Playing Possum

The breeze was soft; the sun high but not too hot; fluffy clouds dotted the sky; cheerful birds chirped. Regardless, Shen Qingqiu resented the whole trip. Why did he have to go to boring intersect negotiations?? He had contributed nothing, mostly nodding sagely behind his fan while Shang Qinghua provided various details on trade goods and Qi Qingqi bargained like a housewife at market. Not that she was a housewife—he shuddered at imagining her face were someone to call her a housewife—he didn’t want to die! If it had at least been about trading for herbs, or monster parts—then he could have been useful! Or at least interested! Maybe! But no, boring foodstuffs and metals and ore for forging, blah blah blah it had been a black hole of boredom.

At least no one had tried to fight Luo Binghe. As if he could tell that Shen Qingqiu was thinking of him, Luo Binghe snuggled his nose more deeply into Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, his toes butting up against Shen Qingqiu’s heels on Xiu Ya, his hips tucked in close in to Shen Qingqiu’s backside.

“Shizun, don’t leave me!” he had begged, slouching aggressively so that he could look up at Shen Qingqiu through his eyelashes, fat tears welling up. “Even an hour without Shizun is torture!” The tears fell. What a sticky disciple! But impossible to refuse. And after Luo Binghe completely failed at disguising his smug reaction with pious gratitude, his eyes had lit up with avarice when it was decided they would go by sword—he loved every excuse to shove dog food in everyone’s faces. A terror!

To be fair, he had kept Shen Qingqiu’s toes warm in the unexpectedly drafty bedroom of the guest quarters of whichever-sect-it was. And he had snuck into the kitchens, per usual, and bullied the cooks, preparing his extra-special meals for his Shizun. There certainly hadn’t been anything else for him to do at the meeting! As was often the case, all the righteous cultivators let their eyes skip over the Demon Lord in their midst. They certainly refused to see him carrying trays in the halls, fragrant steam in his wake, for every meal!

So no, no one had tried to fight his silly husband. Though on balance, the greatest risk to the peace between cultivator society and the demon kingdom was flying just to his right—his irascible shidi Liu Qingge.

If it was useless to send Shen Qingqiu to these negotiations, it was far worse to have sent Liu Qingge. What was Yue Qingyan thinking?? He only showed up to the first session, where he ignored all the discussion to glare daggers at Luo Binghe, who ignored him in favor of gazing at Shen Qingqiu softly, adding a happy little sigh every now and then. After the first recess, he hadn’t come back; not for the rest of the first day, nor the second or third. Given the tear in his sleeve and the dirt on his robe’s right hip, it was likely he had gone to spar, or hunt a monster. At least he rejoined their group for the closing ceremonies! Shidi, your appetite for action is too strong, too restless!

Shen Qingqiu looked forward to having nothing set on his schedule for at least a tenday—nothing that he himself didn’t choose, nothing that required anyone to visit his peak and disturb his rhythms. Just a few hours more on their swords, and back to real life. Well, PIDW real life. Which was real life now, he supposed.

He was lost in contemplation of Binghe’s planned dinner (he had grumbled about not finding an adequate piece of pork shoulder in their hosts kitchen) when Liu Qingge suddenly darted forward a few meters, body tensing, an intent look on his face as he stared down into the forest off to the right of their trajectory.

“Shidi, what is it?”

Luo Binghe perked up behind him, coming up out of his lazy slump. “Liu shishu, do you see something?”

“There!” Liu Qingge pointed, stabbing his fingers into the air. “There, I see it! I’m going after it!” Liu Qingge’s knees bent and then man and sword dropped into a steep dive.

“Going after what?! Liu shidi??” But it was too late, the terrier had seen a squirrel, it was only his nature! Qi Qingqi and Shang Qinghua had turned their heads to follow his dive into the trees, and then in unison—rare for those two!—they turned to look back at Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe, expectantly.

“What are you looking at us for??” Qi Qingqi’s eyes tracked over to where Liu Qingge had disappeared, and then placidly back to Shen Qingqiu. She raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, fine, we’ll… find him. You two go on ahead.”

Qi Qingqi inclined her head and turned away easily, the matter clearly already forgotten. Shang Qinghua had the courtesy to make a little “what can you do?” face, shrug, and then he, too, turned away—though less elegantly and a bit more quickly than Qi Qingqi. Hoping to get away with dumping this problem on Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe! Lazy author!

Shen Qingqiu sighed as he watched their two figures getting smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Why is Liu shishu suddenly shizun’s problem?” He ought to scold Luo Binghe for how disrespectful his tone was, but it was hard to do so when Shen Qingqiu had been thinking the same thing. Although it didn’t seem to be sudden. The other peak lords had been foisting the inevitable problems that resulted from his shidi’s attack first, ask questions never attitude onto Shen Qingqiu for years. A deep sigh pushed Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders back into Luo Binghe’s chest. He turned his head to catch his husband’s eye.

“Not just my problem, Binghe—yours, too. Did you see where he went?”

“All of Shizun’s problems are mine,” Luo Binghe murmured, smugly, tucking his chin over Shen Qingqiu’s right shoulder again, sneaking a kiss to the angle of his jaw. “There,” he pointed. Shen Qingqiu sighed again and began descending.

Thankfully, once they entered the forest, it was easy to see where Liu Qingge had been. The branches were all bent and broken, a shrub here or there uprooted or half-divested of its leaves. War god, yes; stealthy, no. They dismounted Xiu Ya to follow on foot.

It wasn’t long at all until they could hear signs of destruction as well. A crash, another series of sounds of trees being rent lab from limb, an unearthly hiss, and then… ominous silence. Shen Qingqiu exchanged a look with Luo Binghe and they picked up their pace.

The small clearing where Liu Qingge had caught up with his prey was still. At first, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t see him at all. Though this was mostly due to the ox-sized creature staring them down from the opposite side of the clearing, and how unbelievably hideous it was.

Its mouth was open wide, showing a disgusting set of sharp and day-glow orange teeth. Its ears were lime green, its rat-like tail a horrible puce, its bony toes and claws neon blue. And its great lumpy, furry body an appalling, eye searing fluorescent pink. It smelled of carrion and of… Davidoff Cool Water? What WAS this creature? By comparison, the still, prone body in front of it in silver and blue was easy to miss.

The creature hissed again, its beady eyes shining red. The movement called attention to its foul maw again, which was stained with red blood, matching the wound on Liu Qingge’s leg. Luo Binghe evidently noticed it before Shen Qingqiu did, because as Shen Qingqiu registered his shidi’s body and the blood on the monster’s teeth, Luo Binghe was leaping forward to engage it.

Shen Qingqiu had great confidence in his demonic husband’s powers, and allowed himself to pause in his own reflexive leap forward to tug on a strand of memory. The creature looked like a super-sized opossum that had stepped off of a Miami Vice set. What was its name? And what poison was affecting Liu Qingge so quickly and strongly?

The sound of Xin Mo being unsheathed made him look up—Binghe was edging closer to the monster, which was…. slowly scuttling backward? Hissing? As though to disengage? Luo Binghe carefully stepped past Liu Qingge’s still body and, having gained that defensive position, leapt forward again, sword upraised. Of course, at this very moment, Shen Qingqiu recalled the contorted and overwrought plot built on this monster—the Heavenly Fluorescent Whiptail Marsupial! Which wasn’t even a demon, but a minor and very strange forest god! Stop, protagonist, you’ve got it wrong!!!!

“Binghe!” He was able to shout, before the pair met in battle. Despite its bulk, the Marsupial dodged Xin Mo easily, and fast as lightening, nipped Binghe neatly in his off-hand’s forearm. Luo Binghe didn’t even have the chance to make a startled sound before he, too, dropped limply to the ground.

Shen Qingqiu picked up his robes a little and hustled to his limp husband’s side, falling to his knees respectfully, but waiting until he was sure Luo Binghe was breathing easily, slowly, fully, before turning back to face the Marsupial with his whole body. His husband was safe, alive, breathing. He looked over to Liu Qingge as well, and saw the same slow, graceful expansion and contraction, and let out his own deep breath.

“Please forgive my disciple and shidi, honored Whiptail Marsupial,” he called out. “Their ignorance must fall to my poor teaching. I apologize most sincerely for their unwarranted attacks on your heavenly person!”

The Marsupial’s narrow jaws finally closed as met his eyes with a bright carmine stare. Shen Qingqiu kept his hands loose and still, in full view. He held its intimidating gaze, holding his conviction that his companions were good, honorable men who had made a mistake firmly in his mind. After several moments, wherein Shen Qingqiu tried to slow his breath and keep very calm, the Marsupial blinked once and nodded its great pink head. Then it tipped up its jaw to look up into the branches of the tree it was backed up against, and chittered once.

One by one, variably hideously brightly colored tiny versions of the Marsupial hesitantly clawed their way down the trunk to trundle onto… their mother’s back! Oh, a mother! No wonder it had bitten so quickly. Shen Qingqiu hung his head, showing his shame freely. His unmannerly, rash shidi! And then his surprisingly proactive, rash husband! If only he had lingered by Shen Qingqiu a moment longer..

He could feel the weight of the forest god’s gaze on him, and despite himself he looked up to get another glimpse of the babies. He’d never seen them before, let alone a full-grown Whiptail Marsupial! They all smelled disgusting, and were sort of hard to look at, what with the weirdly skinny snouts, beady eyes, and rat-tails, but it was still very cute how they all settled in to cling to their mothers’ back, like big knots in a very ugly handmade carpet.

Mama Marsupial turned her attention to first Luo Binghe’s body, which had slid down onto his right side, his arm outstretched with Xin Mo fallen out of his open palm, and Shen Qingqiu’s gaze followed. He startled when he saw that Luo Binghe’s eyes were open, an expression of fear and worry in them. His mouth hung slack, however, until Mama M made a chiding clicking sound. Suddenly, the protagonist’s pink, pillowy lips began moving, and his facial features moved from slack paralysis to fervent anxiety.

“Shizun!! Are you ok???” He immediately called. But not even his neck moved, otherwise.

Shen Qingqiu rearranged his robes across his knees, shooting a look up at the giant sort-of mammal, concerned that she had only liberated Luo Binghe’s mouth from her poison.

“I'm fine, Binghe. But how could you act so rashly?? The Heavenly Marsupial meant us no harm. Do you know how many Black-Legged Spiral Awl Ticks it eats in one day? They are a blight on mankind, and the marsupial a blessing for controlling their population. Apologize!”

“My most humble apologies, Mistress Heavenly Marsupial,” Binghe intoned, rolling his eyes upwards to attempt to see the creature in question. “My hasty actions were in error. Please forgive this lowly ignorant demon.”

Mama Marsupial made a snorting noise, but Binghe remained sprawled on the ground last as he had been. She rolled her head further to glare at Liu Qingge. When Shen Qingqiu turned to him as well, he saw that Liu Qingge’s eyes were also open and furious, with a clod of earth and grass stuck in his wide-open mouth. She made the same clicking sound as before, and Liu Qingge spat out the dirt immediately, spitting again several times to clear his mouth. Then his pink, pillowy lips pursed up in an unpleasant, lemon-biting expression.

“Liu Qingge! Apologize!” Shen Qingqiu hissed. Wasn’t it obvious he had to?? What was this hasty man waiting for!

“I apologize most sincerely,” Liu Qingge said, shortly, but… well, sincerely. It was as good as it was going to get! Shen Qingqiu darted another look at Madam Marsupial, and caught her… sort of? Rolling her eyes? Though it was hard to tell? They were so beady? Shen Qingqiu jumped and widened his own eyes out of the squint they had fallen into trying to make out her expression when she turned to stare right at him.

Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure how she did it, but somehow with only her stare and an exasperated huff, she communicated to him that she was done with his foolish compatriots and he now was responsible for them. She turned away and her giant fuchsia haunches followed. One of the babies squeaked at them from her back as the whole group fell under the shadow of the trees.

Not ideal, not ideal! Shen Qingqiu had hoped his efforts and their apologies would lead Mother Possum to take pity on them and reverse her poisonous saliva’s curse! He stared at his two floppy companions unhappily. They stared back, also unhappily, but somewhat meekly. They knew he knew his creature lore, and that he was their best chance of curing them.

Shen Qingqiu cursed inside his mind; he did know, he was their best chance, and he very much did not like it, because of course, the cure was papapa, and worse, papapa with very specific rules.

Damn that pandering author! Shen Qingqiu recalled that the Special Valentine’s Chapter where the Heavenly Possum starred was in response to a wave of criticism from Airplane’s female fans (and, he admitted, himself) that the last thirty wives Binghe had taken had not had even a lick of romance or honest communication attempted before the down and dirty. It was getting stale, ok!? A reward for a beast slain, or a prize after an army defeated, or… sometimes literally falling from the sky into his lap! Could Binghe marry a wife for once because he really liked her?!

But to be honest, the chapter had been stilted and boring. He had written a lengthly critique. Why would you waste truth-compelling poisons on weak dialogue like “I want you!” And “I want you back!” And of course “Oh, it’s so big!” Of course it was big!! Tell us something new, wife of the week!!

