, you know what I like.”

Shen Yuan’s next sob sounded more angry than anything, his waist undulating as he fucked himself back on Shen Jiu’s dick. Shen Jiu’s knees were bracketing his brother’s, so Shen Yuan used them as leverage to drive his hips backwards, only pulling his hands away from the other’s knees every now and then to smack at the hands pinching his thighs. 

Shen Jiu cupped one of Shen Yuan’s pecs, rubbing the palm of his hand harshly against his nipple while his other hand groped unheeded against his brother’s waist. Every time he pressed hard enough, Shen Yuan tightened with a whiny groan. A fist knocked against his leg whenever he did it at the same time he nailed his prostate.

It was a familiar back and forth with Shen Yuan. Shen Jiu knew every action to get a specific reaction and every spot to press to get a particular sound. His brother’s body was a well known and much used instrument - one of the many arts he excelled at from hours of practice. He’d plucked Shen Yuan’s strings as often as a guqin and brushed his skin as often as a canvas. There wasn’t a person in existence who knew - could ever know - his brother’s body as well as him. 

Of course, it went both ways. Unlike a pipa, it was a two way road - Shen Yuan spent just as much time practicing on him.

“I want to turn around.” Shen Yuan whined, his hands gripping Shen Jiu’s wrists. “I want to see your face.”

“So narcissistic,” Shen Jiu pulled out all the same, turning his brother around so he could sit in his lap. “Satisfied?”

Shen Yuan nodded, eyes half lidded as he reached behind him to line Shen Jiu’s dick back up with his hole. He slid down slowly, his thighs trembling beneath Shen Jiu’s hands. Their eyes stayed locked, both unblinking, until Shen Yuan’s ass met Shen Jiu’s lap and Shen Jiu looked down at the caged cock straining painfully in front of him. His hands rubbed Shen Yuan’s thighs, moving closer to the inside until he could force his brother’s leg apart and see where they connected. 

Arms wrapped around Shen Jiu’s neck as Shen Yuan started grinding down on him. Lips found their way to his jaw and neck and ear, breath coming harsher as Shen Yuan started to move faster. Fingers glided through his hair as Shen Yuan’s tongue laved over his lobe, his front molding with Shen Jiu’s despite how painful it must have been for his caged cock. 

“Jiu-ge,” his voice was quiet, strained with both need and fatigue. Fingers tightened in his hair, hips raising and falling in his lap. “Husband.”

For a moment, the word was meaningless. Merely sound amongst a cacophony of other noises. Then it penetrated into Shen Jiu’s brain like a bolt of lightning. A heavenly tribulation.

“You wished it had been you bowing before the heavens. You sharing a cup.” Shen Yuan’s arms were vice-like, pulling Shen Jiu so close they had to have finally melded back into one being. “You were green with it, er-ge.”

Shen Jiu tore himself away, forcing his brother back down on the bed with a hand around his throat like he could strong arm the words back inside. 

“It’s too bad: no one blinks an eye if Qi-ge takes one of us, but the heavens would riot if we were to elope. Aren’t we all brothers? Is it so different that our blood is the same?” Shen Jiu found himself pressing back inside without thinking, the slide of his cock so easy, so familiar. “You should have done it, er-ge. Should have taken da-ge’s place-“

“And taken you right there, in front of everyone.” Shen Jiu snapped, cutting the other off. “Of course I thought of it. Of course I wanted it. Don’t be a bitch. You’re lucky I don’t just castrate everyone that looks at you. I provided an excuse so that no one would dare covet you and here you are throwing it in my face.”

Shen Yuan’s hands framed his face, pulling him down into another slow kiss. 

“You did so well, gege.” He murmured against Shen Jiu’s lips. “I still don't like it, but I recognize how hard this all is for you. How much you struggle not to let yourself rot with your feelings.”

Just like that, wrapped entirely around Shen Yuan’s fingers. A puppet dancing on one of his many strings. 

Shen Jiu moved his hips instead of letting the thoughts run rampant. He fucked down into his brother’s body with the full intention of forcing their flesh to melt into one, to go back to those idyllic moments when they were a single being instead of two rotting corpses bringing nothing but agony wherever they went.

Perhaps they’d have been a decent person, instead of two warped creatures.

His fingers fumbled for the key in his sleeves, unlocking Shen Yuan’s cage and fisting his cock. He stripped him in time to his own thrusts, foreheads pressing together as they watched each other come undone. Who knows whether it was the pleasure itself or the vision of the other that pushed them both over.

___

Yue Qingyuan clenched his robes in his fists as he sat rimrod straight in the chair. 

The two bodies collapsed together on the bed, both heaving for breath and sweating. They nuzzled against each other, lips pressing unhurried against cheeks and chins and hair as they came down from their passion. 

It must have been the creak of the chair, or just the heaviness of his gaze that brought those identical eyes to flash towards him. Yue Qingyuan jumped under those eyes, sweat beading on his brow and upper lip.

Shen Jiu stretched lazily back to his knees, like an untempered cat, turning to lounge on the bed. Shen Yuan, as usual, followed suit. 

The two watched him with intense disinterest.

“Well?” Shen Jiu started.

“Isn’t da-ge going to fix his problem?” 

Yue Qingyuan blinked, uncomprehending for a moment before he looked down, becoming aware of his arousal. He swallowed nervously, looking back up at the twins.

“Sorry…” he stood, hands covering himself as he moved to the door.

“Who said you could leave?” Shen Jiu called, halting his escape. “It’s your wedding night.”

Shen Jiu tilted his head in a predatory movement, leaning back on his hands as he stared the taller man down.

“It’s the only one you’ll ever get. The only pleasure you’ll ever get.” He jerked his chin up in a command for Yue Qingyuan to go back to the chair. “This is the closest you’ll ever be to another person again, Qi-ge. Of course you’ll never cheat on your husband and of course you’ll never touch my brother with your filthy hands.”

“Of course,” Yue Qingyuan swallowed, his throat clicking from dryness as he lumbered back to his seat. “I’d never dishonor didi.” 

Shen Jiu hummed lowly, eyes watching him as a cat would a mouse.

“Go ahead, Qi-ge,” he said silkily. “Take care of yourself.”

“Here?” His voice came out suspiciously squeaky. “Let me go relieve myself in the bathroom.”

He hesitated for a moment before adding: “Please.”

“But da-ge,” Shen Yuan called, sitting up in the bed. “This husband hasn’t even had the chance to see you.”

Yue Qingyuan closed his eyes, sensing his upcoming doom.

“Alright,” his voice was raspy and hoarse. 

Yue Qingyuan took off the outer layers of his robes, carefully putting them away with Shen Yuan’s own wedding robes before taking his seat in just his inner clothes. 

The twins were watching him from the bed, both leaning forward in undisguised interest. Yue Qingyuan felt his face redden, hands fumbling as he revealed himself. He peaked at them, hurriedly lowering his eyes at the surprise and mild disgust that met him.

“Truly unnecessarily big,” Shen Jiu sneered.

“It’s proportionate to the rest of him.” Shen Yuan pointed out. “It’s be silly looking if it was small.”

“It would match the man better.”

Shen Yuan only hummed disinterestedly in reply to that, which honestly made Yue Qingyuan feel worse than the comment itself.

“Go on.” Shen Jiu ordered.

Yue Qingyuan’s hand fell immediately to grip himself, his cock still rock hard and leaking despite (or because of) the verbal abuse. He moved his hand with measured movements, the action familiar even if the situation wasn’t. He kept his eyes lowered, unable to look at the pair.

The smacking of lips forced his eyes up and he was arrested by the two men watching him as they kissed lazily. From the humor in Shen Yuan’s eyes, he guessed the purpose was to make him look and he fell hook line and sinker. 

His hand sped up inadvertently at the image before him and he could see the spark of interest in Shen Yuan’s eyes. A sign that was never good. 

The two got more heavy handed with each other, fingers rubbing come into skin, tongues meeting midair. All the while, they never looked away from him.

