Work Text:
It is, Shen Qingqiu thinks, a pretty good plan, all things considered.
Step 1: Shen Qingqiu will suggest he and Luo Binghe have a picnic somewhere remote. Luo Binghe will, of course, agree.
Step 2: On the way to their picnic, Shen Qingqiu will stop by Bai Zhan to tell Liu Qingge he saw some great beast roaming around that area. Liu Qingge will, of course, go to fight it.
Step 3: He and Luo Binghe will travel by sword to their destination while Liu Qingge prepares for a hunt, set up in a location visible from above, and wait.
After successfully completing steps 1 through 3 without issue, all that remains is step 4.
Shen Qingqiu takes a long, slow sip of his tea, savoring the light floral notes and subtle bitterness as he watches Luo Binghe pull dish after dish from his qiankun pouch. The picnic blanket is quickly covered in everything from cold noodles to almond jelly to six different types of steamed buns, spread out in fancy little patterns, an edible tapestry of color. The wind rustles gently through the trees on the edge of the clearing, ghostly fingers brushing through the short grass bursting from the rich, dark earth.
Shen Qingqiu sighs contentedly, wrapping his fingers more firmly around the warmth cupped in his hands.
How peaceful.
A strange sound picks up a moment later. Some sort of distant whistling.
Ah. Oh no. He’s gone and spoiled it, hasn’t he?
Cheng Luan screams to a stop a few meters away, the echo of Liu Qingge’s arrival tussling Shen Qingqiu’s hair and flattening the grass in a wide circle around his feet. Luo Binghe’s flaring demonic qi cools to a light simmer once he recognizes their guest, ignoring his shishu as he dutifully pours Shen Qingqiu another cup.
“Thank you, Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu says. Perfect timing, shidi! Now for:
Step 4: Get these two wrecking balls to blow off steam somewhere other than his peak!!
“What is happening.” Liu Qingge stomps over, Cheng Luan drawn and shining in his hand. “Why is he here.”
“Shidi said he’d like to fight a wild beast.” Shen Qingqiu says lightly, sipping his tea. “Here he is.”
Luo Binghe looks to Liu Qingge. Looks to him.
“Shizun has said he didn’t approve of us fighting.” He says. “That we’d destroy Qing Jing peak if we ever did more than spar.”
“We’re not on Qing Jing peak now, are we?” Shen Qingqiu responds mildly.
Luo Binghe bares his teeth in a predatory smile, standing in a swirl of dark silk as he draws Zheng Yang from its sheath. Liu Qingge raises his own sword, taking a battle stance. The clash of demonic qi and spiritual qi begins rippling outwards. Birds escape to the sky from the forest nearby. Small clumps of dirt begin to rise in the growing pressure. Shen Qingqiu's half finished cup of tea sloshes about like an ocean during a thunderstorm.
Ah... perhaps Shen Qingqiu underestimated how destructive these two could be. What will happen to all the food if they really start going at it? And he doesn’t want Liu Qingge to lose too quickly.
“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu carefully sets his cup down before it can soak his robes. “Beasts do not use weapons.”
Luo Binghe startles, turning to him. The pressure abruptly drops to a much more manageable level.
“Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu hesitates, unsure of how to say give the poor man a handicap without hurting his shidi’s pride. He raises an eyebrow, instead, glancing to Liu Qingge. Luo Binghe’s own eyebrows raise to his hairline.
He seems to understand, thankfully, obediently sheathing his blade and holding it out to Shen Qingqiu in two hands.
Shen Qingqiu takes Zheng Yang and lays it across his lap, satisfied. Luo Binghe steps back onto the grass, deft fingers loosening the ties of his outer robe. The heavy fabric slips easily from his shoulders, pooling around his arms, before he folds it - quick and neat - and sets it by Shen Qingqiu’s feet.
...Huh? Huh?!