Binghe’s mouth meanwhile had pursed into a pouty moue, his lower lip trembling. “Shizun!” He called. “I’m uncomfortable! There’s a stick under me! Help this poor disciple!”

“Quit your complaining, brat!” Liu Qingge snarled, and then spat again when he accidentally ate some more dirt clods, and then kept spitting, but thankfully not any more words.

How did it feel like it was really Shen Qingqiu Mama M was punishing him and not his sword-happy shidi and his overprotective husband?!

The less said about the trip home, the better. Shen Qingqiu was always grateful for his second life, and specifically for the beautiful, strong, healthy (perfectly so, now that the Without a Cure was cured) and ageless body he lived in, but never more than he was carrying an extremely large and OP muscled man under one arm, with an only slightly smaller and leaner man under the other… as they snarked and fought across his torso at each other. At least they couldn’t wiggle or unbalance him, limp and paralyzed as they remained! A very small mercy.

Luo Binghe had taken his shishu to task over his reckless flight after what turned out to be a benevolent and important ecological resource. “Reckless!” He had hissed, his beautiful wavy hair tousled by the breeze, and occasionally blown right into his mouth. Luo Binghe spat his now-wet and curling lock out. “How dare you inconvenience Shizun!”

“You are a constant inconvenience to him, you little beast!” LQE shot back, his peerlessly beautiful face marred a little by the smears of dirt still clinging to one side of his face. “Always hanging on to him! Making him carry you on his sword! Begging for his attention!”

“Shizun’s attention is more precious than gold! You don’t deserve it!” His husband retorted. Oh, they were going to notice the other part of the poison’s effects soon. Shen Qingqiu tried to speed up, but was really going about as fast as he could with more than thrice his own weight on his poor sword.

Binghe usually used some arcane method with his demonic powers to lighten his own weight when he rode bitch, snuggled behind Shen Qingqiu, on Xiu Ya. As Shen Qingqiu had huffed and grumbled trying to find the best way to carry his two loads of floppy himbo before they started back, Binghe had noticed he wasn’t able to access even his demonic powers.

“Shizun! I can’t access my qi!” He had yelped, into the back of Shen Qingqiu’s armpit, at the moment slung over his shoulder.

“I know, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu had sighed. “It’s part of the poison. You’re paralyzed, unable to access your qi, and…” he stopped. Probably best to avoid the rest until they were in private.

“And what?!” Liu Qingge demanded. Shen Qingqiu could only see the underside of his chin: he had Liu Qingge around the chest under his other arm, both his shidi’s arms dangling down below his shoulders ahead of them, his limp fingers almost touching the ground and flopping around whenever Shen Qingqiu shifted his weight.

“We’ll talk about it later! When we’re home! Stop being so difficult!” Shen Qingqiu snapped back. It was hard to keep your temper in a situation like this! Couldn’t they just behave?!

In the end, the most secure way to carry them was with an arm around each of them, at the level of their armpits, with their fronts smushed against his sides so he could hold onto Xiu Ya’s scabbard with each of his hands to let his arms cooperate in holding up their dead weights. A few minutes into the flight he realized he should have held them facing away from each other, but it was too late, he wasn’t setting them down again now!

It took threats of sealing their mouths with a spell, and then a bout of actually doing so, to get them both to settle into sullen silence. Shen Qingqiu felt warm from the exertion, but also probably a little from the fiery laser death glares the two chunks of prime beef were giving each other at his nipple level.

Finally they reached the bamboo house, Shen Qingqiu having used his and Luo Binghe’s usual sneaky path home to avoid the notice of his martial siblings and niblings. Shen Qingqiu backed them all awkwardly through the door after he kicked it open, much more gently than Liu Qingge ever did.

He set down Liu Qingge first against one wall, and then Luo Binghe beside him. Luo Binghe slid over slowly onto Liu Qingge’s drooped over head and when he made contact, Liu Qingge squawked, somewhat muffled by his own robes that his face was buried in. “Get off of me, you over-muscled, gorgeous, sexy demon!”

Luo Binghe had been already taking in a big breath to shout back, but at this last, he paused, mouth open, confused. “…what did you just call me?” He asked instead.

“Please, please just be quiet a moment more, and I will explain!” Shen Qingqiu begged. He shifted Luo Binghe to sit upright and propped Liu Qingge’s head back on the wall. Once they weren’t actively collapsing he stood carefully and stretched out his lower back and then his shoulders. Several joints popped. He opened his eyes again to see them both staring at him. He quailed. “…after I get some tea,” he added, and scuttled away into the kitchen.

Once there, he stared blankly at the cabinet. First, because it was years since he had had to make his own tea. His sticky disciple had a fresh pot ready, or some demonic minion hovering with one when he was busy, at all times.

Then, once he shook himself out of his initial stupor and found the pot and leaves and set the water to boil, he froze up again. How was he going to explain the poison’s remedy to Liu Qingge? Luo Binghe would likely be thrilled by learning about the cure, though Shen Qingqiu was uneasy about how the process would go, given the… truth-compelling nature of the poison. Considering further, he flinched. Honestly, it was going to be worse for Shen Qingqiu himself. Luo Binghe, poisoned, wouldn’t be able to help himself from being fully honest, which was uncomfortable enough; Shen Qingqiu would have to force himself to match honesty for honestly, or else the cure wouldn’t work! But of course, Shen Qingqiu thought, kicking at the legs of the stove, it was worse than just true words that were required. It was Open And Honest Communication, and he worried that aping the original wife from this plot and screeching about how big it was wouldn’t cut it. Shen Qingqiu sighed. He had yelled and begged and written screed after screed about the lack of a complex, interesting romance, with a wife with an interesting and complex history with Luo Binghe… and, well. Here it—he—was, emphasis on the complex.

Look, it was hard enough sometimes admitting that he wanted to be married to his husband, the handsomest and manliest man around!! More and more often lately, he caught himself biting his lips on sticky words that wanted to erupt during their… conjugal duties! And last month, it took him several days of feeling itchy and restless when Luo Binghe was stuck negotiating with a rebellion of eastern demons for a week to realize… it was because… he not only missed Luo Binghe’s culinary delights, but also his… connubial ones. His cheeks and ears felt hot. Luo Binghe was so sticky and loved to beg, so Shen Qingqiu never wanted for anything. Any moment that he felt the hint of desire, all he had to do was say yes instead of no to Luo Binghe’s constant offers, of sweets or a pillow or Binghe’s hot pillar grinding into his ass, and Luo Binghe would fall all over himself with gratitude and delight, and… provide.

So… it had happened that Shen Qingqiu had never had to ask for anything. Which was good, because he… wasn’t sure he could. And, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut, Binghe was always asking him. Did he want this, did he like that, was it good Shizun? Do you want me to do it like this, Shizun? Luo Binghe was used to taking a lack of answer as an affirmative answer, and never pressed—well, never too hard—for a verbal reply. But if he had to reply, and reply honestly, and openly… well. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure he could do it. Even if the alternative was a husband who couldn’t move anything besides his honeyed lips. And whose qi was locked…! Helpless…!

Argh.

The kettle boiled. He assembled a tray of cups, before realizing he would have to bring each cup to Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge’s lips for them to drink. Well, this was going to be terrible!

His mind had been skirting the thornier issue. At least Luo Binghe and he already had sex! Even if there would be… complications. But, what on earth were they going to do about Liu Qingge, the surliest and prickliest virgin of the peaks?! Who would he allow to do the deed?! He definitely couldn’t communicate either! It truly might kill him! He would qi deviate for sure even hearing about the cure.

He set the lid of the teapot in place, blocking the steam wafting from inside, and squared his shoulders to return and face the music.

One look at his recalcitrant charges assured him they had not obeyed his clear instructions and kept quiet. They hadn’t moved at all, of course, but Liu Qingge’s face was red and he was looking as far away from Luo Binghe as he could, given that he couldn’t move his head to turn his face away. Luo Binghe on the other hand, looked deeply betrayed. What had happened?!

“Binghe, Liu-shidi, let me give you some tea before I explain,” Shen Qingqiu said, kneeling at the table not far from their slumped and rumpled bodies. He poured, and knee-walked over to his husband with a cup first. He raised it to Luo Binghe’s lips, but instead of drinking, Luo Binghe spoke as though the words were bursting free against his will.

“Shizun, why did I tell Liu Qingge he is a peerless beauty and the best swordsman I know?” Luo Binghe blurted.

Shen Qingqiu settled back on his heels holding the teacup, sighing. Too late. “Because the poison prevents you from lying, and compels you to respond truthfully to questions,” he responded, exhausted by this conversation before it even began.

“I don’t want to tell Luo Binghe anything else!” Liu Qingge said. “I especially don’t want to tell him that I was very flattered that he said I was the greatest warrior of the Peaks and that he thought I was beautiful!” Liu Qingge’s mouth snapped shut after this last and his eyes widened in panic, and darted around the room, looking for aid. “And also,” he began, before a wild, determined light came into his eyes, and he actually and literally bit his tongue bloody. He couldn’t stop himself any other way! Oh no shidi!

“Ah, ah, ok! We didn’t hear you, shidi, don’t worry,” Shen Qingqiu said, hands raised in some sort of useless placating gesture. “Please, just listen and I will talk.” Shen Qingqiu looked down into the steaming teacup and gathered himself. A horrible gurgling sound came from Liu Qingge’s direction, so Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes tightly and forced himself to speak over it. “The poison can’t be cured until you… you…”

“What is it, Shizun?” Luo Binghe prompted. “Is it another one of the sex poisons?” He added, clearly thrilled at the thought.

“Sex poisons?!” Liu Qingge slur-shouted around his injured tongue. “What…?!”

“Yes! It is,” Shen Qingqiu managed, eyes still closed. “I’m so sorry shidi, but you won’t be able to move or control your speech until you… achieve, ah, climax with another.”

“So, very easy for us, shizun!” Luo Binghe added brightly. “We do that all the time! Or, roughly every three days. Or,” Shen Qingqiu squinted open his eyes at the note of panic entering Luo Binghe’s voice. “Or when I get myself hurt on purpose?! Or when I trick,” Luo Binghe clearly tried to choke on his own spit, and succeeded, stopping himself from speaking at least for the moment by continuing to cough. Shen Qingqiu had to stop this! To help him… shut up! Liu Qingge was making even worse choking sounds! They had to get out of here!

“Shidi! Husband!” Shen Qingqiu shouted, and both men stared at him in surprise, their mouths finally going slack in their surprise. “The poison requires sex with total honesty! Complete forthrightness and open communication! From both partners! Or else it doesn’t count! And won’t work!” Both of their faces registered dismay, Liu Qingge’s shaded with fear and loathing, Luo Binghe’s with fear and worry.

“Shidi, please, drink this!” Shen Qingqiu hustled forward and shoved the teacup meant for Luo Binghe up to Liu Qingge’s mouth. Liu Qingge stared at him, horrified, but understood the tactic and opened his mouth, sipping noisily at the tea to prevent it from doing anything else.

“Liu shidi, I am so sorry, but while Binghe and I… work on… curing him, can you please think of someone we can ask to help you? There is no other way.” Liu Qingge sputtered, some tea leaking from his mouth as he took a breath to respond, but then hurriedly reset his lips and slurped more liquid from the cup to drink. There! Crisis averted! Now all Shen Qingqiu had to do was scoop up his husband, take him to bed and…

“Liu shishu,” Binghe began, horror in his voice. Shen Qingqiu jerked to look at him, and his normally porcelain complexion was ruddy with the effort he was making—futilely—to stop his own mouth. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t sure what would come from it next, but it wasn’t good if even his husband’s thick and shameless face was slipping like this. Shen Qingqiu threw the teacup aside and leapt to scoop up his husband.

The jostling and surprise seemed to work! Luo Binghe grunted as he was thrown over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder as roughly as Shen Qingqiu could manage. In a few huge steps, lightened with qinggong, they had reached the bedroom door! Freedom!

“This Luo Binghe and his husband could probably cure you,” Luo Binghe erupted, strangled, from somewhere near Shen Qingqiu’s hip. Shen Qingqiu nearly dropped him in shock, but as he had reached the threshold of their bedroom, converted his fumble into a desperate toss which led to his husband sliding awkwardly to a stop, akimbo on the bed, and several pillows falling off the other side.

Shen Qingqiu quickly turned to slide the door closed—though made of paper, by necessity it had been charmed to be soundproof after their marriage—but he wasn’t fast enough to block out Liu Qingge’s strangled reply.

Unfortunately, Shen Qingqiu was making eye contact with poor Liu Qingge when he said it. Liu Qingge’s eyes were watering and his face was twisted up in so many emotions it was impossible to tell which he was feeling. “Fine!” his bloodied mouth said, and the bedroom door slid closed between them.

Shen Qingqiu had frozen, his back to his husband on the bed, hand still on the closed door. What to say?! What face to make?! His mind was a haze of static and error messages. But then he heard the first sob from the bed.