It was clear they found enjoyment from seeing his excitement at their play, but it didn’t matter (or mattered too much) to Yue Qingyuan who felt his hand fly faster, his other hand pressing down on the head of his dick just the way he liked it.

Shen Yuan leaned forward to whisper something in his brother’s ear and Shen Jiu’s answering jeer sent him hurling over the edge.

He came suddenly and without forewarning in an orgasm that only felt pleasurable in its end. His body trembled with the aftershocks, muscles jumping and hands shaking. 

The twins stared at him a moment longer before turning away, falling back into each other and once more forgetting that he existed.

Yue Qingyuan’s dick twitched, already starting to harden once more.

Chapter Text

“Shizun,” Soft, doe-eyes stared up at him beseechingly through thick, dark lashes. “This disciple brought dinner.”

Shen Qingqiu looked away, eyes focusing on the far wall as if doing so would make the apparition disappear. 

Of course, that did not happen. 

Luo Binghe - Bingge, the Heavenly Demonic Emperor, the husband to a thousand wives, the merger of realms, the bloodthirsty, blackened lotus - was dressed in a Qing Jing disciple uniform. His features were softened by the pale green and white robes, but nothing could quite hide the bulk of a man who’d killed hundreds, who’d burned down his natal sect, who’d torn his Shizun limb from limb.

“Shizun, is it not to your taste?” Luo Binghe pushed the tray closer, kneeling submissively at his side as if Shen Qingqiu could not feel the whispers of his demonic energy brushing against his skin. “This disciple can remake it.”

Shen Qingqiu swallowed dryly, fingers twitching as his arm raised without his command to grab the chopsticks on the tray. Luo Binghe’s eyes watched him intently as a bite was raised to his lips.

“Is it good, Shizun?” His voice was deep - too deep for the boy he was playing at. 

It was probably good. Shen Qingqiu knew in the back of his mind that the flavors were immaculate, the textures harmonious. It was perfection down to the very last grain of rice. It was utterly tasteless on his tongue. More akin to ashes and sludge than the fine meal presented before him.

Shen Qingqiu missed his husband.

Another bite presented against his lips, his jaw working to chew, his throat working to swallow. A mechanical motion pressed on by the blood parasites running rampant through his body.

Too soon the meal was done and Shen Qingqiu was once more alleviated from his puppetry. Luo Binghe waited, prim and proper. The disciple he never got the chance to be.

“Well? Did you like it?” He asked again, his voice tainted with a faint hint of impatience.

“It was very good…Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu finally answered, wrestling his tongue away from the parasites that were starting to gather in his mouth. “This master is tired. I’d like to go to bed.”

Binghe tilted his head, his luscious hair trailing over his shoulder as he stared unblinkingly at him.

“Don’t you want a cup of tea first, Shizun?” He asked it as a question, but from the way he was gathering up the tray and standing, he didn’t need an answer. “This disciple will get you one.”

“There’s no need, Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu tried to call out, but the words jumbled and fell flat, completely ignored by the other man who left the room in a flurry of pale fabric.

Shen Qingqiu was uncomfortable. No. That was an understatement. Shen Qingqiu was feeling utter, unbearable dread. 

The fight between his husband and the original Luo Binghe had ended with the fearful protagonist seemingly absconding through a portal back to his own realm. 

Which was great.

Except he hadn’t left. He had portaled behind Shen Qingqiu, grabbed him, and then absconded back to his own realm. 

The nerve!

Truly the main character of a male power fantasy series - he always had to have the last laugh.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know how long it would take his husband to find him. Surely he would - Shen Qingqiu had no doubt of that. Like a dog to a bone, that child really couldn’t let him go.

The world of PIDW was exactly as Shen Qingqiu had imagined it. The red sky and cracked earth, the humans and demons who shunned each other but had no choice but to coexist as their lands were literally smushed together.

It was a beautiful world, truly. But one colorful in a way a festering wound is.

Luo Binghe had dragged him back to his palace and barred him inside a room.

It was a nice room, all things considered. A large, soft bed, a low table for work, a bookcase with a scattering of books. Slowly, over the last few days, things had been added to Shen Qingqiu’s preferences, though he had no say in the matter. The bed was piled with more pillows, the table was supplied with writing utensils, the bookcase filled out with bestiary texts.

It was unsettling how quickly Luo Bingge worked to align the room with what he saw in the bamboo house.

It was as comfortable as a cage could be. He had tried the door and searched for any hidden nook he could squeeze through, but the room had only one entrance and no windows. Not even a loose floorboard. 

All Shen Qingqiu could do was sit and wait for his husband to come find him. 

Ah, the life of a wife.

He was coddled even in captivity. 

Luo Bingge brought him every meal and hand delivered a tub for him every night. He was a pampered bird, but he could not help but to fear his wings being clipped. This was the same man who had ripped his limbs off upon their first meeting. A man who had tortured his mirror image to death.

Bingge returned with the tea, a servant slipping in quietly to set his tub down. A talisman filled and heated the tub up, letting a gentle steam emit from the fresh water as the servant left as quickly as they appeared. 

Shen Qingqiu tried to strain his neck to look after them, but the door was blocked by Luo Binghe’s bulk. 

The man leaned with him to block his view further and Shen Qingqiu gave up before he embarrassed himself even more.

“This disciple brought you tea and a bath, Shizun.” He set the new tray down, rearranging the cup and pot on the table before pouring him out some.

Shen Qingqiu knew that this man was a master manipulator - hell, the man he married was one as well - so he took notice of the tremble in the man’s hands with trepidation. He expected a lapful (or faceful) of scalding tea, but when nothing came from the display of weakness, he grew even more anxious.

“What is this?”

Luo Binghe blinked at him, looking at the cup before them with a raised brow. 

“A cup of tea before bed?” He asked with a lilt of disobedience. “Unless you do not take tea before sleeping. I have been remiss in not bringing you a late night cup.”

“What’s in it.” Shen Qingqiu pointed to the cup, not backing down. “You haven’t served me any tea yet and I’ve been here for days. You’re playing at nervousness but I don’t-“

Shen Qingqiu cut himself off as Luo Binghe’s face shuttered close.

“I am not nervous.”

No more “this disciple.” Not even a “this one.” Ah, he was actually upset. 

Shen Qingqiu picked up the cup without thinking, taking a sip as he would have if it had been his husband who was acting this way and not a megalomaniac. 

Damn.

The taste was…good. The flavor was strong but not overpowering. A good herbal blend that would promote rest. He couldn’t detect any irregularities.

Shen Qingqiu frowned.

“Is it good?” Luo Binghe sounded tense, unsure. 

He set the cup down, peering into it was some amount of confusion. He raised the cup again, taking another swallow before once more placing it on the table.

“It’s very good.” He admitted.

Luo Binghe’s shoulder relaxed with such an obvious show of relief that Shen Qingqiu doubted his assessment of the tea again.

It was almost like-

I was almost like Luo Binghe was nervous that the tea he was serving to his master wasn’t good enough.

Shen Qingqiu felt his jaw clench, but he didn’t know who to direct the anger at. A dead man? The man before him? Himself?

It was so obvious in hindsight that he felt like he should be stripped of his title as Qing Jing Peak Lord for his lapse of intelligence.

“You did well, Binghe.” He emphasized. 

The Emperor folded in on himself, his eyes red in agitation at his own relief but a blush set high and proud on his cheeks. 

How could he possibly hate this man?!

“Shizun,” he demurred, eyes too sharp to not be a little bit calculating, but Shen Qingqiu chose to ignore it.  

Binghe bent low beside him, laying down on his side and stretching out on the floor in a way most unbecoming of an emperor as he placed his head stiffly in Shen Qingqiu’s lap.

The man sent an almost smug look up at him, eyes half lidded between contentedness and a smolder. 

The utter nerve to take a mile as soon as you gave a hint of acknowledgment. 

Had he done this for one of his wives? 

Yes. Of course. Many times. 

Ah, Binghe. 

There is so little you can do that you have not already done with another woman. Especially not something that Shen Qingqiu wasn’t aware of. 