“Why are you- stop that!” Liu Qingge shouts. He takes a step closer, Cheng Luan flashing in the afternoon sun. “Hey!”
“Beasts don’t wear clothing, either.” Luo Binghe says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Shen Qingqiu disguises his laugh with a cough, retrieving his fan. If his husband wants to strip for his amusement, there’s no reason to stop him. They’re all men here.
“Is something wrong, shidi?” Shen Qingqiu teases, peeking at Liu Qingge over his fan.
“He’s-” Liu Qingge scowls at Luo Binghe’s increasingly bare chest. “Put that back on.”
Shen Qingqiu suppresses a grin. You’ve shown your hand too early, Liu shidi. There’s no way Luo Binghe would be willing to redress now.
Luo Binghe continues stripping, slowly, one robe at a time, until he’s left in nothing but his pants and boots. His thumbs hook under the waistband, tugging it lower on his hips.
Shen Qingqiu sputters.
“That’s enough,” he says quickly, fanning himself. “Binghe should keep those on.”
“Shizun likes what he sees?” Luo Binghe asks coyly, hands falling to his sides as he slowly turns, flexing slightly and tossing his long, lustrous mane of loose curls.
“...Mn. Very much so.” Shen Qingqiu admits, raising his fan higher. His fingers pluck at Zheng Yang’s sheathe, fidgeting with imaginary guqin strings. Truly, the protagonist’s body is nothing to scoff at! Though Luo Binghe’s canon form is that of a lithe prettyboy, the past few months of spoiling have managed to pad him out with a bit of fat; his chiseled abs have smoothed over, his chest has become plump and soft. And his ass... Well, it makes sense the protagonist would be peerless in all respects!
“Are we fighting or not?!” Liu Qingge shouts, face red with fury. His eyes flick to Luo Binghe’s bare chest, the patch of dark hair beneath his navel, the loosened waistband still hanging much too low on his hips.
Oh. Maybe he’s not looking at the waistband. His husband is already... ahem.
Luo Binghe seems to have noticed the direction of Liu Qingge’s gaze as well.
“How about a bet, Liu Qingge?” Luo Binghe says coyly, running a hand sensually down his stomach. “Loser obeys the winner until the day’s end.”
“Ridiculous!” Liu Qingge slashes Cheng Luan through the air. “Come at me!!”
“Of course you don't have to accept.” Luo Binghe continues, hand drifting unhurriedly lower. “Especially since there’s no chance you’d win, even without this lord wielding a weapon.”
Shen Qingqiu holds his breath, looking to his shidi. Liu Qingge works his jaw, scowling hard enough Shen Qingqiu is worried for a moment he might stomp off without an answer.
“You won’t listen.” He says, eventually, voice strained. “When I win.”
Luo Binghe grins, proud and unrestrained.
“When you lose, this lord will make you kneel.”
Liu Qingge launches forward. Luo Binghe lunges to intercept.
The impact of Luo Binghe’s palm striking Cheng Luan rings Shen Qingqiu’s head like a bell. The two trade blows at a speed that’s hard to follow, Liu Qingge keeping a slight distance with his sword as Luo Binghe chases him down, claws and fists striking out towards anything within reach. Luo Binghe does still seem to have the upper hand despite not having his weapon, but Liu Qingge is holding his own surprisingly well.
Shen Qingqiu snacks on a pork bun as he watches the both of them explode across the clearing, sword glares crashing into the treeline, demonic qi singing the grass, tearing up roots and dirt in their wake.
Oh well! Not his peak, not his plants, not his problem!
Liu Qingge swings Cheng Luan for Luo Binghe’s legs, aiming to incapacitate. Luo Binghe leaps over the attack, over Liu Qingge, landing on all fours and skidding across the ground before lunging for his unguarded back. Liu Qingge doesn’t quite manage to dodge - a deep red blossoms across his grey robes where Binghe’s claws catch in his flesh.