“Binghe, husband,” Shen Qingqiu said softly, turning, hurrying to the bed. Luo Binghe’s tear streaked face was turned up to the ceiling because of the awkward way he landed; his far arm outflung and turning him partially onto his back even though his near arm was trapped, twisted up under his torso. Shen Qingqiu climbed on the bed, going for Luo Binghe’s shoulders to rearrange him more comfortably on the bed.

“Shizun, I am so sorry,” Binghe gulped in between sobs. “I didn’t want to offer and I don’t want to mean it and I am so, so sorry!”

“Don’t worry, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said, stroking his cheek, wiping his tears. “Your shishu is a beautiful and frustrating man. Don’t worry about it. Let’s put it out of our minds for now, please, husband.”

“How can I put it out of my mind when I offered to betray you?!” Binghe howled, tormented.

“Hush,” Shen Qingqiu said. How to distract him?! They have to talk about something else! This line of conversation does not lead to orgasms, it leads to tears! Lacking another idea, Shen Qingqiu begins taking off his robes. If only it were as quick and easy as pulling off a T-shirt! Nipples were very good at distracting Binghe! But of course as Shen Qingqiu he wore so many layers!

“Shizun, shizun, I don’t deserve you, I am an inconvenience, Liu shishu was right!” Luo Binghe moaned. Curse these fiddly ties! He was only down two layers! Two more to go!

“Shizun… truly, I am a beast, and Shizun humors me and gives in to me and my… urges,” Luo Binghe wept. “And now he must do so again! To save this unworthy disciple! Again!”

Finally Shen Qingqiu made it to his innermost shirt and trousers, and ripped the shirt off over his head, as he would have as Shen Yuan instead of untying it properly… that is, if Shen Yuan had ever gotten any. He grabbed his husband’s face and, for lack of other inspiration, shoved his left nipple into Luo Binghe’s mouth. Startled, Luo Binghe stopped speaking, but just held him there, in his mouth, still taking hitching sobs around his mouthful. The air passed quickly over his wet skin when Luo Binghe inhaled made him shiver.

“I told you to hush, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu repeated. Somehow, this was a little easier, even awkwardly hunched over his supine and boneless husband’s face… probably because he couldn’t see that face or its gleaming wet puppy eyes. Shen Qingqiu mentally slapped his own face. Nothing but unvarnished honestly, no matter how embarrassing!

“Binghe isn’t an inconvenience. His urges are… welcome. This husband,” Shen Qingqiu paused, gathering his courage. “This husband loves Binghe and also… loves… sex with Binghe.” Afraid of any reply, Shen Qingqiu pressed his chest more firmly into Luo Binghe’s mouth. Not that Luo Binghe could resist at all! Though at least his tongue could move!

The silence was broken less and less with sobs. Luo Binghe’s mouth was able to stay closed around Shen Qingqiu more often. Slowly, Luo Binghe’s breathing slowed down, and they began to synchronize, breathing together.

“Now,” Shen Qingqiu began, his starchy instructing voice feeling ridiculous with his ass in the air, tit down on Luo Binghe’s face. “We both have to be careful. If we aren’t honest and… fully open with each other… ah, during, the poison won’t release Binghe. That means, don’t hold back saying… things that you want, even if you don’t think that I want them. And I will… be honest… also.” Shen Qingqiu’s speech awkwardly stumbled to a halt.

Finally, Shen Qingqiu lifted his torso up, and sat back on his knees, and looked poor Luo Binghe in the face. It was the same, incredibly handsome face he saw every morning and every night. The tears streaking his cheeks weren’t even novel. Shen Qingqiu held his gaze, considered, and said, “Nothing that Binghe wants is wrong, even if this husband doesn’t want the same,” he paused. “Don’t be afraid, husband,” he added. Luo Binghe, eyes pleading but calmer now, merely blinked his acknowledgement.

Shen Qingqiu heaved a breath. OK! They can do this! Easy! Same old bed, same old hips, same old pillar! Shen Qingqiu just had to undress Luo Binghe and then… prepare himself, when he’d never had to, himself… and then… cowgirl position?! For… hours?! He concentrated furiously on opening Luo Binghe’s robes. Shen Qingqiu had died for Luo Binghe before, he could do this. He could do this!

Shen Qingqiu got down to Luo Binghe’s beautiful, muscled chest. Luo Binghe’s breathing was still abnormally fast, abnormally deep—from anxiety? Horniness? Shen Qingqiu watched his abs flex, golden and perfect, as he breathed. What a stupid but merciful poison, to preserve all the muscle movements to keep Luo Binghe alive, but prevent him being able to even turn his head.

Of course, Shang Qinghua didn’t want sex scenes with corpses, so of course the poison made no neurologic sense. Shen Qingqiu rested his hand at the front of Luo Binghe’s strong neck, not looking above his chin, and stared at where he himself (Shen Yuan that is) had previously been marked with a scar. His hand slid down, catching first on Luo Binghe’s beautiful collarbones, and then on his right nipple, and then each hill and valley of his eight-pack. By the time he had died, Shen Yuan had had the use of his arms and hands back for years, but his legs were still weak, despite even more years of physical therapy. He had gotten back the ability to breathe on his own in the rehab hospital slowly, as the Guillan Barré receded.

Thank god (this one time!!) for Shang Qinghua’s nonsense papapa poisons and lack of medical knowledge. Honesty curses were painful, but watching his beautiful husband’s body breathe on its own was… important. He had been avoiding thinking about the paralysis. He didn’t want to think about it. It would be gone soon enough, a problem with a solution. Onward!

Shen Qingqiu finally looked up at Luo Binghe’s face. He was biting his lower lip, but not bloody. He wasn’t crying. They were ok. Time to move on!

Keeping eye contact, Shen Qingqiu began opening Luo Binghe’s pants. He pushed them down just below his husbands’ hips; no point in struggling to get them off his stupid heavy, muscled legs for this. Knowing he was blushing, Shen Qingqiu met Luo Binghe’s eyes again, and reached out a hand, blindly, and stroked his hardening pillar. He snickered to himself in his own head. Ol’ reliable! No physical or emotional trauma can interfere with this pillar!

Giving it a final pat on the dampening head, Shen Qingqiu climbed off the bed to take off his own pants. He stepped closer to the bedside cabinet, and took out the… well, frankly, very big pot of lube. When he turned back to the bed, Luo Binghe was looking up at him in anguish, his lower lip white under his blunt front teeth, and pricked by his small canine fangs. A drop of blood welled up from one. This man!! Shen Qingqiu dropped to the bed beside Luo Binghe’s glorious torso on his knees.

“Binghe, what is it,” Shen Qingqiu murmured, stroking his husband’s hair. “You can’t hold back, I told you. Don’t worry, I’ll love you no matter what you say. But you have to be honest with me now.” Shen Qingqiu scooped up some lube with two fingers and started to reach behind himself.

A crystal tear slid out of Luo Binghe’s eye. “Shizun, I’m sorry,” Luo Binghe breathed. His eyes had tracked Shen Qingqiu’s lube hand and were now watching the movement of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, since the hand and arm were out of sight behind him. “Shizun, you don’t have to, but I really wish you would… put it inside.”

Shen Qingqiu laughed softly. “Don’t worry, Binghe, I know how to put it inside. Even without your help, I’ll manage it! You’ve shown me enough times how.” It was strange, stretching his own ass. The feelings coming from… inside were similar—not the same, the angle was different, his fingers slimmer than Luo Binghe’s—but never before had his fingers experienced something like this! The… the ring of muscle itself, was like what he expected, and felt on his fingers what it seemed it should. It relaxed and contracted—rather, Shen Qingqiu relaxed and contracted—and it felt tighter and looser on his two fingers. But past the ring—no longer was each move of his hand exactly corresponding to a feeling inside his body. It was muted—less specific? But he hadn’t yet—hadn’t found his prostate.

He knew what it was when Binghe found it. It was hard to avoid learning about it on the internet… when he had accidentally… oh, give it up Shen Yuan, he told himself. He had read about it. He had learned about it on purpose. He hadn’t had a good explanation for why back then—though he’d certainly made some up—and he had never… tried it, not on himself, and since transmigrating he hadn’t, either. But he knew where to reach for, and he knew he liked it. Could he reach it himself?

He closed his eyes and reached farther, arching his back, but his hand was the wrong way around with his arm behind his back, his fingers could only curve backwards instead of forwards; attempts at flicking his fingertips forward were uncomfortable. He knelt up and switched his hand—brought it around to the front of his body, pulled his balls up, snuggled against his hard cock, and reached in from the front. His shoulders hunched over and his head fell forward, following his arm down… could he reach? His fingers as Shen Qingqiu were long. Was that…?

It was.

It felt… he tossed his head back, feeling strangely proud, expecting Luo Binghe’s hungry gaze and wide smile when he opened his eyes. But instead, Luo Binghe was…

Luo Binghe was biting his lip again. He did look hungry, a warm sex flush on his cheeks, his pupils dilated. But he was stopping himself from saying something! Again!

“Binghe, my Binghe, what is it?” Shen Qingqiu whispered. “Do you not like watching me?”

“Oh Shizun, no,” Luo Binghe whispered. “I love it. Shizun is so beautiful. This one is so privileged to see such a sight,” Luo Binghe stopped abruptly, biting his lip again.

“But?” Shen Qingqiu asked, holding the two fingers he’d worked inside himself still. “Please, Binghe, I want to cure you! You must tell me.”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe breathed, closing his eyes. “Shizun, I want you to put it… inside… me. You… inside me. If you don’t want that, it’s fine. I love being inside you, it feels so good. And if… if you like it too… if you aren’t just doing it to cure me… then, it’s fine. I don’t need anything else.”

Shen Qingqiu paused. The poison compelled truth. His Binghe wasn’t lying to him. Of course he knew Binghe loved fucking him. That was clear. And he needed to make sure that Luo Binghe knew that Shen Qingqiu also, he also loved… being fucked. But did Luo Binghe really…? The stallion protagonist, he really…?

“I don’t only want to do it to cure you,” Shen Qingqiu managed. This was the easiest truth. And it was still so hard! He hadn’t said it in the whole year they’d been fucking! “I do, I do like it. I like it very much,” he paused.

Shen Qingqiu stared at Luo Binghe who had taken a sharp, quick breath at “like it.” And seemed to be… holding it. Waiting. Staring. Hopefully?

What more did he want?! What more could he say?!

Luo Binghe let out his held breath. “This Luo Binghe is so happy,” he stopped, tears again glistening in his eyes, but did look… happy. A little.

“This Luo Binghe is so grateful,” he added, looking down, down Shen Qingqiu’s body, catching and then determinedly looking past Shen Qingqiu’s cock, which, despite his existential confusion and embarrassment, was still hard and pulsing every now and then, as Shen Qingqiu’s pelvic muscles twitched occasionally around his own fingers, still stuck, awkwardly, in his own ass.

“This Shen Qingqiu is also grateful and happy to be with his… beloved husband,” Shen Qingqiu ground out. “But I…” Luo Binghe’s eyes snapped back up to his. Shen Qingqiu’s mouth opened and shut. Well!!! Honesty!!! The only way forward!!!

“Binghe, I don’t know how to… put it in. I’m sure I’ll be… bad at it. I don’t want to hurt you,” Shen Qingqiu whispered.

“Like I hurt you,” Luo Binghe whispered back, lip wobbling, staring determinedly at Shen Qingqiu’s right knee.

“No!” Shen Qingqiu said. But! Cursed poison! Damn it! “Yes. But Binghe doesn’t hurt me any more. And even when he does… I like it. Please don’t worry about that, Binghe. I’m happy to… take Binghe inside. I love it, even when it’s… difficult.” Binghe nodded, blinking, but kept staring at his knee.

“I know I’m not poisoned myself, but I want to cure Binghe, and I swear, I wouldn’t lie, I can’t lie,” Shen Qingqiu added. “Please believe me.”

“I believe you,” Luo Binghe said. And!! Bit his lip!!! Again!!! What else!!

Exasperated, Shen Qingqiu pulled his fingers out—yowch!—and slapped his lube-y hand down on the knee Binghe was staring at, instead of meeting his eye. “Binghe! Spit it out!”

“This Luo Binghe just wants to know if, even if shizun doesn’t know how, if he ever wanted to, or might want to… try.” Binghe looked up, met his eyes quickly, before returning his solemn stare to the shiny fingers on his bent knee.

“I… this…” Well, does he? Has he? Imagined pushing the protagonist down and taking him, papapa, etc?

“Because I would love it, I am sure of it,” Binghe broke in. “Even if It hurt. Maybe even especially if it hurt. I want to watch when I make shizun feel good, like when I suck him. But I want, even more, for shizun to… want me.”

“Oh, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said. This incurable M! Of course he would like it even if it hurt.

Shen Qingqiu tried to picture it… Luo Binghe’s beautiful face, dripping tears, eyes huge, but with his head flat on the bed, hair a curly halo spread around it, mouth open, chin tilting back, as… as… well, fine. Sure. He was thinking about it. He could want it. Him. Binghe.