He knew this man’s life inside and out. He knew how long he cried when his mother died, how long it took for the scratches on his hands to heal after he buried her. He knew how many aching hours it took him to trek to Cang Qiong and how numb his feet were after he climbed those ridiculous steps. He knew how much he despaired when Shen Qingqiu dumped his cup of tea on him. It wasn’t even the heat, the physical pain that crushed him. It was the knowledge that he’d never be accepted on Qing Jing Peak. That he had only traded one hell for another.

Of course, all that said. It was definitely working. Perhaps because of his extraordinary knowledge of the man cuddled up in his lap.

Shen Qingqiu carded his hand through Luo Binghe’s hair. 

It was soft, smooth. Hair that was well taken care of. Hair that was washed and oiled and brushed with reverence. How many years did it take to repair the damaged ends? To heal the trauma from brimfire? 

That was the long and short of it, wasn’t it?

Shen Qingqiu did love this Luo Binghe.

He always had.

How could he not? His heart had shattered with him, had soared with him. Who knew this boy better than him? Who could care for him at his weakest? His strongest? His most volatile?

He traced a finger around a pointed ear, comparing it to his husband but also to that child who knew no softness after his mother’s death. 

Shen Qingqiu touched a small scar on Binghe’s neck - it extended from his back where even his own Binghe was littered with the evidence of a Shen Qingqiu less enamored. 

His lips touched it without a thought, so used to trying to soothe the pain he hadn’t really placed, but felt responsible for all the same.

Luo Binghe jolted in his lap, body tensing. 

Shen Qingqiu stilled as well, but when no immediate rebuttal happened, he pressed another kiss. Smoothing one hand through that familiar hair, he pressed the other one to Luo Binghe’s forehead, palm flat against the demon mark there. 

The pity he felt for this man was unreal. So strong, so overpowering, and yet so pitiful. A child looking for love from anyone that would give it to him. A hated child who grew up too beautiful, too influential to be ignored and yet too high above everyone else to be loved for anything but that beauty, that influence. 

Shen Qingqiu loved that child. That pathetic thing floating down a chilly, half-frozen river. Who scrubbed at clothes too fine for him until his hands blistered. Who watched his mother perish because no one cared if they died. 

He turned the feared demon emperor in his lap, so he could gaze down at his pretty face. He placed a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead.

“Binghe, it’s time for bed. Let’s get you ready for a bath, okay?” 

The man stared up at him, uncomprehending for a moment before he gave a small, unsure nod of his head. 

If there was one regret (okay there were quite a few but ignoring that) it was that Shen Qingqiu never got to baby the baby protagonist. 

His boy had been fourteen when he finally got him away from that wretched teacher. Still young, but that one image of his Binghe doused in tea, that one image of a bunch of kids in the street stomping on him, that one image of him crying before his mother’s corpse - those images stayed in the back of his mind always. A regret he could never erase. 

If only he had been earlier, if only he had died sooner.

Luo Binghe stripped with some hesitance, looking back at Shen Qingqiu like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

Shen Qingqiu, in turn, pretended that everything was completely normal. 

He pulled the bathing supplies closer, dipping a cloth into the water as he waited for the man to get inside. Luo Binghe did so slowly, but finally he was submerged up to his chest.

Shen Qingqiu used one of his hands to cup water over the man to soak him, the other rubbing soothingly into his back. Luo Binghe closed his eyes tight as the water poured over his head, wiping at the excess to get it off his face. 

“There you go, let’s get you all cleaned up. You’re being such a good boy for Shizun.” He kept his voice light, gentle as he finally deemed the man’s hair wet enough to start washing. 

Despite the mountain of hair, Shen Qingqiu was probably the most experienced person in the world in terms of caring for Binghe’s appearance. He had bathed, oiled, straightened, and primped his husband before he even called him his lover.

“We’ll let your hair soak in the conditioner while we wash your body. What soap do you want to use? The sweet one or the spicy one?” He held up two different bath beads, letting Binghe choose. 

“…sweet.” Binghe relented when Shen Qingqiu refused to continue until he answered. “Won’t Shizun bathe with me?”

“The tub isn’t big enough.” He immediately refuted, lathering the sweet-smelling soap up. “We’ll get too cramped in there and then it’ll be too hard to clean you.”

Binghe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t fight him on it.

“Good boy, thank you for listening and trusting Shizun to care for you.” 

Binghe shuddered beneath his hands, though Shen Qingqiu didn’t know if it was from the words or the feel of him pressing the soap into his bare skin. 

Shen Qingqiu worked slow and methodical as he washed the other man, being diligent and careful to get every nook and cranny. Binghe made brief noises of complaint when he rubbed between his asscrack or put his fingers between each of his toes, but he otherwise stayed pliant. 

When the last section to clean was his genitals, Shen Qingqiu paused to stare down at the raging erection.

“That’s not good.” He chastised. “How are you going to get clean if your jiji makes you dirty again? You’ll have to make it go down before we can finish cleaning you.”

Luo Binghe looked up at him with an expression halfway between hurt and excited. 

“Is Shizun going to help me?” He asked expectantly. 

“Of course not, that’s inappropriate.”

Luo Binghe stared at him for a moment, utterly gobsmacked by the mental gymnastics the other man must have been going through.

Little did he know that Shen Qingqiu was a gold medalist in mental gymnastics.

“Then…?” Binghe grabbed his dick, giving it one slow run before Shen Qingqiu slapped his wrist.

“Bad boy!” He hissed. “Little boys are not to touch their privates like that! You only touch it to pee and to clean.”

Luo Binghe’s jaw dropped before his expression twisted in distress. 

“Then how am I supposed to make it go down, Shizun? If you won’t touch it and I can’t touch it, then are we just going to wait for it to go down? It won’t!”

“I know it won’t.” Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. “Binghe touches it too much so it doesn’t listen. You’ll have to make it go down without touching it.”

Shen Qingqiu started to rinse Binghe off as he talked, letting the soapy water run down the other man’s body.

“Luckily Binghe has the ability to relieve himself without using his hands.”

He looked the man in the eye, looking for understanding as he wiped the suds off his skin. 

“Can Binghe do that for Shizun?”

The man’s pupils had already been dilated since the bath begun, but the black center tried its hardest to push even further outward until just the faintest hint of red encircled it. 

Shen Qingqiu’s hands rubbed soothingly against his neck and jaw, thumb swiping at the mixture of water and perspiration gathered there. He licked his lips distractedly as he glanced down at the twitching cock between Binghe’s thighs. 

“Shizun knows you can do it.” He murmured, more a whisper than before. “Binghe is such a good boy, such a pretty little boy for Shizun.”

Binghe took gasping breaths as he stared back at him, his chest heaving under the heat of the bath and the heat of Shen Qingqiu’s words and stare. He grunted, his dick letting out a thick trickle of precum that dripped down into the murky water.

“Very good, you’re so close, Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu encouraged further, his hands sliding up to cup Binghe’s jaw. “Just a little more, just let out the rest for me.”

Luo Binghe shuddered violently, wheezing as his body jolted once, then twice until finally a jet of cum shot out, reaching far enough to hit both of their faces. He gripped Shen Qingqiu’s sleeves as he shook through his orgasm, dick twitching with lesser spurts of cum as he sank back in the tub.

“Very good, Binghe. Shizun is so proud of you.” Shen Qingqiu licked at the cum on his lips, smiling proudly down at Binghe as he reached down to rub soapy hands against his still half-hard cock. “Make sure your jiji stays nice and soft for me, okay?”

Luo Binghe gave a quivering shake of his head.

“Don’t be like that, Binghe. You can do it.”

___

Shen Qingqiu woke up in his bed on Qing Jing Peak with a lapful of crying protagonist. His husband cycled between clutching in tightly and cursing at the original goods.

The relief that ran through his frame was only lightly darkened by the disappointment. 

It was okay, though. 

Even if Bingge had run from him this time, leaving him back in his home realm to lick to wounds of his mortification, sooner or later, he’d be back.