Luo Binghe raises his hand to his mouth, licking the blood from his palm. Liu Qingge yells something angry and unintelligible, slashing furiously as Luo Binghe retreats, laughing.
Shen Qingqiu grabs another pork bun. His husband seems to be having a lot of fun playing the role of the beast.
Liu Qingge crouches, flashing forward fast enough to leave an afterimage. A thin red line appears across Binghe's chest, already sealed shut before it can begin to bleed in earnest.
“Almost!” Luo Binghe jeers, dancing back on light feet. “Nearly had me!”
“Demon! Stay still!” Liu Qingge shouts, two-handing Cheng Luan as he leaps into the air for an overhead strike.
Luo Binghe widens his stance, catching the blade between his hands. Liu Qingge bears down, growling in frustration, but he can't quite force his way through Binghe's iron grip. They both strain against the other, muscles flexing, bodies sweating, teeth bared in matching feral grins.
Luo Binghe kicks out suddenly, heel striking Liu Qingge square in the solar plexus hard enough Shen Qingqiu can see the impact frames. Liu Qingge coughs out a mouthful of blood as he flies backwards, boots digging deep furrows in the ground. He barely manages to stay standing, unable to dodge as Luo Binghe ducks under Cheng Luan, grabbing the front of Liu Qingge’s robes in one hand.
“Did this disciple hit Liu shishu too hard?” He coos mockingly, punctuating the statement by slamming his other fist into Liu Qingge’s side. Shen Qingqiu hears something crack. Liu Qingge retches, blood spilling down his chin, and decisively cuts through the fabric clutched in Luo Binghe’s fist, creating enough distance for a lunging stab. Binghe doesn’t seem to have predicted this; the blade slices cleanly through the meat of his shoulder.
The War God takes full advantage of this momentary lapse in focus, smashing Luo Binghe’s sternum with an open palm strike. Binghe takes a single step backwards, still clutching that handful of fabric, eyes glued to Liu Qingge’s-
Binghe, pay attention! Stop staring at his chest!!
Liu Qingge attacks relentlessly, the remnants of his robes flapping about as he swings his sword. Luo Binghe dodges by millimeters, still clenching the scrapped fabric in his hand, a conflicted expression on his face.
...Why does this ridiculous situation seem so familiar?
Liu Qingge strikes for Luo Binghe’s chest again, but it’s a feint- his body follows behind Cheng Luan’s path as Binghe dodges, stepping into his space and locking an arm around his wounded shoulder joint. Luo Binghe doesn’t manage to break free in time to avoid the throw; Liu Qingge slams him to the ground, sits astride his hips, and brings Cheng Luan’s blade to his throat in one smooth motion.
Huh.
Binghe... lost?
Shen Qingqiu gathers himself, watching the two of them for signs of upset or- well. He doesn’t know! He didn’t expect this to happen!!
Neither of them move. Luo Binghe is staring up at Liu Qingge with an expression that would best be described as eager. Anticipatory. Liu Qingge is still trying to catch his breath. The sheen of sweat on his chest shimmers in the sun as it rises and falls.
Shen Qingqiu can see his nipples.
“...Is Binghe going to keep his word?” Shen Qingqiu asks eventually, fanning himself.
Luo Binghe swallows against the blade held to his throat, a single drop of blood tracing a path to the ground below.
“Of course, shizun.” Luo Binghe says, voice rough.
His masochist of a husband seems to be looking forward to whatever Liu Qingge has in store for him. Liu Qingge, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Did he not expect to win?
Well, he wouldn’t have, if Binghe hadn’t gotten distracted.
“What is shidi going to do with him?” Shen Qingqiu asks, genuinely curious.
Liu Qingge looks at him, still breathing heavily, expression caught somewhere between mindlessly elated and mildly confused.
“He said he’d make you kneel,” Shen Qinqqiu reminds. “Perhaps shidi should return the favor?”