“Yes, Binghe… we can try that. I could want that,” Shen Qingqiu said. Binghe raised his eyes once more, eyebrows drawing together with a look of such hope. “And I do, always, want Binghe. But let’s not try today!” Shen Qingqiu added, slipping his fingers back in. “Today we have to be sure you come! Today is not the time for experiments.”

“I’m sure I would come!” Binghe broke in. “I come so fast when I imagine it, and use my own fingers! So much faster than any other way! Please, Shizun, I promise!” Instead of biting his lip to keep the words inside, Luo Binghe let his mouth drop open, and his eyes were going distant as though he was… imagining it? Shen Qingqiu glanced down at his heavenly pillar, which was indeed hard, and also deeply… purple. Like it got later on, after a few switches of position, toward… the end. So maybe… he was telling the truth?

Shen Qingqiu mentally slapped himself again, this time once on each cheek. Of course he was telling the truth!! He was poisoned with truth compelling poison!!! Shen Qingqiu had indeed been worried about how long he would have to ride Luo Binghe before the curative climax could be reached. It always took a long time! And how many awkward conversations could they get themselves into during that time?! Where they had to tell the truth, or try all over again?!

“Ok, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said softly. “Ok. Let’s… try it.” Binghe snapped out of what was clearly an elaborate fantasy and looked as startled and shocked as he could, without moving anything except his face.

“Shizun means it? Really?” He breathed, hope rising in his face.

“Yes, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t!” He pulled his fingers out again, leaving his hole wet but not… fully… ready, and he started to wipe them on the sheet, but caught Luo Binghe staring at them with avarice. Well… I suppose they were lubed up already? Might as well… recycle?!

Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe turned their eyes together to Luo Binghe’s body, which was as hard and dripping and beautiful and perfect as it always was. Ready for fucking. But not ready for… being fucked? Also, Luo Binghe couldn’t move his legs? And the sheets were slippery. They needed… some mobility aids. But despite the vast improvements to Shen Qingqiu’s life since he stopped being Shen Yuan and came to this world, it was one definitely without physical or occupational therapists. Or wheelchairs. Or adaptive equipment, like the tools Shen Yuan had used to dress himself and put on his shoes.

Well, they’d manage! They were cultivators! Shen Qingqiu had carried him miles and miles flying on a magic sword! Plus Liu Qingge! Surely he could figure out how to fuck him!

“Shizun, just spread my legs apart,” Luo Binghe said, hushed, encouraging, strangely tentative. He looked apprehensive, like… maybe Shen Qingqiu would give up. On fulfilling the small request he had made… to get fucked, for once. Something that Shen Qingqiu had forced himself to admit—out loud! To Luo Binghe himself!—that he, himself, loved!

“I won’t give up, Binghe, don’t worry,” Shen Qingqiu said, more confidently than he felt. He put his clean left hand on the inside of Luo Binghe’s usually hard-muscled left thigh, which was now… soft. Weighty, hefty, with muscle and the promise of power, but… quiescent. His lubed hand he twisted to put his wrist on the inside surface of Luo Binghe’s other thigh. And he… pushed.

Luo Binghe’s legs spread easily, with no resistance other than their weight, which while substantial in real kilos but was a trifle to Shen Qingqiu’s cultivator strength. Luo Binghe was, of course, perfect, and so despite his bulk remained extremely… flexible. His legs quickly were spread enough that Shen Qingqiu had to knee over each leg to crouch in-between them… and then, when he experimentally pushed them further apart, they kept going, easy as anything. Shen Qingqiu stopped before actually making Luo Binghe do the splits in bed, but he felt certain he could have. “Binghe,” he asked. “Are you comfortable? Is it too much?”

“No, Shizun, it’s perfect,” Luo Binghe breathed. In fact, he was breathing very hard. He was just so obvious! In all his desires! How had Shen Qingqiu not known Luo Binghe also wanted this? Was it that Shen Qingqiu was blind, or Luo Binghe hiding? Or both…?

“Shizun can touch,” Luo Binghe added. “Please… please, Shizun can.” The motion of his abs, his deep belly breathing, had started just the slightest reciprocal… jiggle, in his cock and his sac. Shen Qingqiu reached out with his dry left hand for that familiar cock, so hard, so big. It leapt into his hand, as usual. Luo Binghe shuddered as he stroked it slowly, up and down, lightly, not getting serious like he had to if he really wanted Luo Binghe to come. Although… Shen Qingqiu side eyed the notorious pillar. Still purple! Still spitting pre-come like crazy! Well, at least Shen Qingqiu could tell Luo Binghe was into this.

“No!” Luo Binghe moaned. Shen Qingqiu froze. “I mean yes, please touch me! But not there, shizun. Lower, please, you know what I want.” This time, it was clear the lip-biting was coquetteish. Shen Qingqiu felt sure that if he could, Luo Binghe would be tossing his head from side to side begging with his whole body, wriggling his hips to beckon for more, subtly taking charge, putting Shen Qingqiu’s hands where he wanted them. But he couldn’t; he was poisoned. So instead, Shen Qingqiu had to.

He slipped his left hand down the length of Luo Binghe’s cock and flat down the surface of his sac. When he got to Luo Binghe’s balls, he pushed them apart slightly, and then when his fingers met the end of the sac, he… lifted it. Like he had so recently lifted his own. And then, with his magically-still-lubed up right, he… slid his fingers into Luo Binghe’s crack.

“Oh!” Luo Binghe said, loudly. “Oh! Yes, yes, please!” Settle down, Binghe! Not even a finger inside yet! Be patient!

But when Shen Qingqiu did reach Luo Binghe’s hole, and paused, Luo Binghe started begging even louder, and with even less shame. “Yes yes yes! Right there, please, put them in, please! Oh, shizun, please!”

“Stop calling me Shizun!” Shen Qingqiu muttered, totally aware this was likely the 37th shizun of the day, and only the first he rebuked. But he relented, and he slipped his two fingers… inside.

“Ahhh!” Luo Binghe called from up north somewhere on the bed. Shen Qingqiu was focused on his task. It felt… it felt exactly… exactly like his own had felt. The same loosening and tightening, the same softness after, the same heat. Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes. Could he… could he also… reach? He slid his two fingers in further, to the joint with his palm. He stretched his third finger, outside Luo Binghe’s body and awkwardly in the way, into a tighter curl, pressed it down into his palm to reach farther… was that it? It seemed impossible to contemplate. The protagonist’s prostate! Or… was…

It definitely was. Luo Binghe yelled. Shen Qingqiu’s fingers jerked away, in surprise at how loud he was. “No no no shizun no, don’t stop!” Luo Binghe begged. “Please, do it again, touch it, touch me! Oh, please!” Tears were streaking out from his husband’s eyes, his face so red. But so very different from before, when he was so upset and ashamed…

Shen Qingqiu dropped his fingers back flat against the back wall of Luo Binghe’s… inside. He reached as far as he could, uh, in… and then he… pressed up… and trailed his two fingers….outward?

Another scream! Shen Qingqiu was giddy. He repeated the same lingering pass. Then a faster one, two. Each effort was… rewarded. He kept thrusting, scissoring. He was sure if Luo Binghe could move he would have kicked his legs and beat his fists on the bed. As it was, his heavy, lovely thighs stayed soft and easy, spread wide, motionless. Shen Qingqiu let Luo Binghe’s begging wash over him like it did when Luo Binghe was really giving it to him and he felt half ascended to a higher plane, though of course, nothing was currently touching Shen Qingqiu’s own… anything. Maybe Luo Binghe was right… maybe this would be… faster?

Shen Qingqiu cast his eyes downward, skeptically eyeballing his own hard cock. How many…? Probably one more finger would do it. He huffed. This was certainly simpler without a heavenly sky pillar for which to plan logistics. He slipped his ring finger in with the other two at the next thrust, after a last slow, trailing, prostate-stroking withdrawal. Luo Binghe took the increased girth easily. The begging only increased in volume and fervor. He was… ready?

“Binghe,” he called. “Binghe, are you ready?” Was that really Shen Qingqiu’s own voice?!

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Shizun, yes. Put it in, oh please, please fuck me!” It really was incongruous, to see the expressions on his Binghe’s face, hear the desperation in his voice, without the usual full body, uh, movements.

And, well, that was a clear request—an unequivocal “go ahead.” Shen Qingqiu pulled his fingers out and shuffled forward on his knees. The closer his body got to Luo Binghe’s the more concerned Shen Qingqiu grew. How did Binghe usually do this? The angle… maybe legs up, knees on his shoulders?

He hefted one thick meaty leg up onto his shoulder, which pulled Luo Binghe’s ass up, into view. It was… such a fine ass. So beautiful. Juicy, even. Monumental. He shifted, trying to line up his hips with Luo Binghe’s. The ass jiggled, invitingly. But his torso… Shen Qingqiu was a little too short for this to work? Or maybe… he tried to heft the other leg up onto the other shoulder, pulling Luo Binghe’s hips off the bed entirely and bringing his ass up hard against Shen Qingqiu’s cock. Luo Binghe… moaned ecstatically. It was going to happen! It was lining up! It was…!

The first leg slid off his shoulder, limp. Shen Qingqiu tried to catch it, bending to the right, and the left leg slid off the other shoulder. Ah, foiled! Binghe sobbed, denied. Shen Qingqiu was stumped. Normally, with his own legs over Luo Binghe’s shoulders, it was fine! But he supposed he was holding on then, or at least resisting falling off. Luo Binghe, no matter how much he wanted to hold on, couldn’t.

Don’t give up Shen Qingqiu!! You can you up! Luo Binghe is counting on you!

He picked up one of Luo Binghe’s legs, and tried to prop it up with the knee bent. It slid down again. He laid it out flat, like in a frogleg stretch. It stayed, but the place he needed… was still… hidden, shadowed—behind. Curse the fullness and epic roundness of the protagonist booty! It protected its hidden treasure too well! How was Shen Qingqiu supposed to get his hips in there?? This was too advanced! Why did he think this was a good idea?!

“Shizun….” Luo Binghe moaned.

“Binghe, I’m sorry… I don’t know what to do, I can’t seem to… ah, fit. How would you… How…?”

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe said, waveringly. Shen Qingqiu looked up at him. His eyes were closed? Tightly? Squeezed shut, in fact?

“Shizun, reach under my side of the bed please. There is a… box.”

Warily, Shen Qingqiu let go of Luo Binghe’s leg again; it flopped down flat on the mattress. He kept his eyes on his husband’s blushing face as he found the box with his finger tips, drew it out from under the bed. He had not seen this box before. This was concerning.

He opened it. Inside were… immortal binding cables. “Binghe, what…”

“You can tie up my legs, Shizun. Shizun, please… I need it. I’ll tell you how. Please!” His voice was getting rougher again, more desperate.

Shen Qingqiu touched with one finger, and then picked up, the first coil of rope. “Ok, Binghe, calm down! Tell me how.”

Haltingly, Luo Binghe explained. At his direction, Shen Qingqiu tied a looped cable around each thigh, in the pit just above each knee. He threaded the other end of one of the ropes behind Luo Binghe’s shaggy head, careful to pick up his hair and spread it on the pillow above the rope, and pulled it over the opposite shoulder. He propped up the now-suspended leg with his hip and tied the over-shoulder rope to the opposite leg and… pulled the rope tight, cinching it down. He repeated the process on the other side, and when he had finished… Luo Binghe was staring straight at the ceiling, breathing hard, arms spread out at shoulder level, lax, and with his knees wide and hovering over his quivering abs, baring his… his… everything! With the lube still glistening! His hips rotated up, his cheeks, uh, wide, everything… accessible! Blindingly so!

“Binghe, did you want… uh, were you planning on tying up… this master?” Shen Qingqiu murmured, trailing his hands down one spread thigh, sliding behind the heavy sac…

“Oh Shizun, no, not you… this disciple… has fantasized… ever since that time, in those days, with the Skinner demon, about instead… being the one tied up…”

Shen Qingqiu felt he should be shocked… but somehow, he wasn’t. All this time. “And…?” He prompted.

“And!” Binghe shouted, as Shen Qingqiu slid his three fingers inside slowly, gently. “And! This wicked disciple dreamed… he looked at spring books, woodcuts and…. Dreamed of…”

“Of this, Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu murmured, as his fingers thrust in. “Did you dream of this?” Somehow, Shen Qingqiu felt calm. How was he speaking so calmly?! He felt like he was looking at a character in a play, in a book, acting smooth, pushing this stallion protagonist’s…. legs… up….

But it was his, Shen Qingqiu’s—né Shen Yuan—own fingers inside. His real fingers, in the body he really inhabited, in real life. He felt each nerve from their skin, the slight grind of his knuckles together as his three fingers passed the, uh, ring of the… flower? He twitched them upwards—he decided to do it in his mind, and his body obeyed—and in response Luo Binghe yelped again, just as he had before.

“Yes!” Binghe sobbed. “Yes, shizun, I did; of exactly this. Exactly this! Yes, please, shizun, do it! Please!”

“All right, husband,” Shen Qingqiu replied, softly. Confidently? Maybe? Sure! He grabbed two of the pillows from the floor and hefted Luo Binghe’s spectacular ass up and shoved them under him. And he knelt up… and he…

“Shizun, yes!!!” Binghe called. “Oh, it feels so good, please, please, more!”