And then Shen Qingqiu could shower both of his boys with the affection they deserved.

Chapter Text

“I’ve never even written a sci-fi book! I stuck to fantasy only! I don’t know anything about aliens!”

Shen Yuan ignored the man’s whimpering, focusing more on feeling out the walls of the room they were trapped in. There were no seams - no discernible doors or keypads to try and hack, not even a doggie door for food trays. The walls were a sterile white that seemed to glow faintly, providing the only light. Surprisingly, it was reasonably bright and Shen Yuan could see clearly that he and the other man were the only occupants inside. 

He banged a fist cautiously against the wall and waited for any reply. 

Nothing came of it. No answering knock from other captives in unseen rooms nor any alien coming to check if they were misbehaving. Though it didn’t rule out that hidden cameras could be checking in on them.

Shen Yuan frowned.

“Even if you did write sci-fi, I can guarantee that you’d still be useless, Airplane.” Shen Yuan turned back towards the other man, but kept his gaze firmly locked far above where he crouched on the ground. “It’d be just as contrived and full of useless sex as your other works.”

Though, in all honesty, they seemed to be smack dab in the middle of a situation befitting Shang Qinghua’s writing. 

Abducted after a night of drunk ramblings, both Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua were inexplicably naked. If it wasn’t for the fact that Shen Yuan could distinctly remember being beamed up into a hovering spacecraft, he’d think they were in some strange new drunk tank after an apparent intoxicated streaking endeavor. 

“I don’t know, man, I definitely feel like we’re about to be anal probed.” Shang Qinghua sniffed. “Or what if we become pets for giant space monsters?! I can’t sing! I’ll get culled immediately!”

Shen Yuan rolled his eyes and went back to fruitlessly trying to pry open the smooth walls with his nails. 

After waiting for what felt like hours to two chronically online losers, an alien finally appeared.

It rose from the ground as if it was a part of the very structure, though its form wasn’t attached, allowing it to move smoothly around them without disrupting the floor.

“Oh wow,” Shang Qinghua breathed. “High tech robo-alien.”

Shen Yuan felt his eye twitch in irritation despite the circumstances. 

It did in fact look like a high tech android (presumably from space). It was standing at 7 feet easy with a smooth, shiny white body that somehow looked metallic, though Shen Yuan could not think of any metal it could possibly be. It seemed to be robed in a long flowing garment that was identical in substance to the rest of its body with a black, screen-like face and five-finger hands that ended in deadly sharp points. 

The three stood, studying each other before bright blue texts appeared on the faceplate.

“Welcome, users! This system greets 001 and 002 to the motherboard! All functions other than energy restoration are currently on standby mode until full power is met. This is a recorded message!”

“Oh, come off it.” Shen Yuan immediately cursed. 

“Hello to you too,” Shang Qinghua cautiously greeted back. “Um, can you send us home please?”

The system stared back at them for far too long, leaving an uncomfortable silence to permeate the room.

“Emergency stop off in progress! Welcome, users! Please assist in power restoration to access the full system!”

“And how do we do that?” Shen Yuan crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at the towering figure doubtfully. 

“Power can be restored through - checking location variables…calculating universe levels…configuring space confinements…sexual energy! Please assist in power restoration to access the full system!”

Shen Yuan turned accusatory eyes on his fellow captive, not even caring about his nudity when it was obvious they were being punished through the greater galaxies for Shang Qinghua’s crimes against literature. 

“Do what you will to him.” Shen Yuan pointed at the other man. “He’d be happy to assist in your debauchery.”

“Cucumber-bro!” Shang Qinghua sniveled, throwing himself at Shen Yuan bodily, grasping pitifully at his waist. “It’s not my fault! I told you I don’t write sci-fi!”

“Get off!” Shen Yuan kicked the other man away with extreme prejudice. “Go fix this! Obviously your horniness permeated throughout the universe!”

“User 001 will be used as port A!” The alien moved closer to the two, the words continuously scrolling across its face. 

It grabbed at Shang Qinghua. The man screamed, hands reaching out to Shen Yuan who watched him with no remorse. The alien rubbed its hands over his shaking body, stopping at his chest before a soft snick sound erupted from its palms and Shang Qinghua gave a startled shout.  It pulled its hands away, showing that the trembling author’s nipples were now clamped. 

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua breathed, tugging lightly at the metal clamps with a wince. “Hey, this is a little kinky.”

“We’re on an alien spaceship tasked with using sexual energy to power it up and the nipple clamps are where you get sidetracked?”

Shang Qinghua shrugged, yanking on them again with a frown. 

“User 002 will be used as Slot B!”

Shen Yuan stumbled back as the alien rounded on him, lifting his hands as if to ward it off.

“What’s port and slot mean?” He asked, evading the clawed hands trying to grab him.

“Port will be used as the grounding and slot will be used as the supply! Please stand still so that this system can prepare you!”

“Prepare?!” Shen Yuan dove away from the alien, only to be caught by its arms stretching unnaturally. “Hold on!” 

The alien ran its hands over his body before its hands reached between his legs, sharp claws brushing against his hole.

Shen Yuan kicked out instinctively.

He met the floor with a thud, scrambling against the ground as he tried to get out of reach of the alien. The floor wobbled under his hands before he suddenly shot up on top of a newly-formed table. 

He wobbled uncertainly before collapsing as straps sprang out to tie him down. Flipped over in his back, the straps pulled his hands to rest by his head and lifted his legs up as if they were in stirrups in a gynecologist office.

“Now just wait a moment!” He yelled, struggling against the straps. “This isn’t fair!”

“Cucumber, please, why are you making this harder! Don’t you want to go home?” Shang Qinghua clasped his hands together, trembling because he always seemed to be doing that.

“Easy for you to say! I’m the slot! I refuse to have something shoved up my ass! I’m not gay!”

“Of course not!” Shang Qinghua simpered, rubbing his hands together in anxiety. “But we’re kind of stuck in a spaceship! With no way out! I don’t want to stick it in you anymore than you want me to, bro, come on!”

“You’re only saying that because you know I’ll kill you when we get back!” 

Shang Qinghua wisely kept his mouth shut, head bowed in submission as he shook and sweated before his immobile form. 

“Thanking users 001 and 002 for their cooperation-“

“Fuck you!”

“This system will now enter energy saving mode and communication functions will cease until full power is restored!”

The faceplate went blank once more, leaving the hulking form of the alien’s body. It moved towards Shang Qinghua, pushing him to stand between Shen Yuan’s legs until their bodies were pressed together. It reached to touch Shang Qinghua’s nipple clamps, giving both a sharp tug that made the man cry out. 

“They’re vibrating!” He cupped his own chest, eyes teary. “And they’re getting hot!”

Being strapped down with his legs spread wide was embarrassing enough, but to have a sweaty, crying Shang Qinghua shoved between his thighs was somehow worse. The man was trembling and dripping with various bodily fluids as he pressed his soft dick ineffectually at Shen Yuan’s hole.

“Get yourself together.” He hissed, angry tears pricking at his eyes. “You’re not even the one about to be penetrated! Man up!”

“Cucumber-bro! This is harder than it looks, these clamps feel like they’re cutting off my nipples!”

If his legs weren’t currently strapped to the metal contraption, he would have kicked the other man. He bared his teeth and tried to raise his hips to get a better angle.

“You’re just dragging this shit out! Put it in me!”

“I’m sorry! I'm sorry, bro! Really I am!” He sobbed, trying to squish his limp dick inside. “I just can’t get hard like this, it’s not my fault!”

Shen Yuan’s scowl dropped as the towering metallic alien moved closer. He watched as Shang Qinghua was lifted up and set to crouch over him, knees bracketing his hips.

“Oh fuck, what’s it doing now?” 

He got his answer when the alien slid a palm down its featureless torso and an opening appeared, allowing a metal rod to extend from its middle.

“Fuck! It’s got a dick!” Shen Yuan tried to struggle against the restraints, actions getting violent enough to send Shang Qinghua crashing into his chest. “I don’t consent! I don’t consent!”