Liu Qingge’s cheeks flush an angry red. It only makes sense, with how closely he avoided the very same humiliation.
“I’ll kneel for you, shishu.” Luo Binghe purrs. “If you tell me to.”
“Shameless.” Liu Qingge says. He sounds somewhat... breathless? He stands, flicking the blood from Cheng Luan, and sheathes his sword.
Luo Binghe looks up from where he lays on the ground, gaze heated, releasing the fabric still clenched in his hand and placing his arms above his head, crossed at the wrists. It makes his chest look fantastic. Shen Qingqiu takes a sip of his tea to wet his suddenly dry mouth.
Liu Qingge must think so too - his eyes rake down Luo Binghe's prone form as he slips his arms free from his ruined robes, the fabric bunching around his waist. Shen Qingqiu can see a few fist-shaped bruises along his ribs, four red cuts running across his side, a deepening purple bruise high on his stomach. Luo Binghe blatantly ogles every inch of him as he waits for Liu Qingge to tell him to rise.
A long moment passes.
“Liu shishu wants this disciple to stay down?” Luo Binghe says impatiently, shifting his hips, drawing attention to the tent in his pants.
“Stop moving.” Liu Qingge snaps. Luo Binghe goes obediently still.
“Would you have me do nothing but lie here?” Luo Binghe pouts, when no further instruction is forthcoming. “Is this truly all you want from this lord?”
Liu Qingge glares down at him silently as he thinks. The blood on his chin still hasn't dried - it smears when he wipes at it roughly with his forearm. Liu Qingge glares at the resulting stain on his skin. Rubs it on his robes.
Perhaps he needs some encouragement. Shen Qingqiu rises to his feet, leaving Zheng Yang behind on the blanket and tucking his fan into his sleeve.
“Shidi doesn’t need to overthink it. He’s quite obedient, when he wants to be.” Shen Qingqiu lays a hand on Liu Qingge’s shoulder, pushing him gently towards his waiting husband. Liu Qingge nearly stumbles over his own feet.
Jiayou, Liu shidi! You can do this! Take your revenge for all the humiliation Luo Binghe has put you through over the years!
Liu Qingge clenches his fists by his sides. Takes a deep breath.
“Get up. On your knees.” Liu Qingge barks. It's the same tone he uses when disciplining his peak’s disciples. Luo Binghe obeys immediately, sitting back on his heels and setting his hands, palm up, on his thighs.
Shen Qingqiu nods approvingly, coming to stand by Liu Qingge’s side.
“You lost.” Liu Qingge says, after a moment.
“I did.” Luo Binghe agrees readily.
“It wasn’t a fair fight.” Liu Qingge argues.
“I agreed to the terms.” Luo Binghe says firmly. “Liu shishu should do what he wants with this one.”
Liu Qingge sucks in a sharp breath, winces - ah, his ribs are definitely broken - and turns to Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu smiles slightly, motioning towards the shirtless, gorgeous protagonist. What are you looking to this master for, shidi! He’s just here to watch!
He seems to decide on something, thankfully, taking a few steps forward and grabbing Luo Binghe roughly by the hair.
“Please, great cultivator, have mercy!” Luo Binghe whimpers exaggeratedly, lashes already glittering with unshed tears. “This lowly beast should have known better than to try and fight such a strong, powerful, virile-”
“Shut up.” Liu Qingge hisses, yanking him closer. The blush has spread to his ears. “Don’t speak.”
Luo Binghe looks up at him, blinking the false tears from his eyes, pursing his lips in a teasing smile as he nods slightly against the grip in his hair.
Liu Qingge swallows.
“You-” he turns to Shen Qingqiu again. “If I-”
“You can fuck him.” Shen Qingqiu says bluntly. Luo Binghe’s eyes widen, ablaze with determination. “He’d like that.”
Liu Qingge's whole face is red now, fading to a delicate pink as it spreads down his throat to his upper chest. He nods. Takes a deep breath.