Shen Qingqiu experimentally circled his hips. He pulled back, he thrust forward. Luo Binghe wept and cried, overcome. Was he hitting it? Surely not so easily? But Binghe, uh… seemed to…

He thrust again, and then again, and then… built up a rhythm? And Luo Binghe just… kept… losing his mind. His heavenly sky pillar, waving proudly like a planted flag, was jerking with every thrust, gobs and jobs of precome spilling from it, trailing down onto his belly, between his legs, where… where Shen Qingqiu was… where he kept…

And it did feel so, so unbelievably good; somehow Shen Qingqiu had, for some reason, never really imagined how it felt, but if he had, it wouldn’t have done the real feeling justice. Not just the feeling in his cock, which was… uh.

The feeling of holding Luo Binghe, of thrusting his hips, the hard slap when he bottomed out and the reverberation of force that Luo Binghe’s heavy body returned—ecstasy. His fingers kneaded on Luo Binghe’s hips, the outside of his strong thighs, slipped down under to cup his round cheeks. Shen Qingqiu watched Luo Binghe’s face, the wide open mouth, the movement of his tongue and lips as he cried out. It was—better than any porn he had ever seen, in his old life. That was—cold, and alone. This was—this was…

Shen Qingqiu was sure his own face was shocked stupid, slack, dumb; he felt his mouth open, he felt his immortal body’s chest hauling in deep breaths like he was running for his life. His hips were speeding up; his own, new, strong hips. Luo Binghe finally opened his eyes and locked them on Shen Qingqiu. He swallowed, gathering himself, though his head still rocked, jolting, from what Shen Qingqiu was doing to him.

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe moaned, “Shizun, I’m going to come! Please don’t stop, please, please!”

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu gasped. “Beloved. My Binghe. Of course I won’t stop.” Shen Qingqiu let go of Luo Binghe’s delicious ass with his right hand and reached for his cock instead.

Luo Binghe sobbed and his pillar jerked. Shen Qingqiu barely touched it—only rested his fingers on the shaft, preparing to really take it in hand—and Luo Binghe came. Great spurting jerks of his pillar! And inside! Oh god, inside he rippled and tightened, rhythmic! Shen Qingqiu watched him come and felt the same pattern on his cock inside. It was mesmerizing! Fantastic! It was…! He closed his eyes and sped up, feeling that he could come very soon, he just needed a little more…

Suddenly Luo Binghe’s hands were on his face, his shoulder, grabbing, pulling. The cure, he had… Luo Binghe was cured! The hands pulled him down, pulled his chest hard against the ropes he’d tied Luo Binghe up with, the hand on his shoulder sliding down his back, to his ass, pulling him in, holding him there, sliding in their sweat.

Shen Qingqiu gulped and opened his eyes. Luo Binghe was there, sweaty, smiling, beautiful. The big warm hand on Shen Qingqiu’s face pulled him down further, to his mouth, to kiss him. Then it slid around, into Shen Qingqiu’s hair, which had fallen down a little from its ties. Held him tight. Soft, open kisses, no urgency. Luo Binghe’s legs, no longer propped up by the ropes alone, tightened around his lower back. Shen Qingqiu felt Luo Binghe’s feet cross. He was wrapped up tight. Held tight.

Somehow Shen Qingqiu’s eyes had closed again. Luo Binghe pulled his head back, made space between their lips. “Shizun…” he whispered.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu panted. “Binghe, I’m so glad it worked. Oh, thank god.” Luo Binghe didn’t loosen his grasp on any part of Shen Qingqiu. They heaved for breath together, slowing down as they had before, when Luo Binghe was panicking. “Let’s get you out of these cables, ok?” Shen Qingqiu pulled gently against Luo Binghe’s hold.

“But Shizun,” Luo Binghe whispered again, eyes so delighted, so bright, and not letting go remotely, not in the least. “You can’t stop now. You have to come inside. Please,” he said.

“I don’t… need to,” Shen Qingqiu hazarded a glance at Luo Binghe’s face. His eyes had closed. He was smiling. He was… smug? No, just satisfied. A big, warm cat with the cream. Well… not with the cream… yet.

“No,” Binghe said. “You don’t. But I want you to. Honest,” he added, smiling wider, his eyes crinkling with it. He slid his hand out of Shen Qingqiu’s hair, down to the front of his chest, pushed him upright. Kept the other hand square on Shen Qingqiu’s ass, holding him… inside.

Once he was upright, Luo Binghe let go of his chest to grab Shen Qingqiu’s ass with both hands. And then he… pushed, and then pulled… he fucked Shen Qingqiu in and out of himself! Looking him straight in the eye!

“Please continue what you were doing, shizun,” Luo Binghe said, quite seriously for how wide his smile was. “I really am enjoying it.”

Shen Qingqiu faltered once, when Luo Binghe stopped moving his hips, but recovered with another little push. It did feel… amazing. And now Luo Binghe was reacting with his whole body, not just his face. His heels, crossed just above Shen Qingqiu’s ass, flexed and pulled him in at the end of his thrusts. Luo Binghe’s hands roamed over his chest, his neck, his sides. Shen Qingqiu watched him tip his head back, turn it over to the right, his smile opening up. Shen Qingqiu gave him a hard thrust, watching, feeling intently. Luo Binghe’s mouth dropped open and his hands spasmed, his nails digging in to Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks.

“Yes, like that. Yes, shizun, please,” he called, softly, easily. Not like the frantic begging from before, but still… demanding somehow?

Shen Qingqiu mentally shrugged and let himself… enjoy it. He let his hips go, speed up, smack like they had before… before Luo Binghe was cured. Luo Binghe kept purring out encouragement, started pulling with his legs again. And so…. And so….

Shen Qingqiu put a hand out to brace himself on Luo Binghe’s chest when he started to come, but it slid in the sweat on his hard, tensed up pec, but Luo Binghe caught his torso and eased him down as Shen Qingqiu’s hips kept working deep, in grinding thrusts as he…

Luo Binghe kissed his forehead. Shen Qingqiu was rolled over. The ropes were… untied? Gone? Luo Binghe was peppering his face with kisses, was wiping him off with a towel from the bedside supply.

“Sleep, shizun,” he heard. And he slept.

When Shen Qingqiu awoke, it was to a new feeling—the deep satisfaction of recent good sex, but no… ah, internal soreness when he reflexively stretched his legs out. Was this how Luo Binghe felt all the time?!

Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes and turned to look at his Binghe, whose body was curled on his side, paired knees tucked up against Shen Qingqiu’s hip. His husband was awake, and shamelessly staring. As usual!

“How does shizun feel?” Luo Binghe asked, in a soft, intimate tone, his beautiful face serious. “Regrets?”

“Of course not,” Shen Qingqiu sputtered. “Unless Binghe has… regrets?” Was Luo Binghe feeling the asshole soreness?! Hopefully not for long if so… the parasites should fix it quickly…

Luo Binghe buried his face in the space beside Shen Qingqiu’s neck. “No, never,” he breathed. “I want shizun to put it inside every day. Twice a day. Whenever he is willing. This Luo Binghe will always want it,” he whispered.

Was this truth?? Could it be?! The poison was gone, as evidenced by the rooting, snuggling motions Luo Binghe kept making, trying to nuzzle ever closer with every part of his body. He wasn’t required to tell the truth… but, to what end would he lie? Why would Luo Binghe softly ask to be fucked every day if he didn’t actually want it? It was clear he had wanted it this time, and it had gone very, very… well… better than Shen Qingqiu could have ever imagined, ever. Quick to everyone’s satisfaction… minimal… awkward conversation… Awkward…

Oh no, they had forgotten about Liu Qingge! Who was still outside! Paralyzed and helpless! Shen Qingqiu struggled in Luo Binghe’s arms to sit up.

“Binghe, how long have we slept?! Your shishu is outside, helpless!” Shen Qingqiu cried, pushing and slapping at Luo Binghe’s arms, which reluctantly and lingeringly let him go.

“Not long. An incense stick, no longer. It was just a little nap. And shizun deserved it, he worked so hard for this grateful husband,” and there he went, biting his lip again. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed.

“Binghe, what now? You’re not compelled to be honest by the Marsupial poison… but I hope you feel now that you… can be,” Shen Qingqiu entreated.

“This lowly once just wants to make sure that his request wasn’t too great an imposition,” Binghe paused, eyes searching Shen Qingqiu’s face. “Did shizun… did my husband… enjoy himself?”

ARGH. How dare he! But… didn’t Luo Binghe say that was part of why he wanted it? So he could see Shen Qingqiu enjoying himself, see him… wanting it? Surely he already knew! Surely Shen Qingqiu didn’t have to say it, out loud!

The lip remained bitten. The eyes at least were dry. And… well… perhaps honest communication wasn’t so bad? FINE.

“I did, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu managed, eyes closed with the effort. Luo Binghe’s hand convulsed in his. When did he take his hand?!

Shen Qingqiu drummed up his courage and looked his husband straight in the eyes. Eyes that were thrilled! But also damp.

“This husband liked it very much, and is willing to do it again… sometime.” Luo Binghe managed a watery smile, and kissed their joined hands. “But now we have to deal with getting Liu Qingge cured!”

The smile soured. Luo Binghe sat up. “Do we have to,” he muttered, looking down at his free hand, fiddling with the linens.

“Of course we do! And we need a plan,” Shen Qingqiu added. “This is not going to be easy.” Shen Qingqiu eyed his husband, who was still looking down. “Any ideas?”

Luo Binghe stubbornly refused to look up. “Can’t we leave him like this,” Luo Binghe asked, flatly.

“Of course we can’t! And don’t think I forgot what you said earlier, to him,” Shen Qingqiu added, carefully. “This master has been pleasantly surprised by the results of our… forced honesty. Don’t you agree that it went very well for us? Didn’t you just ask for…? And I…?” Shen Qingqiu trailed off, stymied. Look, he was trying, ok?!

“… so let’s keep being honest with each other, please, Binghe? Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fine,” Luo Binghe muttered. “But he will want you to do it. And I don’t want you to.”

Shen Qingqiu paused. How to… well, let’s just be honest. “Binghe, didn’t you… already offer me to him?” Without asking! But of course Luo Binghe had been compelled to speak… but still!

“No!” Binghe snapped, now suddenly willing to make eye contact. Fiery eye contact! “No, I didn’t,” he finished, somewhat… weakly?

“Binghe, I heard you. You were under a truth compelling poison. Don’t lie to me now,” Shen Qingqiu pleaded.

“This husband didn’t offer you up,” Luo Binghe began, staring again at Shen Qingqiu’s right knee. What! Was! This with the knee! Shen Qingqiu’s hand twitched, suppressing a “keep going!” flap.

“This husband offered up… us both,” Luo Binghe finished. “Together,” he added, after a pause, unnecessarily. “At the same time,” he clarified, hurriedly, casting sideways glances at Shen Qingqiu’s face.

“I get it, Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu replied, wanting the addendums to stop, it was too much! “I don’t… I hadn’t… I have never considered that,” Shen Qingqiu said, awkwardly. “I am sure he is not interested in me. You, maybe?” Shen Qingqiu felt certain that some of the fiery passionate hatred that Liu Qingge showed for Luo Binghe could be… converted to other kinds of passion. Probably. In this narrative, it could?! It had, with, uh, some of the spicier wives. And the original PIDW was full of threesomes. Between Luo Binghe and… two… women, two wives. And while it still made him sputter to think it clearly through, Shen Qingqiu was the closest to a wife his medium-gray lotus was likely to get. But Liu Qingge! Not! A! Wife!

“No, shizun,” Luo Binghe said, glumly. “It’s you he wants, I know it.” Luo Binghe clearly believed what he was saying. But he was a very jealous man… maybe it was fantasy? Jealous Luo Binghe seeing avarice in every eye?

“Well, we will find out,” Shen Qingqiu said, irritable with Luo Binghe’s contrariness. “But we shouldn’t ask too much! Remember how uncomfortable it was for you—he’s compelled to answer. We have to be careful.”

“So shall we ask him or not ask him,” Luo Binghe asked, raising a brow only slightly. Which, fair.

“We will… ask him… yes or no questions,” Shen Qingqiu stopped, considered. “We will list the peak lords in order of seniority…?”

“That leaves Shizun second,” Luo Binghe reminded him.

Drat! “We will ask in no particular order, but really in order of least likely to be offensive to him?”

Luo Binghe just looked at him, considering. “Where shizun leads, this disciple will follow,” he finally said.

Wonderful, great. Shen Qingqiu stood from the bed, threw back his shoulders, took Luo Binghe’s hand, and reached for the door…

“Shizun…” Luo Binghe whispered, as he laid his own hand over Shen Qingqiu’s, stopping him from opening the door. “First, clothes?”

Face red, Shen Qingqiu smacked Luo Binghe’s hand away and turned to dress himself.