The alien grabbed his straining thighs in his sharp clawed hands, the skin cold and hard just like an android. The rod pressed against his hole and popped inside without issue, sinking further into his body as it got close enough for their bodies to meet.

“Holy fuck,” Shen Yuan gasped, staring over Shang Qinghua prone, quivering form as he watched the alien-robot dick disappear inside him. He could feel it continue pushing its way past his walls, the metal cool and unforgiving. “I’m being fucking anal probed.”

Shang Qinghua looked over his own shoulder, sitting up cautiously as he realized he wasn’t in line of danger. 

“Damn, that’s so classic.” He whispered. “What does it feel like?”

Shen Yuan wanted to snap at him, but in all honesty he was struggling to breathe. Somewhat because Shang Qinghua’s fat ass was leaning his weight on his chest, but also because the rod inside of him was shifting in shape like mercury. It expanded softly, stretching his insides and exploring deeper than should have been natural.

The worst part was that it felt amazing.

The chill of the metal hitting his burning intestines, the stark pressure of it ballooning his channel, and the constant touch to his prostate meant his body was starting to shake with overstimulation. His own soft dick came to life, twitching and drooling as he was pleasured internally. 

“Fuck,” he wheezed. “Fuck what is this.”

His hips jolted, nearly sending Shang Qinghua flying off the table. Shang Qinghua’s hands landed on either side of his head, his face open with surprise as he stared down at Shen Yuan. 

“Is it that good?” He asked, eyes darting around his features to take in the slackjawed ecstasy. “Damn, bro, you look like a porn star right now. Really wish I had my phone on me.”

“Fuck you,” Shen Yuan gasped, his hands straining against the straps as he writhed on the table. “Oh shit! Wait!”

The alien didn’t need to draw its hips back in order for its dick to piston in and out of Shen Yuan’s body, he could feel it extending and retracting just fine though. It was moving in ways that were unnatural, twisting and vibrating in maneuvers not even sex toys could replicate.

“Uh, hey, let’s talk about this.” Shang Qinghua babbled, eyes turned to look behind him. Shen Yuan could see only his side profile, mouth gaping and face pale. “Wait wait wait-“

The man jolted above him, turning back around with a scrunched face as he hovered over Shen Yuan.

“Oh, wow, yeah, okay, I see what you mean.” He wheezed, his body jerking and twisting in discomfort. “That’s not normal.”

“Huh?” Shen Yuan craned his neck to see what was happening over Shang Qinghua’s body, mouth falling open as he saw a second protrusion disappearing into the other man’s ass. “You’re shitting me.”

Shang Qinghua whined in reply, his arms giving out so he crashed into Shen Yuan’s chest. He buried his face in Shen Yuan’s neck, squeaking in alarm as he experienced the same abnormal ministrations and unusual pleasure.

Shen Yuan opened his mouth to complain, but found his words drying up on his tongue as the physical sensations got even more intense. The rod was churning up his guts internally and Shang Qinghua was rubbing up against his front. Their cocks rutted  together with each movement and the nipple clamps brushed against his own, leaving him slackjawed and moaning in delirium. 

“It’s too much!” Shang Qinghua finally blurted out, his forehead grinding against Shen Yuan’s collarbone. “I’m going to die!”

The rod seemed to speed up its undulations at that, diving deeper inside them as it vibrated incessantly against their prostrates. Shang Qinghua’s arms wrapped selfishly around Shen Yuan’s prone form, fucking his hips down onto him to chase after his approaching orgasm, holding onto his body like it was one of his harrowing body pillows. 

Shang Qinghua came first, crying out loudly as he shuddered through waves of pleasure, twisting his hips to grate his cock against Shen Yuan’s. 

Shen Yuan but his lip to stifle his own sob, his desperation reaching its peak yet staying out of his reach as Shang Qinghua stilled his struggling. The alien’s hands gripped his thighs tighter, the hold borderline painful. 

Then the rod inside him started to expand, his walls forced apart further and further before something spilled out to flood his intestines.

“Fuck!” He screamed, body immobile and unable to escape the unending torrents. His own orgasm ripped through him, almost more aching than the inundation of fluid filling him up. 

Shang Qinghua’s attention was caught enough for the man to raise himself back onto his hands to stare down at him. From the way he wasn’t writhing in the unending pressure against his internal organs, Shen Yuan could tell he was not getting the same treatment as him.

“Fuck you!” He seethed, jaw straining as he was forced to wait out the alien’s cumming.

“Damn bro, it looks like you’re pregnant!” Shang Qinghua cried in something that was too close to delight for Shen Yuan to handle. He lurched up, taking a bite of the man’s shoulder. 

Shang Qinghua screamed and threw himself from the table.

“What the fuck dude!” 

Shen Yuan paid him no mind, looking down between his legs at the alien as it slowly pulled itself from him. The rim of his ass was surprisingly still tight, considering all the girth had only occurred internally, so none of the thick liquid escaped him as he had hoped. Despite his attack against Airplane, he did admit that he looked pregnant.

Oh god. 

Please don’t be like the sims.

He wasn’t ready for a baby! Much less one he had to carry!

“Welcome users! Full power back online!” The faceplate brightened in blue text again. “Thanking users 001 and 002 for their cooperation!”

“Send us back home!” Shen Yuan shouted in reply. “You got what you wanted, so let us go!”

The system processed the words, unreadable texts spamming over it’s screen before a smiling emoji popped up.

“Users are now a part of the motherboard as backup power. This system is looking forward to a long cohabitation!”

Shen Yuan screamed in outrage.

At least that probably meant no ass babies.

…right?

Chapter Text

The sect leader hovered like an overbearing mother. He stooped over Mu Qingfang’s shoulder to stare fretfully at the man sitting on the bed before them. 

Shen Qingqiu had once again gotten poisoned - something that was beginning to become alarmingly frequent. He’d never had the best of luck, but after his beloved disciple died during the Immortal Alliance Conference, his usually sharp mind had been fogged with grief. He’d fallen into more traps in the last six months than he had in the last six years.

Truly worrying.

“Shen-shixiong,” he began cautiously. “Do you remember what it looked like?”

Shen Qingqiu stared blankly back at him. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Yue Qingyuan murmured above him. “Shen-shidi, can you hear this shixiong?”

Mu Qingfang felt his eye start to twitch in irritation, but he waylaid it to keep his composure. 

“Zhangmen-shixiong, perhaps it would be better if you took a seat and let this shidi handle this.” He already knew the man would refuse to leave, so he didn’t bother with attempting to ask. 

The doctor picked up Shen Qingqiu’s hands without waiting for the looming giant to respond, turning his palms up to see the site of infection. A smattering of small wounds littered the skin and in some of them were tiny thorns. Mu Qingfang pulled them out to get a better look at them.

“Alright, this definitely makes it easier.” He muttered to himself. 

The thorn was distinct, coming from a plant that induced hypnosis in order to lure its prey into submission to feast on their spiritual energy. Luckily for Shen Qingqiu, Yue Qingyuan’s motherhenning meant he was rarely (if ever) alone on missions. Liu Qingge had raced back to the sect with a dead monster in one hand and Shen Qingqiu in the other.

The thorns were a match for the monster’s symbiotic flora, making a double confirmation for Mu Qingfang.

“Will he be okay?” Yue Qingyuan asked again. 

Mu Qingfang held in his sigh, turning to give a reassuring smile at the sect leader.

“Yes, the poison is a rather simple one. We just have to disrupt his spiritual energy to throw it off.”

Yue Qingyuan was sitting finally, back hunched to make himself smaller. He nodded eagerly, brows still creased in worry. 

“Good. That’s good. How will we go about doing that? His qi is already so fragile…”

Mu Qingfang nodded in agreement.

“The easiest way is to induce an orgasm strong enough to jump his qi without actively touching it itself.”

Mu Qingfang stood, walking to his supply cabinets to pull out his sounding rod. He turned back to the sect leader, showing him the device.