“Open your mouth.” He says, shaking Luo Binghe by the hair. Luo Binghe obeys, even helpfully sticking his tongue out.
Liu Qingge scowls, tugging his pants down and freeing his cock.
Masochists, the both of them. Who gets hard from nothing more than a fight?
Shen Qingqiu can’t help but to stare, drinking in the sight as Liu Qingge yanks his husband closer, shoving himself into the back of Binghe’s throat in one rough thrust. Luo Binghe chokes slightly, but doesn’t do a thing to resist. Liu Qingge tightens his hold.
“Were you going to have me do this to you?” He asks, sounding more aroused than angry. “Have me kneel for you? Suck you off?”
Luo Binghe moans around his cock, blinking his eyes open. Shen Qingqiu pulls out his fan, hiding his face behind it. Luo Binghe looks to Shen Qingqiu. Smirks.
Liu Qingge gasps, curling forward as Luo Binghe swallows around him, shoving himself closer until he takes his cock all the way to the base.
“You- stop.” Liu Qingge grits out, pulling him off. Luo Binghe blinks up at him innocently, pink lips shining with spit and precum, and blows a gentle breath across Liu Qingge’s flushed cock.
Shen Qingqiu sees it twitch.
“He’s being quite the brat, isn’t he shidi.” Shen Qingqiu says seriously. Luo Binghe huffs out a quiet laugh. “A little discipline might be in order.”
Something shifts in Liu Qingge’s expression.
“You.” He says, releasing his grip on Luo Binghe’s hair to cross his arms. “Strip.”
Luo Binghe pauses for only a moment before sitting up on his knees, sliding his pants teasingly down his hips. Liu Qingge scowls.
“All the way off.” He says. “Shoes too.”
Luo Binghe listens, curiosity evident in his expression. He doesn’t forget to make a show of it, crossing his legs in front of his chest as he slowly removes his boots, slides his pants down to his ankles, hiding his own arousal for as long as possible.
Liu Qingge clicks his tongue.
“Back where you were.”
Luo Binghe obeys, hands back on his thighs, cock hard enough it’s nearly flush against his stomach.
“Touch yourself.” Liu Qingge says, grabbing his hair and yanking him forward. “And don't stop until I tell you to.”
Luo Binghe wraps a hand around himself immediately, jerking his cock as Liu Qingge starts thrusting roughly into his mouth. Shen Qingqiu can’t help but stare at the sight; at Luo Binghe’s flushed, eager expression, the tantalizing glimpses of his cock as it peeks between his fingers, as Liu Qingge’s slides between his lips, the dizzying contrast between Liu Qingge’s mostly clothed self and Luo Binghe’s naked form, the dangerous intimacy of it all. Shen Qingqiu can tell Liu Qingge is enjoying himself, too - his beautiful face is falling open in pleasure as he continues using Luo Binghe's mouth, the crease between his brows softening as he stares down at how eagerly Binghe is taking him.
“Stop.” Liu Qingge says breathlessly. Luo Binghe’s hand stills a moment later, going back to rest on his thigh as Liu Qingge’s hips begin to stutter, the Heavenly Pillar bouncing against his stomach with every harsh thrust.
Liu Qingge suddenly pushes in deep, holding Luo Binghe tight to his body as his abs convulse, spilling into his throat. Luo Binghe moans, long and loud, grabbing the back of Liu Qingge’s thighs to pull him even deeper. Liu Qingge’s hips jerk - once, twice - before he slowly pulls out, breathing heavily.
Luo Binghe opens his mouth, showing off his prize. Liu Qingge grabs his jaw and forces his head back.
Like making a dog take a vitamin, Shen Qingqiu thinks hysterically, as Luo Binghe reluctantly swallows.
Liu Qingge tucks himself away. Wipes his hands on his pants. Pokes testingly at his ribs.