Dressed impeccably, settled, calm, moisturized and in his lane, Shen Qingqiu opened the door to leave the bedroom with his equally! Settled! Husband! Who was still smirking, damn it. Shen Qingqiu slapped at him with the arm he had calmly and gracefully placed behind his back.

“Liu shidi, apologies for the delay,” Shen Qingqiu said, even as he slapped, rushing to fill the silence. Liu Qingge’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice, and while his face seemed calm, his eyes were terribly bloodshot! Ahh, Shen Qingqiu had hoped his little joke to himself about Liu Qingge qi-deviating was not coming true. Shen Qingqiu seated himself a respectable distance across from his sect sibling and felt Luo Binghe do the same on his right.

“Before Liu shidi says anything, please know that nothing you say will reach any other ears than ours, and we won’t judge you for anything, and further we can promise to forget everything said and done today as soon as we have gotten you cured,” Shen Qingqiu said, rushing each word. And… sort of meaning it. Would it really be possible to forget seeing the immaculate War God like… well, however he was going to have to be?!

Liu Qingge stared at them. “Fine,” he said. And pursed his lips shut. Was he better at fighting the poison already? Or just didn’t have to respond since he wasn’t asked a question?

“This master will simply… list some names, and if Liu shidi is willing, he need only say ‘yes’… and I will approach that person on his behalf, swear them to secrecy as well, and explain… the situation.” Here Shen Qingqiu paused. Liu Qingge’s eyes were maybe redder? Or wider? But his mouth held shut, and he blinked in an understanding manner.

“Liu shidi is already able to control some of the poison’s effects?” Ah, no! He didn’t mean to ask that! Curse his curiosity!

“I am just screaming without words in my head, and so no words come out of my mouth,” Liu Qingge replied, flatly. Shen Qingqiu stared at him. Liu Qingge’s right eye twitched once. Hahaha… oh no.

“Ok, let’s start! Just, you only have to say yes or no, that’s all!” Liu Qingge blinked affirmatively again, and then kept… twitching.

“Yue Qingyan?”

“No!” Well, that was a relief. Not a conversation Shen Qingqiu had been looking forward to.

“Ok, alright! Not him then. Mu Qingfang?”

“No!” Fuck! The doctor had been Shen Qingqiu’s best hope! Possibly the least awkward conversation he’d have to undertake—Mu Qingfang was practical, cared for his patients, was unbothered by embarrassing injuries, and also… seemed interested in these sorts of poisons. At least he had when Shen Qingqiu had been exposed to them.

Shen Qingqiu screwed up his face, and drew breath to ask if Liu Qingge was sure, but Liu Qingge’s red-eyed stare became even more aggressive! The eye twitching increased! Ok, ok, moving on!

“Qi Qingqi?”

“No! No!” Well, there weren’t any other women peak lords; Shen Qingqiu had hoped maybe that was the problem with the others… despite what Liu Qingge might have said, before the bedroom door closed… about uh, it being fine if Luo Binghe…

“Uh… Shang Qinghua?”

“No! Definitely not!”

Luo Binghe suddenly leaned forward and interrupted. “Any of the peak lords?” He asked, slipping in like a hot knife.

Liu Qingge’s mouth struggled against itself; he sputtered, gracelessly. Shen Qingqiu thwacked Luo Binghe’s thigh.

“But shizun said we shouldn’t ask too much?” Luo Binghe pouted. “Isn’t it better to ask more general questions first? If none will do, we can move on quickly,” Luo Binghe’s soft lower lip poked out, just a little bit. But maybe he was right…

“Yes!” Liu Qingge finally shouted. Truly, his efforts against the poison were herculean. His normally peerlessly beautiful face was twisted beyond recognition, and there was… spittle on his collars? Oh, shidi.

“See, Shizun, this disciple told you” Luo Binghe muttered under his breath.

Shen Qingqiu glared at him. “Ok, shidi, one of the peak lords will do. Shall I continue naming…?”

Liu Qingge’s lips pulled back from his teeth, his mouth becoming a horrible rictus. His jaw clenched, his lips writhed.

“It’s shizun, isn’t it,” Luo Binghe sighed.

Liu Qingge lost the battle against his own face. “Yes! Yes, I want to see…!” Shen Qingqiu couldn’t let this continue. He slapped his hand over Liu Qingge’s mouth, which kept moving under his fingers.

“Binghe!” He hissed. “We discussed this!”

“This disciple apologizes,” Luo Binghe murmured, looking down with faux? Humility? “But I was right, wasn’t I? Liu shishu only wants shizun,” he added, a red gleam in his eye. What did…?

The muffled sound under Shen Qingqiu’s hand was increasing. Liu Qingge’s eyes above his hand were wild.

“Shidi does not need to… elaborate,” Shen Qingqiu began, soothingly. “But perhaps…? Is there perhaps anyone else who might serve?” Liu Qingge blinked both eyes together, hard. Was that a yes? Or was the twitching progressing??

Shen Qingqiu cautiously pulled his hand away.

“There is…” Liu Qingge started, eyes darting over to Luo Binghe, whose demonic aura was increasingly failing to be suppressed. Liu Qingge cut himself off with a truly vicious bite to his own tongue. With a sigh, Shen Qingqiu lifted his hand again to prevent further injuries by just manually shutting him up.

Before he could reach, Luo Binghe’s hands shot out to grab Liu Qingge’s collars and shook him a little. Liu Qingge’s poor head lolled to the left a bit before being smacked back into the wall with the force of the shake. “Who ELSE?” Luo Binghe snarled. “Is there anyone ELSE, but my husband?”

“Binghe, stop!” Shen Qingqiu pulled Luo Binghe’s hands off Liu Qingge’s robes with difficulty; slapping a hand over Liu Qingge’s mouth as soon as was able, but still focused on his unruly husband. “He can’t help being honest! Can’t you see how much it pains him to speak of this?! Behave yourself, you know first hand how uncomfortable this is, and you had the benefit of your willing husband,” Shen Qingqiu finished, weakly. “If it’s just this lord he can’t help but say it! He’s poisoned!”

More movement under Shen Qingqiu’s hand, more muffled sounds. Luo Binghe kept staring at Liu Qingge. “Right,” Luo Binghe said. “He can’t help it.” His fists clenched and unclenched.

Shen Qingqiu laid his free hand on one of those terrible fists, stroked his knuckles; took an audible breath, a cue they had worked out together. Luo Binghe gave in, and breathed in with him, out; once, twice. Under control? Shen Qingqiu cautiously let go of Liu Qingge’s face.

“There is… also,” Liu Qingge started, his lips beginning to peel back again in that horrible expression. “Luo Binghe,” he spat. It was an answer to the question, but the inflection on Luo Binghe’s name was so venomous. Could an honest admission of… admiration, Shen Qingqiu supposed, still sound like this?

Maybe he meant instead… Luo Binghe could ask someone else, a demon…? But that was even more farfetched. “You mean you would also accept Luo Binghe, as a partner?” Shen Qingqiu cautiously asked.

Liu Qingge twitched, and glared. But then when Shen Qingqiu briefly lifted his hand from his shidi’s mouth, very clearly said, “Yes.” Shen Qingqiu hurriedly slapped the hand back into place afterward.

Shen Qingqiu blew out a breath. Well, wasn’t that… convenient.

“You can’t have Shizun,” Luo Binghe said, flat and cold, glaring at Liu Qingge with killing intent radiating from him like a halo.

Shen Qingqiu slapped his thigh again, and the display collapsed as Luo Binghe turned a wounded puppy face toward Shen Qingqiu, eyes welling.

“Luo Binghe, don’t you remember? It’s not enough for Liu Qingge to be forced into honesty for the poison to be cured. WE also must be honest. And I know you can’t feel that coldly! I heard you!” Luo Binghe harrumphed, turning away from them both. “And Liu Qingge heard you! You have to let go of any… facades… and be truthful in all ways!”

This was going to be impossible. Impossible! Liu Qingge would choke on his own tongue and Luo Binghe would not play by the rules, and they would get nowhere!

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said, tugging on his husband’s hand until Luo Binghe looked at him. “I saw you earlier rush forward to defend your shishu from the Marsupial,” Shen Qingqiu said. “There is no need to keep pretending to hate him. I know you fought bitterly in the past, but I am here now, alive. We are married, and I am safe. Please, we won’t get through this if you,” he shot Liu Qingge a look, “If both of you! Don’t stop this posturing!”

Under his hand, Liu Qingge’s mouth moved a little. His eyebrows vacillated between angry and confused. Luo Binghe looked displeased, but caught; his left hand in Shen Qingqiu’s was soft and easy, but his right hand stayed a fist on his thigh. When he looked at Shen Qingqiu, he gave the impression of submission. But when he turned to watch Liu Qingge under Shen Qingqiu’s hand, he appeared more… calculating.

“And anyway, the poison already gave you away, you’re both willing!” Shen Qingqiu added, exasperated. He removed his hand from Liu Qingge’s face and sat back on his heels. Liu Qingge worked his jaw like it ached. Luo Binghe considered them both for a moment.

“As always, shizun sees to the heart of the matter,” Luo Binghe said, weirdly calm compared to his previous outburst. “This disciple will obey. Shall we begin now?” Shen Qingqiu distrusted his smooth forehead, his clear gaze. What was Luo Binghe up to now? But it was hard to object to such an obedient answer.

“Fine,” Liu Qingge replied. Shen Qingqiu waited for more; was he just screaming internally again?? “That’s fine,” was all he added.

Suddenly, Luo Binghe swept Liu Qingge up in his arms and stood. Shen Qingqiu followed suit, more slowly. “You have to tell us what,” Shen Qingqiu paused. How could it be phrased least invasively? “Er, tell us something. That will work. And definitely, tell us to stop if you… don’t like it,” Shen Qingqiu added lamely.

There was no way to be smooth here! Liu Qingge was the opposite of a bashful beauty, ready to yield her charms! Despite being cursed to honesty, Shen Qingqiu still had no idea what the man wanted!

“I don’t… dislike this,” Liu Qingge said, still flat. Luo Binghe shrugged him up in his arms, settled his wobbly head against Luo Binghe’s chest. Liu Qingge looked increasingly disgruntled, but didn’t twitch or bite himself. Progress…?

“Shizun, let’s take him to the bedroom,” Luo Binghe said, and swept in that direction.

Shen Qingqiu had a bad feeling about this.

Luo Binghe’s arms were very strong; Liu Qingge knew this already. He even knew what it felt like to be caught up in them, as their fights over the long five years of Shen Qingqiu’s… well, his temporary death, had sometimes ended in grappling. And because of this, he already knew what it felt like to feel helpless and defeated in those strong arms, pinned down by that strong body. Liu Qingge felt sure he had experienced every possible iteration of single combat defeat during that time.

Though in the present moment the oppressive gray grief was missing. The abject feeling of failure, the fiery torture of knowing that his friend, to whom he owed his life, who had proven himself capable of miraculous change and honest sacrifice, was left unburied and improperly mourned, in dishonor. Because Shen Qingqiu was here with him. Demonstrably alive, just as heartfelt and contrary as ever.

The dissonance Liu Qingge felt watching Shen Qingqiu with Luo Binghe had… lessened, recently. The peak lords (excepting their test subject and Shang Qinghua) had collectively conspired to pass Shen Qingqiu curse-revealing totems, to walk him through gardens that were really compulsion-breaking arrays, and check his meridians for interference after the most trivial injuries—almost exactly as they had done after his qi deviation so many years ago. And just as he did then, Shen Qingqiu passed all tests.

Shen Qingqiu might blush and stammer when he was forced to say it, but he had indeed married his most notorious disciple, and willingly. He might slap Luo Binghe with his fan and scold him, but invariably he would immediately open that fan to cover a fond smile—sometimes even a giggle. And no one, not in these many years, had heard a harsh word cross Luo Binghe’s lips towards his master. To everyone else, Luo Binghe’s eyes were—at their mildest—the curl of smoke that preceded a forest fire. And his temper was… not good. Especially when anyone threatened, or Luo Binghe could conceivably suspect, a threat to his shizun.

Which was all to say: certainly Liu Qingge hated him. You can’t spend five years trying to fight someone to the death, only to have them humiliatingly spare you over and over, without really working up a grudge. But he couldn’t hate him on Shen Qingqiu’s behalf any more, only his own. It was clear that there were more complicated and convoluted explanations for a lot of their mystifying actions in those days, but even if Liu Qingge were good at talking to people—which he wasn’t—he doubted that Shen Qingqiu would provide any of them. He hadn’t to any number of more tactful colleagues.

His feelings toward Shen Qingqiu were still… there. He remembered in the early days after his qi deviation in the caves and Shen Qingqiu’s intervention, when he felt—intrigued, and suspicious. What kind of long con was Shen Qingqiu running, pretending to have changed?!

But then when the mountain was attacked, and Shen Qingqiu fought cleanly, and then protected an innocent disciple—well, Luo Binghe, who maybe still qualified at that time—to his own detriment, his suspicions had lessened. Liu Qingge told himself that his willingness to clear Shen Qingqiu’s meridians was both in repayment for his life and to monitor this sudden and strange change of heart.