“This goes inside his penis to stimulate it internally while not allowing his essence to leave his body. I’ll stimulate his prostate as well, allowing for a quick and powerful orgasm.”

Yue Qingyuan stared back slackjawed, face white and drawn.

“Al-alright.” He whispered, eyes crashing between the rod and Shen Qingqiu. “Do you- can I help in some way or should I just go…”

Mu Qingfang felt a wave of both pity and satisfaction at how much the procedure was already affecting the sect leader despite it not even starting.

“If Zhangmen-shixiong is amicable, this shidi would appreciate if you cleared Shen Qingqiu’s meridians and monitored the flow of his qi while this shidi works.”

Yue Qingyuan’s face greyed but he nodded all the same.

“Of course…”

Mu Qingfang showed no hesitation as he made his way back to Shen Qingqiu, pushing the man down to lay on the cot and systematically removing his clothes. He stripped him completely, piling the clothes on the floor to be dealt with later. Considering the numerous holes and stains, he doubted the finicky peak lord would want to keep them. 

Especially since he no longer had his personal clothing washer on standby.

Yue Qingyuan made a wounded noise, but followed close behind, a trembling hand grabbing at a now bared wrist so he could start clearing his shidi’s meridians. 

The doctor pushed Shen Qingqiu’s legs apart so he could get between them. He pulled a vial of lubricant from his sleeve, dipping the rod inside it to slick it up, before taking his shixiong’s penis in his hand. 

It’d be easier to get it in once he was hard, so he poured a little more of the lube on the man’s dick before giving it a few perfunctory strokes. Once it was somewhat hard, Mu Qingfang pushed the end of the rod into Shen Qingqiu’s tip, rubbing the slit to ensure the lube was coating everything adequately. The rod slipped in with a couple of twists.

“Ah,” Yue Qingyuan started. “Shouldn’t you be a little more careful? What if you hurt him?”

Mu Qingfang glanced at the man from the corner of his eyes, the judgement enough to shut him up.

“Apologies. Of course shidi knows what he’s doing.”

Mu Qingfang inclined his head in acceptance of the apology before focusing his attention back on the patient on the bed.

Shen Qingqiu watched Yue Qingyuan dazedly, though the other man was resolutely not meeting his gaze. Mu Qingfang tugged on his cock, drawing his attention back towards him.

“Luckily he won’t remember any of this when the poison clears. I don’t think he’d show us his face for a month at least if he could.”

Yue Qingyuan whined pathetically, face falling to rest his forehead on where he was clasping Shen Qingqiu’s wrist.

“No, he would refuse everyone’s presence until he could pretend it never happened.” 

Mu Qingfang stifled a snort, gripping Shen Qingqiu’s thighs so he could bully his way between them more. Once better situated, he poured the rest of the lube on his free hand that wasn’t gripping his shixiong’s dick.

He brought his slick fingers to Shen Qingqiu’s hole, looking up to watch his face. The man stared expressionlessly back.

His finger pressed inside, the body slack and open to him. It was quick work to reach his knuckles and he cautiously pulled back to add another finger. Scissoring them, he found no resistance at all. Curiously, he added another finger and then another until just his thumb was outside.

“Absolutely no resistance at all.” He observed, fucking his four fingers inside. “You’d think he worked in a brothel with how loose he is.”

“Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan warned, looking up to frown at him. His eyes glanced down instinctively to look at where Mu Qingfang was working. He sprang up on the edge of the bed, staring at where he and Shen Qingqiu were connected. “Is that normal?”

“It is an uncommon side effect, but not unusual.” Mu Qingfang hummed considering, funneling his hand to try pushing in his thumb. It slipped in almost immediately despite offering the most resistance Mu Qingfang had encountered so far. “Perhaps Shen-shixiong’s body is just more adept at taking things analy.” 

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth opened, clearly about to rebuff him again but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the view of Mu Qingfang fisting Shen Qingqiu.

Mu Qingfang enjoyed the silence for a moment before deciding he needed to actually finish treating his patient instead of messing around. 

He removed his fist, going back to four fingers so it was easier to locate the man’s prostate. He had to use his best guess to determine if he was hitting the right spot since Shen Qingqiu wasn’t reacting to anything.

For all that his eyes were open and watching them, he might as well have been comatose for all the awareness he exhibited.

Mu Qingfang applied pressure with all four of his fingers as he jerked the man off, thumb pressing down on the tip of the rod so it didn’t try to escape with Shen Qingqiu’s orgasm. It was hard to tell if it was working, since Shen Qingqiu wasn’t giving any indication of whether he was getting close or not, but it was obvious when the poison was consumed by his spiritual energy. 

Yue Qingyuan gave a slight jump as Shen Qingqiu jolted up on the bed with a gasp. He tore his hands away, holding them up in the air to declare his innocence, though the other man seemed to give him no mind. Shen Qingqiu collapsed back down, eyes rolling into his skull as his body writhed. 

“There you go,” Mu Qingfang tried to hold on as Shen Qingqiu’s body finally reacted to the intense pleasure it was getting, twisting and jerking in his grasp. “You’re doing so well.”

Shen Qingqiu kicked out his legs, fingers clawing at the sheets as his back bent at an angle that had to hurt. He was screaming, tears running down his face and snot dripping from his nose.

“Zhangmen-shixiong, please hold him down.”

Yue Qingyuan did, though he looked like he would start crying any moment, eyes wide and desperate as he looked at the doctor.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing's wrong, this is normal.”

“Is it?!” Yue Qingyuan cried out, throwing himself bodily at Shen Qingqiu to keep him from tossing himself off the bed. “Are you certain?!”

Mu Qingfang didn’t bother trying to hide his eyeroll as he freed his hands to untuck his own cock. He grabbed the flailing legs, wrapping them around his waist as he pressed himself inside Shen Qingqiu.

Immediately, the man stilled. 

Yue Qingyuan sat up cautiously, eyes fixed on Shen Qingqiu’s face to see if he would start up again before he finally swung back to look at the doctor. 

A flush spread like a flood across his face as he turned to stare at the ceiling instead. 

“Zhangmen-shixiong,” Mu Qingfang called, grunting slightly as he pulled his hips back to slam it back inside Shen Qingqiu. “Could you please continue administering qi?”

“Hm?” Yue Qingyuan squeaked, voice strained. “Right now? While you’re…?”

“Yue-shixiong,” Mu Qingfang sighed. “Do you want to assist Shen-shidi?”

Yue Qingyuan hesitated only a moment longer before sitting back on the edge of the bed and taking Shen Qingqiu’s wrist in his hands. 

Mu Qingfang waited to feel the spiritual energy connecting before he started thrusting back into the other man. 

Shen Qingqiu was still partially hypnotized, though he was showing more signs of cognizance. Or, at the very least, his body was reacting to external stimulus finally. He writhed underneath Mu Qingfang, mouth gasping wordless sounds as his hips twisted uncoordinatedly.

Mu Qingfang reached out to grab his dick again, thumb pressed down on the end of the rod as he angled his hips to hit the spot that seemed to make him react more.

Shen Qingqiu came first, body shuddering violently as it came forcibly dry. He reached out to push at Mu Qingfang’s chest, eyes squeezing shut as the doctor continued pounding into him, intent on driving him past his limitations.

Mu Qingfang finally came after a few minutes, holding Shen Qingqiu’s hips to his as he filled his body with cum and qi in a proper dual cultivation. 

They both were left gasping, Shen Qingqiu crying and trembling and Mu Qingfang working quickly to check his meridians.

“Perfect, the poison is gone and  he should recover completely by the morning.” He pulled out, a thick stream of cum following after him. “I’ll monitor him through the night and let Zhangmen-shixiong know if anything comes up.”

The aforementioned Zhangmen-shixiong sat motionless on the bed, eyes focused unseeing between Shen Qingqiu’s parted thighs.

Mu Qingfang tapped him on the shoulder.

“This shidi would appreciate it if shixiong relieves himself away from view of patients or disciples. There’s a private room over there.” He pointed to the door, gently pushing the man to stand and lumber his way out.