“Alright.” He says, leisurely walking over to the picnic blanket as he carefully stretches his shoulders. “That was fun.”
Luo Binghe stiffens.
Shen Qingqiu purses his lips to hide a smile, following close behind his shidi. Seems that Binghe isn't going to get what he wants, this time.
"Shidi likes sweets?" Shen Qingqiu asks, sitting down beside Liu Qingge and passing him the plate of sesame balls. Liu Qingge takes one, popping it in his mouth and chewing like its done something to piss him off.
Luo Binghe is closely watching the two of them from a short distance away, still fully naked and definitely still hard, lips pursed in frustration as his eyes begin to tear up.
Shen Qingqiu immediately feels his heart soften. The poor boy has been bullied enough, hasn't he?
"Does shidi want to have Binghe serve us?" Shen Qingqiu asks quietly.
"No." Liu Qingge says, grabbing a bun - this one seems to be filled with mushrooms - and taking a bite. "This is good."
Shen Qingqiu smiles awkwardly, glancing back to his disciple. Luo Binghe is staring at the ground, now, hands clenching into fists on his thighs.
"Shidi is sure he doesn't want to...?" He whispers, leaning close to Liu Qingge.
Liu Qingge looks at him.
"You were the one who said he needed discipline." He says, taking another bite.
Shen Qingqiu... can't refute that.
Liu Qingge finishes off the bun, reaching for another. Shen Qingqiu gets the sudden, awful suspicion that Liu Qingge intends to keep Binghe sitting there, naked and aroused, until he flies back home.
Liu Qingge, you traitor! You were supposed to wear each other out, not rile Binghe up and set him loose!! At this rate Shen Qingqiu is going to be the one to deal with a miserable, neglected, horny half-demon!!!
"Shidi only has his obedience til the sun sets," Shen Qingqiu reminds him pointedly, reaching for his tea. "It might be prudent to wear him out beforehand. He has a tendency to pay back any slights a hundredfold."
Liu Qingge freezes mid-bite.
"Hey." He says, turning to Luo Binghe, who perks up immediately. "How do you want to come."
Luo Binghe's expression turns suspicious. Liu Qingge rolls his eyes.
"You can speak." He says, shoving the rest of the bun in his mouth.
Luo Binghe pretends at reluctance, eyes downcast, voice demure and sticky-sweet.
"This one doesn't get to decide. Liu shishu won, after all." Luo Binghe says, hips shifting back and forth. He seems uncomfortably hard.
Did he like being forced to wait? Shen Qingqiu sighs. This incurable M...
"If you don't tell me you won't get to." Liu Qingge scolds. "Stop playing games."
Luo Binghe hesitates. Fidgets, slightly, where he sits.
"This one would be grateful if Liu shishu touched him." He says quietly.
"How." Liu Qingge asks, walking over and crossing his arms. Luo Binghe looks up to meet his gaze. Swallows. "Explain."
Luo Binghe glances at Shen Qingqiu for a brief moment, cheeks dusting pink.
Is he... embarrassed? Surely not! After everything he's done and had done to him, what could he possibly have to be embarrassed about??
"If Liu shishu pressed this one into the dirt and took him from behind, this one would be grateful." Luo Binghe mumbles.
Shen Qingqiu nearly chokes on his tea.
Liu Qingge scowls, considering it.
What are you waiting for, shidi!! Your long term rival is practically begging you to disrespect him!! Why are you hesitating!!!
"Alright." Liu Qingge says. Luo Binghe's eyes widen in surprised delight. "Beg for it."
Shen Qingqiu sets down his tea. He's going to spit the whole cup out, at this rate.
"Please, Liu shishu! Please take me!" Luo Binghe begs earnestly, any shame tossed aside at the promise of getting what he wants. "Claim the spoils of your overwhelming victory in my young, nubile body!"
A vein pulses in Liu Qingge's temple. Luo Binghe grins.