But as the years passed… Liu Qingge grew… possessive of Shen Qingqiu. Though neither of them were easy conversationalists, spending a quiet hour, regularly, over years, clearing Shen Qingqiu’s spiritual veins made him feel… responsible for him, for his body. Committed, in some way. And this might have remained an interesting quirk of a professional… friendship… if not for the events that followed.

Because Shen Qingqiu’s body was abruptly an actual possession, and one that Liu Qingge did not possess. At first he was enraged because of the affront to his shixiong, but as the weeks turned to months, and the scars on Liu Qingge’s body accumulated alongside his failures, Liu Qingge could admit—things went a little sideways. He had lost count of how many times each of his bones had been broken, trying to regain possession of Shen Qingqiu’s body. And as he gritted his teeth through each bone setting, his mind, to avoid the pain, for some horrible reason, cooked up ever more fiendish uses that Luo Binghe might have for it. And Luo Binghe fought so ferociously! Clearly whatever disgusting plans he had were very important to him.

Even now it was hard to reconcile those fevered imaginings with the present. Now… it seemed clear… Liu Qingge was fairly sure… that nothing untoward had gone on, those five years. Other than depriving Shen Qingqiu of the appropriate funerary rites. However… if Liu Qingge had succeeded back then, and taken the body home to Qing Jing, would it have been possible for Shen Qingqiu to have be resurrected, so many times, and be alive and happy today…?

Regardless, it was those fever dreams of perversity which solidified the shift from quirky possessiveness to… well, whatever he felt now. Liu Qingge longed to check Shen Qingqiu over when they met, check his qi, check him for injuries, soothe any hurts—not that he had any medical talents whatsoever. But the Without a Cure was long since cured, and Luo Binghe would not tolerate any hands but his own on his shizun. Liu Qingge bit his tongue when Luo Binghe sometimes acted out his own exact desires whenever Shen Qingqiu returned from any adventure, checking, tutting, healing. Presumptuous! He thought to himself, tasting vinegar.

Because Luo Binghe’s hands were… often… on Shen Qingqiu, and not only at those times of reunion. He was shameless. In public, he was a terror. But from time to time Liu Qingge managed to interrupt them in private as well, and it could not be more clear how frequently, urgently, and… thoroughly Luo Binghe touched Shen Qingqiu.

For months after their first return to Qing Jing Peak, Liu Qingge felt almost like he did when Shen Qingqiu was dead. It seemed impossible that Shen Qingqiu could welcome Luo Binghe’s behavior. The old fever dreams of what-could-he-be-doing-with-a-corpse were replaced with sleepless nights imagining… Shen Qingqiu biting his lip, tolerating the intolerable, simply out of love and guilt. Liu Qingge had never been interested in carnal acts the way most men were, but his heretofore barren imagination had blossomed in his fear. His own imaginings threatened to drive Liu Qingge mad.

It had been that madness that had prompted Liu Qingge to follow Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe home one night after a banquet, recently—for something, who cared or remembered. Shen Qingqiu had been deep in his cups, and the proprietary—handling—that Luo Binghe gave him had increased. Liu Qingge thought he would be even more vulnerable when intoxicated. He just wanted to be… nearby… if Shen Qingqiu needed aid.

A scuffle, a crash of breaking furniture, and a yelp brought him out of the bamboo forest and up to the door. They had left the door cracked. Liu Qingge saw…

Shen Qingqiu had tackled Luo Binghe, poorly, and Luo Binghe lay in the remains of a crushed table. His face was turned toward the door where Liu Qingge hid; Shen Qingqiu, sitting upright astride Luo Binghe’s hips, had his back to Liu Qingge. Luo Binghe’s hands were on Shen Qingqiu’s thighs and he was… laughing? Giggling, even. Shen Qingqiu seemed to be… struggling, with his… own clothes? He wrenched off several layers of robes from his shoulders, shifting drunkenly and nearly toppling off his seat on Luo Binghe each time he wiggled an arm free of a sleeve. He had forgotten to tackle his belts, so eventually ended up with bare shoulders and an impenetrable layer of fabric overlying the neglected closures. After several minutes of futile struggle, Luo Binghe catching him each time he nearly wobbled off into the splintered remains of the table, snickering, Shen Qingqiu clearly gave up… and set to disrobing Luo Binghe instead.

Laughing, face shining with joy, Luo Binghe had alternated between helping Shen Qingqiu in his muddled work and catching Shen Qingqiu as he slipped, over and over. When Shen Qingqiu made it to Luo Binghe’s bare chest, he suddenly lay his torso down flat on top of Luo Binghe, hands under himself on Luo Binghe’s pecs, face tucked into Luo Binghe’s hair. The giggling was by then coming from both of them. Luo Binghe’s hands slid up from Shen Qingqiu’s hips to hold him just below the shoulder blades.

Shen Qingqiu always had trouble regulating the volume of his voice when drunk. So despite speaking probably directly into Luo Binghe’s hair, Liu Qingge heard him say, quite clearly, “Husband, I missed you so much.”

Luo Binghe had been gone only a few days—perhaps a week?—doing demon things, whatever, in the demon realm.

“Oh?” Luo Binghe had asked, with a laugh in his voice, but also very obviously desperate to know more. “What exactly did you miss, shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu had pushed himself up from Luo Binghe’s chest with both hands, presumably to glare at him.

“You know what,” he said, huffily.

“My cooking?” Luo Binghe asked, mischievous, took and then kissed Shen Qingqiu’s left hand.

“No—yes!” Shen Qingqiu replied, muddled.

“My cleaning?” He asked, clearly teasing; starting to kiss each finger on the hand he had trapped. Shen Qingqiu stared at his hand against Luo Binghe’s mouth.

“No, of course not—“ when Luo Binghe laughed harder, Shen Qingqiu slapped his chest with his free hand. “Of course I missed your cleaning, I’m a mess! But no, I didn’t mean that.”

“What did shizun mean, then?” Here Luo Binghe escalated—he took the first two fingers of Shen Qingqiu’s hand, well kissed by now, into his mouth and sucked.

“Oh… I missed…” Shen Qingqiu was losing the plot, it seemed, transfixed by Luo Binghe’s hollowed checks. Liu Qingge himself was… transfixed. Luo Binghe slid the fingers out with a pop, and then began licking them.

“I missed your mouth,” Shen Qingqiu sighed, and Luo Binghe had smiled, gleeful, thrilled, around his naughty tongue.

“Just my mouth, shizun?” Luo Binghe replied, looking up through downcast lashes, drawing Shen Qingqiu’s little finger into his mouth to suck.

At this point, Liu Qingge had been forced to notice other things than what Luo Binghe was doing with Shen Qingqiu’s fingers. It must have started subtly, but soon it was impossible to miss that Shen Qingqiu’s hips were… moving… on top of Luo Binghe. Who himself was… not moving?

Shen Qingqiu’s breath was coming faster, and heavier. Liu Qingge could not see his face, only Luo Binghe’s, whose little smile got smugger and more pleased by the moment, and whose eyes…

“Oh… oh, Binghe, no, not just… not just your mouth,” Shen Qingqiu gasped, and rutted harder. He took more weight onto the hand not in Luo Binghe’s mouth, splayed over Luo Binghe’s right nipple. His shoulder blades winged up as his torso dropped lower. Luo Binghe’s right hand slid down his back onto his… backside, and… encouraged! Shen Qingqiu’s movements!

“Will you say it, shizun?” Luo Binghe had whispered. “Will you say what else you missed?” He kept sucking on Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, and grinding Shen Qingqiu’s unsteady hips into his own.

“Ha… ah… Binghe, I missed… oh…” Shen Qingqiu’s head dropped and his knees, to either side of Luo Binghe’s hips, tightened as he worked himself harder. “I missed… oh, stop asking me… just… just take me to bed!” Shen Qingqiu exclaimed.

“Gladly,” Luo Binghe replied. He set Shen Qingqiu’s right hand on his shoulder, kissed him on the mouth, and stood. In the ruckus of him kicking the broken table parts away to walk to their bedroom, Liu Qingge was able to slip away, unnoticed.

Anyway, he didn’t worry any more about Shen Qingqiu being overpowered, forced, or tolerating things he didn’t want with a stiff upper lip. He could still picture, if he tried, the same… imaginings he’d had before, with a smaller body below a bigger one, the former whimpering, or… crying, the larger one sneering, or sometimes grunting. The sound of a smack. Sometimes he thought of those same imaginings without being able to help it, just as before. But it was less. And it felt better, being people he didn’t know.

Because he couldn’t put their faces on it any more. The delight on Luo Binghe’s face… the yearning, the begging for affirmation, even as Shen Qingqiu so shamelessly took what he wanted from Luo Binghe’s body. Liu Qingge had felt struck like a gong, reverberating, had to clench his teeth, seeing and hearing Luo Binghe beg for Shen Qingqiu to say… things. And Shen Qingqiu, so unbelievably wanton, so incomprehensibly desirous! If he hadn’t seen it himself he would never have believed it.

Though he could never imagine himself, his actual self, in bed with… anyone, the feeling that Luo Binghe’s begging for approval exposed in Liu Qingge was one he hadn’t realized was hidden within himself until that night. He couldn’t fathom, imagine, saying any of it out loud. Impossible! But from then on whenever Shen Qingqiu looked up at his approach and smiled, or when he welcomed Liu Qingge into the bamboo house, he heard it in his ear, in Luo Binghe’s low, whispering voice: Did you miss me? What did you miss?

Will you say it?

Of course Shen Qingqiu never would. And Liu Qingge never would either—neither to ask nor to answer.

But now…

Luo Binghe held his utterly disempowered body in his arms, appearing to consider his next move, at the edge of the… rumpled bed. His face, as he had scooped up Liu Qingge in the main room, was, as always when pointed away from his husband more stern, opaque. But he had paused here. He held Liu Qingge unmoving a moment. Liu Qingge had seen Luo Binghe many times calculate his next move during a fight, but he couldn’t see Luo Binghe’s face with how his head was tucked down into the demon’s chest. But he was also familiar with the tense, thoughtful stillness he felt now in Luo Binghe’s strong body.

Liu Qingge could see Shen Qingqiu’s face, though, as he turned from pulling closed their bedroom door. His mouth was calm, but his eyes were tense with worry. Liu Qingge wished he could make himself turn away to not see it, or even close his eyes—which he could actually do, technically. But as usual the yearning to watch was too strong. He couldn’t use his impressive, hard-won body discipline to turn away and stomp off, as he usually could.

Shen Qingqiu met Liu Qingge’s eyes for a moment, without clearing or easing. He then looked up at his husband.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said. “Can you put him down? On the bed, but… sitting up?”

“Yes, Shizun,” Liu Qingge heard, and felt, his ear against Luo Binghe’s vibrating chest.

Luo Binghe settled him with his legs out straight and his back up against the headboard. Shen Qingqiu sat at the edge of the bed and held his left hand out to Luo Binghe, who took it, and was apparently tugged down to kneel at the edge of the bed, at his master’s left. Shen Qingqiu was looking into Liu Qingge’s face. Liu Qingge, of course, could not look away.

“Liu shidi,” Shen Qingqiu started, his eyes darting back and forth, over Liu Qingge’s whole face, looking for something. “Liu shidi, you have to tell us a bit more.” Liu Qingge felt himself make a face, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrows drew down even further, his right hand reaching for a fan that wasn’t at his waist. After it found nothing, the hand settled in Shen Qingqiu’s lap, clearly unsatisfied.

“I know you don’t want to say anything,” Shen Qingqiu added, taking a deep breath. “But we cannot proceed until we know more… what… what does Liu shidi want us to do?” At this, Shen Qingqiu proved unable to keep eye contact, for which Liu Qingge was grateful. He felt that Shen Qingqiu was probably looking at his chin.

Liu Qingge felt his mouth move—silently, so far—and he was surprised to realize that his horror and fear had, over the last few minutes, become distant—clear, but not readily felt. This was already the worst thing he could imagine, particularly because he felt a horrible hope lurking under all the humiliation and terror. What DID he want them to do?

Certainly things he wasn’t allowed to have—he had forced himself to know only that about his desires, because looking at them more deeply would only hurt worse. Except, now, bizarrely and unexpectedly, whatever desires came out of his mouth would probably… be given him. What did we want, what would he ask for… his mouth was already moving. It was beyond him. He found himself actually curious to know what would come out of his mouth.

“Whatever you want is fine,” he heard himself say.

He heard Luo Binghe snort; he heard a muttered, “even under truth poison.” Shen Qingqiu swatted Luo Binghe on the back of his head. “Shidi,” he coaxed. “That doesn’t help us. We need to know what… what will make Liu shidi feel… the best? So that he can… finish… and be cured.”

Shen Qingqiu’s beautiful, usually playful face had reddened throughout this tortured speech. He made several attempts at eye contact, which Liu Qingge felt himself returning.

“With the two of you, I don’t know what would feel the best,” his mouth said.

“What do you usually do for yourself, then?” Luo Binghe interjected from Shen Qingqiu’s knee. “What works for you?”