“Don’t worry, Zhangman-shixiong. This shidi will take very good care of Shen-shixiong.”

He resolutely shut the door in the man’s face.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was crying bitterly in his heart as he stabbed his brush aggressively at the paper in front of him.

Paperwork never ended - as soon as he finished one sheet, five more would be thrust under his nose. A cycle of black smears and flickering candlelight that was only interrupted when the paper in front of him required he hopped on his sword to get more paperwork from someone else.

There was a reason the original Shang Qinghua had sold his martial siblings out so easily. They sucked! This sect sucked! This peak sucked! He sucked!!!

A lotus shell nailed him in the forehead and he looked up with a scowl at one of his aforementioned shitty martial brothers.

Shen Qingqiu gave him a haughty look in reply, still chewing languidly on the lotus seeds. He flicked another one, forcing Shang Qinghua to dive to the side to avoid it.

“Can I help you?” He asked exasperatedly, shoving the gathered pile of shells off his desk and onto the floor. “I’m a little busy here.”

Shen Qingqiu shrugged lazily, slumping further in his seat.

“Is there a reason you denied my request for more instruments?” He asked with faux disinterest. If Shang Qinghua didn’t know him better, he’d think the man actually didn’t care. That perhaps he had come just to see his buddy and maybe help him with his neverending paper. 

Alas, he knew him too well.

Shen Qingqiu was properly pissed.

It was the worst kind too - quiet and relaxed. His usual method of storming in and demanding whatever he wanted, throwing everything in his path until he forced Shang Qinghua to bend, was annoying but something pretty frequent. 

“Shen-shixiong,” Shang Qinghua immediately demurred. “You asked for new instruments not even four years ago. The ones you have should still be functional.”

“Functional.” Shen Qingqiu repeated, tone sharp. 

Shang Qinghua winced, sensing his misstep. 

“Ah, of course if they’re damaged we can-“

“You expect me to let my disciples practice with faulty instruments? They practice day and night on them - they’re learning, they’re not experts at keeping their instruments perfect. Plus,” he learned over the desk, staring at Shang Qinghua with piercing, venomous eyes. “They recently went through something traumatic and lost a martial sibling. They deserve a treat.”

“A treat.” Shang Qinghua repeated, the effect massively less intimidating than when Shen Qingqiu did it. “Shixiong, we do not have unlimited funding and as you pointed out, our entire sect just had a major loss. It would be unfair if-“

“I do not care if it’s unfair. I gave you two years to sort everything else out.” He interrupted, voice even and resolute. After a moment, he continued in a quieter voice. “What if their instruments break in the next three years? What if they are left defenseless during Luo Binghe’s return? Not all of my disciples focus on swordplay. They’d be at a disadvantage.”

Shang Qinghua sighed, reaching up to rub his temples. 

“Then send another request in three years, before Binghe is due to return and I’ll accept the request.”

“What if the timing is off? What if they don’t get here before Binghe comes back? You’d leave my disciples defenseless?”

“Shixiong,” Shang Qinghua groaned. “Then send it in two!”

Shen Qingqiu clattered to his feet, his chair rattling from the force. He slammed his hands on the desk, looming over Shang Qinghua. 

“What difference does it make if you accept it now or in three, two, one years? Stop making this difficult!” 

The candle on Shang Qinghua’s desk tilted before losing its battle with gravity and knocking over on its side. The melted wax immediately ran, ruining the papers beneath it and slashing over Shen Qingqiu’s hands.

“Fuck!” Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua both cried out. 

Shen Qingqiu snatched his hand away, peeling the wax off to see the red skin underneath. He brought it to his mouth, soothing the burn with his tongue in an instinct born from a lifetime of spilt coffee and ramen. 

Shang Qinghua scraped at the wax, moaning pitifully at the stain left on the paper. 

“Look at what you’ve done!” He shrieked, holding up the scrolls. “Hours! Days! Weeks! All gone in a second.”

“Fuck your papers!” Shen Qingqiu spat, licking his wounds like a particularly large cat. “Why would you keep a candle around so much paper?! You’re lucky nothing's burned down yet. This is your fault - and you injured me! I would have dragged your ass to court and fleeced you for all you were worth!”

“You’re a cultivator - a little heat from wax isn’t going to kill you! Stop being a baby.” Shang Qinghua sneered back, gathering his ruined papers in his arms. “And the candle has a talisman on its base to make the flame flameless, thank you very much.”

Shen Qingqiu stared back at him with an open jaw for a moment before his face twisted in loathing. He reached out to grab the righted candle with one hand and Shang Qinghua’s lapels with the other, rounding the desk so they could stand toe to toe.

“Let’s see how you like it then.” He seethed, tearing Shang Qinghua’s robes to the side enough to pour hot wax on his chest. 

Shang Qinghua squealed, dropping his papers to the floor as he pushed Shen Qingqiu away.

“Dude, what the fuck!” 

“You’re a cultivator!” Shen Qingqiu shot back, immediately coming back for another round with the candle. “What’s a little wax!”

He jumped Shang Qinghua, pushing the shorter man to the ground. They wrestled, limbs flailing before Shang Qingqiu flipped them, holding the other man down on his stomach and forcing the candle from his hands.

“Ha! Physical cultivators for the win!” 

“Get off!” Shen Qingqiu snarled, twisting and writhing on the floor beneath Shang Qinghua. “You bastard! I outrank you!”

Shang Qinghua laughed, taking hold of the shoulders of Shen Qingqiu’s robes and pulling them down to expose his back.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He raged beneath him, doubling his efforts to get free. 

“I thought we were playing with wax.” Shang Qinghua hummed distractedly, reaching to grab his candle to dump more wax on Shen Qingqiu’s skin. “I thought that’s what you wanted since you started it.”

“Ow!” Shen Qingqiu hissed through his bared teeth. “Get off!”

“Hm, no. I’m actually starting to have fun.” He dragged Shen Qingqiu’s robes lower, trapping his arms in the sleeves and immobilizing him further. He poured more, watching in fascination as the hot liquid solidified into a filmy wax across the other man’s skin. “Like a lot of fun actually. I should have used a red candle instead, I think it’d really seal the deal on this.”

Shen Qingqiu clenched his jaw shut and didn’t reply. 

“Oh don’t be like that, bro.” Shang Qinghua snickered, moving down the finally still body to ruck his clothes lower, pouring the wax onto Shen Qingqiu’s lower back. Shen Qingqiu jolted underneath him, sucking on a breath. “Something got your tongue?”

Shen Qingqiu said something muffled and low, face pressed against the floor.

“What was that? I can’t hear you.” Shang Qinghua leaned down to put his face closer to Shen Qingqiu’s mouth.

“I can feel you getting off on this.” He said through his teeth, face red from more than just anger. “You’re sitting on my ass, you stupid bastard.”

Shang Qinghua blinked, looking down to see that he indeed was hard and he indeed was grinding it unconsciously on Shen Qingqiu’s ass. Speechlessly, he looked back at the other man who avoided eye contact completely.

“Oh, uh…” Shang Qinghua waffled on how to continue before awkwardly raising to his knees so he hovered above Shen Qingqiu. 

“It’s…” Shen Qingqiu broke out, voice dying immediately. “I mean, you can. Keep going.”

“Huh.” Shang Qinghua said. 

They were both silent for a moment before Shang Qinghua bodily flipped Shen Qingqiu over onto his back. 

As he expected, the man was also hard. 

“Oh, I see.” He mused, a slow grin crawling across his face. “You like it.”

“I did not say that.” Shen Qingqiu immediately snapped back.

“No, you didn’t say it but you definitely meant it.” Shang Qinghua snickered, pulling Shen Qingqiu’s robes lower.

“Stop messing up my clothes or I’ll put in an order for more.”

Shang Qinghua immediately released him. 

Shen Qingqiu sat up, pulling harshly at his robes despite his earlier words to remove them, leaving himself in just his pants. He laid back down and stared imperiously up at the other man.