"This one wants nothing more than to be pressed down, to be taken like a prize by the one who's bested me!" He continues, grabbing at Liu Qingge's pants, hips wriggling as he rubs his cheek against the fabric covering Liu Qingge's cock. "Please, this one needs you to come inside him!!"
Shen Qingqiu hides his face behind his fan. He almost regrets encouraging this. The secondhand embarrassment is going to kill him a fifth time.
"That's enough." Liu Qingge says, voice strangled. "Shut up."
Luo Binghe bats his long, dark eyelashes, still clutching at Liu Qingge's pants. Liu Qingge's eyebrow twitches.
"Let go!" He snaps. Luo Binghe sits back on his heels. Liu Qingge stalks behind him, presses a boot to his upper back, and shoves him prone. Luo Binghe falls ass up, like a desperate, overly busty girl in a hentai game.
Shen Qingqiu quickly covers his gaping mouth. Is this what the fabled S is like? Who knew someone could be both an S and M??
Liu Qingge kneels behind him, grabbing Luo Binghe's hair and yanking until his back is pulled into a strained arch. Binghe moans eagerly.
"Quiet." Liu Qingge smacks his ass. Luo Binghe ah-hah-s, biting his lower lip, claws digging deep furrows into the grass. Liu Qingge smacks him again, spreading his cheeks and opening his mouth as he leans down, a mix of spit and blood dripping onto Luo Binghe’s hole.
If Shen Qingqiu wasn't sure that Luo Binghe could easily heal from any damage Liu Qingge could possibly do, he'd be concerned for his disciple's chrysanthemum. He reaches blindly for another bun, shoving it into his open mouth.
Oooh, red bean paste!
Liu Qingge strokes himself for a quick moment before he shoves himself in, bottoming out in one quick thrust. Luo Binghe gasps and groans, every sound swiftly punished with a harsh slap to his flank. Liu Qingge finds his rhythm quickly, muscles flexing as he drives steadily into Luo Binghe, leaning heavily on the hand tangled in his hair.
Shen Qingqiu chews absentmindedly as the sound of papapa fills the quiet air. His husband might be more of a masochist than he thought.
“Is this what you wanted?” Liu Qingge growls into the side of Luo Binghe's throat. He shivers, fingers scrabbling at the ground as Liu Qingge grinds his face into the dirt, the Heavenly Pillar slapping against his stomach with every thrust. "To be taken? Conquered? Claimed?"
Binghe groans, long and loud, voice hitching when Liu Qingge swiftly punishes him for it.
"You really can't stay quiet," Liu Qingge scoffs, relinquishing his grip to press two of his fingers to Luo Binghe’s open mouth. Luo Binghe’s eyes flutter shut as he welcomes them inside.
Shen Qingqiu takes another bite, chewing slowly. The image of the two of them together is really... quite something. Liu Qingge's mouth twists in a grimace as he pushes through the pain in his ribs, the blood smeared across his mouth and the visible bruising across his torso only adding to his savage, feral charm. Luo Binghe, in contrast, is starting to tear up, truly looking the part of a sweet, bullied maiden; were it not for his gorgeous, muscular body belying an unused strength, Shen Qingqiu would think he truly was being pushed down by some forceful brute.
“Much more obedient now, aren’t you.” Liu Qingge murmurs, shoving his fingers further in. Luo Binghe whines quietly. Liu Qingge shushes him, leaning forward along his back, running his other hand along Luo Binghe’s side towards his chest. “Good boy.”
He tweaks a nipple. Grazes his teeth along the back of Luo Binghe's neck. Binghe tries to swallow, gaze unsteady. Liu Qingge bites down on his shoulder nearly hard enough to draw blood.
Shen Qingqiu gets the sudden feeling Luo Binghe might be about to cry.
“Be obedient for a bit longer.” Liu Qingge sits back, grabbing Luo Binghe's hips hard enough to bruise as he continues pounding into the protagonist. “Touch yourself.”
Luo Binghe obeys immediately, scrambling to take himself in hand as Liu Qingge speeds up the pace. It's a matter of seconds before Luo Binghe comes with a muffled sob, white spattering onto the ground below. Liu Qingge continues for a minute longer, keeping Luo Binghe's limp body upright, before finally following him over the edge.
Shen Qingqiu applauds internally. Impressive, Liu shidi! Binghe looks truly worn out! He shoves the last of the bun in his mouth, walking over with an armful of Luo Binghe's folded robes.
"Hnnmgo." He says, squatting next to them. Liu Qingge looks up at him blearily, face flushed. Luo Binghe tips over bonelessly, laying on his side as he breathes slow and deep, lashes fluttering like silk in a light breeze.
Hm. Time for a gentle hand, it seems. Shen Qingqiu swallows.
"Binghe did a good job, didn't he Liu shidi?" Shen Qingqiu says, rubbing gentle circles into Luo Binghe's upper back. Binghe shivers. There are shallow abrasions on his cheek where he'd been pressed into the ground - seems he's still aware enough to prevent them from healing. Good!
"Liu shidi did a good job as well." Shen Qingqiu continues.
Liu Qingge looks flustered at the compliment, running a hand through his hair; his ponytail has come loose in the chaos. Shen Qingqiu pulls gently at Luo Binghe's arm, trying to get him to sit up, but his disciple seems intent on being dead weight.
"Lend a hand?" He asks Liu Qingge, taking a step back. Luo Binghe whimpers.
Liu Qingge squats next to Luo Binghe, tips him onto his back, and stands - one arm under his shoulders, the other under his knees. A picture perfect princess carry. Luo Binghe sighs, snuggling into his chest.
Shen Qingqiu smiles fondly, leaning in to press a kiss to his adorable disciple's undamaged cheek. Then one to Liu Qingge's, for good measure.
Liu Qingge's perpetual scowl softens to a slight frown.
Shen Qingqiu quickly rearranges the dishes to make enough space for three to sit. Liu Qingge carefully lays Luo Binghe down on the blanket, his head resting in Shen Qingqiu's lap.
"Come on. Let's get you dressed." Shen Qingqiu murmurs, grabbing his innermost robe. Luo Binghe allows himself to be moved about with minimal resistance, sliding his arms through as directed and turning his face into Shen Qingqiu's stomach, curling up like a cat. Liu Qingge settles nearby, crossing his arms over a knee as he watches the two of them.
This beautiful, frustrating man. He's so shy, sometimes.
"Come closer." Shen Qingqiu says firmly, brooking no argument. Liu Qingge hesitates, scooting slowly, an inch at a time, and stops a short ways away. Shen Qingqiu grabs his elbow and pulls him those last few inches, until their thighs touch and Liu Qingge's hair is within easy reach.
"You're a mess." He says, carefully untangling Liu Qingge's crown and setting it aside. Liu Qingge bows his head, letting him fuss with his hair until it's somewhat acceptable, falling across his back like a river of dark silk. "Sit up. Look at me."
Liu Qingge does, gaze surprisingly soft. Shen Qingqiu pulls a handkerchief from his sleeve, wetting it with his tongue, and begins wiping at the blood drying on his chin.
Liu Qingge closes his eyes.
Shen Qingqiu gets the last of it, setting the handkerchief aside and pulling Liu Qingge's head to rest on his shoulder. His other hand settles on Luo Binghe's upper back, rubbing in small, soothing circles.
A perfect, foolproof plan, Shen Qingqiu thinks smugly, breathing in the cool mountain air as he looks around at the carnage. Qing Jing peak remains unblemished, its bamboo forests stand tall and strong, and - most importantly - his house is still intact! Not a tile cracked! Not a beam broken! The little garden he's been growing out front hasn't even been trampled!
...
For now.