“Well?” His brow rose impatiently and Shang Qinghua couldn’t stifle his snort.

“Alright, yeah.” He pulled his own robes off, pausing as Shen Qingqiu gave a squack. “What now?”

“Why are you taking off your clothes?!”

“Because we’re going to have sex…?”

Shen Qingqiu stared up at him with horror.

“No we’re not?!” He sat up so they were chest to chest. “We’re just..playing with wax.”

“While hard.” Shang Qinghua reminded him. “And without our robes?”

Shen Qingqiu waved off his very valid points. 

“We’re not gay. So we can’t have sex. That would be gay.”

Shang Qinghua gaped down at him in wonder.

“You’re serious.” He said with growing delight. “Oh wow. You never cease to amaze me, Cucumber. Just jam packed with little idiosyncrasies.”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then get off.”

“No, no, I’ll be good.” He put a hand to Shen Qingqiu’s chest, pushing him back down. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

Shen Qingqiu scowled up at him but said nothing more.

Shang Qinghua sat delicately on Shen Qingqiu’s lap, waiting to see if the man would put up a fuss. When he didn’t, he ground his ass down as if to get comfortable, taking the blow to his stomach with a laugh. 

The candle tilted over Shen Qingqiu’s front, spilling hot wax out and hitting the thin skin of his chest. His stomach jumped, breath hitching before relaxing until another pour landed on another spot. Shang Qinghua systematically covered his entire front, letting the overage spill past his sides onto his back. He paid special attention to the dip of his bellybutton, filling the crevice and watching in delight as the muscle trembled in his stomach. 

His eyes flickered away from the view to watch Shen  Qingqiu’s face, pausing as he took the image in.

Shen Qingqiu’s face was red and splotchy, his hands covering his mouth tight enough for the skin to turn white in a desperate attempt to silence himself. His eyes were watery, the tears collecting on his lashes and at the edges of his eyes in big drops.

“Damn,” Shang Qinghua breathed. “Yeah, there’s no way in hell.”

“What?” Shen Qingqiu hissed through his teeth, the effect falling flat as his lips trembled and the first tears finally ran down his cheeks. 

“Can I kiss you? Like just a little?”

“No.” Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed in a watery glare. 

“Ugh, fine.” Shang Qinghua readjusted his seat. “Can I at least jack us off? Bros do that, I’m pretty sure.”

Shen Qingqiu glared reproachfully up at him, but his silence was promising.

“You’re just pretty sure?”

“Well, like, I’ve never had any bros but I definitely overheard boys at school say they did it together for fun. So it’s probably fine, right?

Shen Qingqiu chewed on his lip for a moment longer before nodding hesitantly. 

“Alright. But no funny business.”

Shang Qinghua didn’t bother asking for clarification on what could be considered funny business before agreeing.

“Yeah, sure.” He grabbed the edge of his pants and pulled them down enough to let his cock spring free, signing in relief. “You do the jerking and I’ll continue pouring the wax on you.”

“What? Like I have to jerk your cock too? No way.” 

“Don’t be stingy.” Shang Qinghua rolled his eyes, dragging Shen Qingqiu’s pants down to fish his cock out too. “It’s either that or no more wax. Which is it?”

Shen Qingqiu glowered spitefully but reached out all the same to wrap a fist around both of their dicks. He gave a slow, cautious stroke and when nothing untoward happened he continued to jerk them off in sync.

“Here,” Shang Qinghua said, stopping him briefly to press their cocks together. “Do them together with both hands.”

Shen Qingqiu’s jaw clenched in annoyance but he did as asked, sighing in pleasure as it started feeling good.

Shang Qinghua let him work undisturbed for a moment before taking the candle back up. There was little real estate left, but he hadn’t touched the man’s nipples for fear of retribution, but Shen Qingqiu seemed distracted enough now. He tilted the candle, letting the wax pour out on the man’s nipples. 

The effect was immediate, Shen Qingqiu gasping as his hands spasmed, hips twisting instinctively.

“Keep going,” Shang Qinghua encouraged. “Your hands stopped.” 

Shen Qingqiu’s hands were trembling, almost numb as they started back up. He was crying again, something gentle and soft. Black eyes reflective pools as he squeezed them shut to let stray drops fall down his face.

Shang Qinghua poured wax on the other nipple, dragging the stream down until he could finally pour it on their combined cocks.

Shen Qingqiu screamed, hands flying faster, spreading the still liquid wax over their dicks, keeping it warm enough to not solidify completely. Shang Qinghua stuffed his fingers in the man’s mouth, silencing his voice as he threw a cautious look at the door.

It was warded, but not against too loud of sounds. His disciples were used to his random screeching, but they’d recognize a new voice screaming in his study.

“Cucumber, I know it’s really good but please keep it down.” 

Shen Qingqiu shook his head, tears steaming down his face like faucets. Shang Qinghua removed his hand cautiously.

“Can’t-“ he wheezed. “Put your hand back. Please.”

Shang Qinghua blinked in surprise but did as the man asked, shoving three of his fingers in Shen Qingqiu’s mouth. The man moaned around his fingers, eyes rolling back. 

“Fuck, dude,” Shang Qinghua groaned. “This is insane.”

He pushed and pulled his fingers in and out, feeling Shen Qingqiu’s tongue flicker between the digits, sliding past them to lap at his palm. He fucked his mouth to the rhythm of Shen Qingqiu’s hands, imagining in the back of his mind that his cock was shoved down the man’s throat.

Secretly, he thought Shen Qingqiu was thinking the same thing.

He tilted the candle again, shuddering as the wax poured over their cocks, tangling in their pubes. Shen Qingqiu’s hips jumped, then he started moving his hands faster, almost painfully. His whines got louder, teeth scraping against Shang Qinghua’s knuckles as more tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Shang Qinghua leaned forward to lap up a tear before going lower to lick the drool running down Shen Qingqiu’s chin.

Shang Qinghua dunked another load of wax before tossing the candle, using his now free hand to help Shen Qingqiu jack them off.  He humped down, grinding their hips together. Shen Qingqiu’s legs rose to wrap around his hips, driving them even closer. 

They were getting nearer to the end, both of them animalistically fucking against each other. Their rhythm was shattered, leaving only desperation for a climax.

Shang Qinghua removed his fingers from the other man’s mouth, silencing him with his own mouth instead as he dove his hand behind Shen Qingqiu, shoving spit-slick fingers up his ass.

Shen Qingqiu came immediately, body tightening like a bowstring before quaking in an orgasm. 

Shang Qinghua watched his eyes roll into the back of his head before he met his own release, spilling out onto the man below him. He sat back to jerk the last few strings of cum across the dried wax of Shen Qingqiu’s stomach, sighing in satisfaction.

A few moments went by as they both came down from the high, their breaths evening out again and the blood started flowing back to their brains. 

The silence was broken as Shen Qingqiu dragged himself up to bore into Shang Qinghua.

“I expect to see those instruments delivered soon. If not…” he trailed off, eyes flickering down to look at the mess made of his body. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Shang Qinghua sighed, sitting back on his hands. 

“Man, let the afterglow linger a little longer at least.” 

“You stuck your fingers up my ass. And kissed me!”

Shang Qinghua waves off the concerns.

“Every guy plays with their ass. There’s a pleasure button up there for a reason. Plus, you were screaming bloody murder! I had to shut you up somehow!” Shang Qinghua leaned forward, smiling mischievously. “I expect a thank you for opening your eyes to anal play, by the way.”

Shen Qingqiu stood up, righting his pants and grabbing a robe from the floor to jerkily pull it on.

“I give you a month.”

“Hey!” Shang Qinghua called after him. “It takes way longer for that request to process through! Shen Qingqiu!”

He watched the man storm out before sighing loudly, falling back on the ground to stare up at the ceiling. 

“Whatever, at least I got an orgasm out of it.” He sat back up, grabbing the robe to redress. A single look at the pale green color forced another laugh from his throat. “Bastard took the wrong ones.”