“Nothing works if I’m not thinking the right things,” his mouth replied.

“What things are those?” Shen Qingqiu asked. “A… a certain mood? Or, or… a certain,” here, Shen Qingqiu choked, before raising a hand to his mouth. “…a fantasy?” Shen Qingqiu whispered.

“I suppose both,” Liu Qingge’s mouth said. “It used to feel pretty terrible though. Because before, I would have all these dreams about Luo Binghe touching your dead body, and I felt horrible and sick, but would wake up so hard. And so I had to think of nothing at all when I touched myself, which was hard to do, and so I couldn’t often manage to come, and usually had to go fight things.”

Both Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe had frozen. Thankfully Liu Qingge wasn’t looking at Luo Binghe and didn’t have to look at him. Shen Qingqiu was bad enough. The worry around his eyes had been wiped away and he was so still, frozen, blank. It reminded him…

“Please move, Shen shixiong,” he heard himself ask. “If I am thinking of you dead I definitely can’t do it.”

Shen Qingqiu’s face spasmed. “Ah… I am not… I don’t…” Shen Qingqiu gulped and started again. “You said that was before; well… what about, what about now? What do you think about, now?”

“Mostly about the time I saw you drunk, and I watched Luo Binghe beg for your favor while you rode him on the main room’s floor,” Liu Qingge’s horrible mouth said, calmly—nonchalantly! “I didn’t touch myself then because you got up to go to the bedroom,” Liu Qingge felt his tongue between his teeth, briefly. “This bedroom,” his face noted, helpfully. “It usually works best if I pretend that you stayed on the floor together and he kept begging and you kept grinding until you both came and I touched myself outside the door,” his traitorous face concluded.

The situation had gone from excruciating to surreal. None of this could be happening. It was beyond comprehension.

Thankfully as he heard himself say the word ‘grinding’ out loud to Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe, in reference to what he had illicitly watched, he was able to actually close his eyes. In the dark maybe he could pretend he, Liu Qingge, was dead, and that a malicious ghost had stolen his voice.

There was a tense silence.

“But you can do whatever you want, like I said,” Liu Qingge’s mouth said, undeterred. “I’ve never imagined either of you actually touching me so I am not sure how fast it will be, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

“You’ve never imagined him touching you?” Luo Binghe’s voice startled the part of Liu Qingge that could think, and which wasn’t attached to his mouth any more. “Never imagined touching him?”

“No,” Liu Qingge’s mouth said, blithe. “No, it never seemed realistic. And anyway, I never imagined anyone or tried to touch myself until after he died and that first time we fought with you holding his naked body under your arm.” Liu Qingge heard a swat, and his mouth paused politely to wait for an interjection—hearing none, his mouth continued. “And then you had mostly cut off my arm, so I was in bed for a while, and then the nightmares, like I said. But after the drunk grinding I’ve been feeling a lot better about it.”

“…oh?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice said, weakly, in the darkness Liu Qingge remained in, behind his own eyelids.

“Yes, very much.” Liu Qingge’s mouth assured him. “My body was never interested in any other bodies, until yours—both of yours, I guess—and then when it finally was, everything was horrible, but now I am sure you want it—him—Luo Binghe—so it’s ok to think about.”

“But what about you,” Luo Binghe’s voice again. “You said that… you said your body is interested. What does… your body want?” Luo Binghe’s voice was… lower?

“I already said,” Liu Qingge’s mouth replied. “Whatever you want. I guess I could want Luo Binghe to touch me intending to make me feel good, instead of to hurt me, and I could want Shen shixiong to touch me while telling me that he wants to,” his horrible mouth paused, and licked its lips. “It doesn’t matter what you do as long as it’s you who want it.”

This revelation sat in the still air for a time.

Liu Qingge felt a hand in his. It laced together their fingers and then it squeezed. He opened his eyes in surprise, to see Shen Qingqiu’s equally surprised face—looking not at Liu Qingge, but at Luo Binghe, whose hand it was. Luo Binghe’s eyes were red. Also wet? He looked both angry and sad. The part of Liu Qingge who no longer felt shame wasn’t sure what to make of the combination of his face and his gripping hand.

“In your fantasies,” Luo Binghe said, “what do I beg him for?” His voice was hoarse.

“To tell you he loves you, and loves your body, and wants you to do—whatever it is you’re doing,” Liu Qingge said, just as calmly as he had said everything else. It! What!

“What does he say to me then?” Luo Binghe asked, still gripping, still staring, but now a tear ran down his cheek—two tears. Three?

“He says he loves you, and loves your body, and that he wants you to fuck him harder or pull his hair or suck his dick, whatever you want,” Liu Qingge’s mouth replied. His throat cleared. This was an unusual amount of talking for him, after all. “Like I said. Whatever you want.”

How many times did Liu Qingge have to say it? What he wanted was very easy and clear. He must have said “do what you want” several times. Why couldn’t they understand that what he wanted most was for them to want him? It was very obvious.

The tears kept falling from Luo Binghe’s eyes, but soon after Liu Qingge’s mouth stopped… saying things, he had to look at Shen Qingqiu again, who had made a muffled little noise. Shen Qingqiu was still staring at Luo Binghe’s face… and looked like he might cry too?!

“I do,” Shen Qingqiu said. “Binghe, I do. I do love you, and your body, and… everything else. Binghe, this husband is ashamed. Binghe, do you also dream about us like that?”

Luo Binghe’s face crumpled. He buried his face in Shen Qingqiu’s lap until he was just a pile of unbound hair. Shen Qingqiu’s hand slid out from under Luo Binghe’s face and immediately stoked his fingers deeply through the curls. Luo Binghe’s head, under that slim pale hand, nodded.

Luo Binghe was glad to have his motor control back; he could hide his face in his master’s lap, the surest way to get Shen Qingqiu to touch him softly. His master’s hand in his hair was grounding, and stimulating, as it usually was.

Twice in one day, he got to hear it from his masters’ lips. Or more! He’d actually lost track. And without Luo Binghe even having to ask! Though, actually, someone had asked.. Liu Qingge had asked. Luo Binghe put that aside for now.

He let himself weep and kept an ear pricked for especially treasured or novel words of comfort from his shizun. Meanwhile, he let his brain keep working on a plan. This would not be simple or easy; for Luo Binghe in particular, he could foresee many pitfalls.

Earlier… alone with Shen Qingqiu, his tongue forced by poison but thankfully also encouraged by his shizun, he had really asked for it… and then, miraculously, had gotten it. It was everything he’d dreamed of. He couldn’t suppress a shiver and so incorporated it into his weeping and buried his face further into Shen Qingqiu’s robes.

Of course, he had asked for it before, several times. Those disciple dreams of his were frequent, and old, and powerful; but every time, Shen Qingqiu dodged him, and he felt he had to wait until Shen Qingqiu was again relaxed and—mostly—secure in their bed-play to try again. Sometimes this took months. He hadn’t yet succeeded, before today.

Luo Binghe knew his husband trusted him with his life, would give up his life, but also that Shen Qingqiu would do basically anything to avoid trusting him about… a few things. His shizun was brilliant, an absolute sage, truly magnificent in his ambit, but nothing could convince him of his own incredible desirability, or of the fullness of Luo Binghe’s own desires.

Sometimes it seemed as though Shen Qingqiu was only able to understand Luo Binghe’s body when it fought—against demon or cultivator, beast or ghost, in a simple spar or a fight to the death. His husbands’ eyes and his steel-trap mind lingered on and loved every part of him then, and afterwards he could look forward to both fulsome praise and helpful critique. No stone unturned, no aspect elided. Treasured and cherished and petted, just as he craved, but if Shen Qingqiu could see a way to help him improve, he wouldn’t hesitate. Luo Binghe could preen and feel himself fully understood.

At home, though; in bed, his husband seemed to know only his mouth, his hands and his pillar; it was if the rest of his body didn’t exist. Luo Binghe had tried to lead by example—his own mouth on the parts of Shen Qingqiu he himself wanted touched—teeth on a nipple, stroking fingertips on a tight sac, tongue in and around and in his chrysanthemum, grasping hands and scratching nails on buttocks, ankles and wrists held firm. Shen Qingqiu blushed and stammered and pretended to writhe away—for a moment at least—from most of it.

Of course, his thin-faced husband never asked for what he wanted, or admitted when he loved some new, whatever, say a tongue trick, so Luo Binghe—who had trained himself from his teens to provide everything before his shizun could think to ask—watched Shen Qingqiu’s body. Watched, avid-eyed, and learned by repetition and experimentation his Peak Lord’s screwed-up-tight struggling-to-let-himself-enjoy-it face; his open mouthed, sex-stunned shock expression, when it was so good he forgot himself; the slight moue of disappointment when Luo Binghe moved on from something Shen Qingqiu wanted to continue. That last he could now even see starting to form, and could resettle his mouth or fingers or dick where they were and continue with barely a break in rhythm.

Luo Binghe trusted his hard-won knowledge of his master’s body. He got verbal feedback on all of the food he cooked, and he matched it to Shen Qingqiu’s body language, and extrapolated, calculated. He knew, just as he knew when he had already won a fight that wasn’t over, that his master loved what they did in bed, loved what Luo Binghe had taught himself. But that didn’t stop his grasping, yearning, covetous desire for more.

What a gift the marsupial had bestowed! A clear-eyed, sober shizun, looking him in the eye, hearing him, believing him. Speaking no word that wasn’t true, to save him. His shizun nervous, unsure, asking his Binghe for help and guidance in this realm. And then the ecstasy of lying back, helpless, unmoving. His master acting, taking. Luo Binghe bit his lip, still facedown in Shen Qingqiu’s lap, remembering Shen Qingqiu’s hands digging into his hips. His body would show no marks but he’d etch them in his memory himself, enjoy them at his leisure in dreams.

It was possible, it had happened. He could make it happen again.

Was there a way to use his shishu—and his current problem, and his strangely palatable secret desires—to help? Liu Qingge had already, in revealing himself, prompted bashful Shen Qingqiu to confess again. In front of someone else, no less!

It certainly stung, that someone so stupid was able to see his desperate unmet needs so clearly; did it make it better or worse that Liu Qingge himself yearned for their satisfaction? Luo Binghe felt his own jealous feelings roil in his gut; he had known that Liu Qingge coveted his husband, and that Shen Qingqiu cared for Liu Qingge without noticing the quality of the war god’s regard. Luo Binghe’s tactical sense could not let him forget that Liu Qingge would fight to the death to protect his husband, and indeed had tried to those long years of Shen Qingqiu’s… absence. Against whom hardly mattered now; but of course, knowledge of someone’s body from any context can spill over into another… and indeed, Luo Binghe knew his martial uncle’s well.

Luo Binghe hadn’t, of course, touched his Shizun’s empty vessel with anything but the deepest respect. But as Liu Qingge had horrifyingly discovered, the mind is treacherous. Young Luo Binghe had ached for the sight of more of his shizun’s skin, thrilled by what he had seen at the Skinner demon’s hands. He remembered nights in his little side-bed, trying to extrapolate how Shen Qingqiu’s hip might attach to his torso, what his knees might look like, his bare ankle. He had salivated like a dog over the prospect of seeing more.

And then of course, he saw everything. But as the stupid brute had also said—then everything was horrible. His cherished young disciple’s dreams where his Shizun turned from his bath, startled, showing just the side of his body from ankle to collarbone, wet robe clutched to his groin, preserving his technical modestly—the dips and subtle roundness of each muscle along his flank rendered in fine detail—those old dreams stayed on heavy rotation despite his increasingly skilled efforts. And while before, as an unblemished youth, each dream was a different theory, a new hypothesis of Shen Qingqiu’s body… when his master was dead, his dreams were exactly, perfectly, anatomically accurate. Accurate, and tortuously impossible. He had thought them impossible dreams as a callow youth, but at that time, back then, he knew what the word truly meant.

Thankfully, Shen Qingqiu returning to him had proved, in the end, difficult but achievable. Shen Qingqiu’s fingers kept carding ceaselessly through his curls. Shen Qingqiu repeated his name, softly, as he did so. Shizun; so tender.

Luo Binghe did honestly still feel—overwhelmed. But his weeping into his master’s skirts was slowing. He had only a little time left to grapple with the problem: how could they cure Liu Qingge without Luo Binghe never being able to look at him again without wanting to murder him?

He knew what he had said, under truth compulsion; what Shen Qingqiu had unfortunately heard. The poison had snatched a sort of ‘yes’ from him when in fact, he had only considered bringing Liu Qingge to their bed under very specific circumstances. In fantasies that Luo Binghe had thought impossible to achieve, and therefore safe.

He had, he begrudged to himself, pictured Liu Qingge bound to a chair at the foot of the bed, forced to watch as Luo Binghe made love to his husband. There were a few other characters he had tried in that role—Yue Qingyan, Mu Qingfang—but Liu Qingge inspired the most jealousy and had demonstrated the fiercest devotion, and so was rarely substituted. It was truly remarkable that Liu Qingge somehow shared the exact same fantasy, down to what Luo Binghe liked to hear Shen Qingqiu say—and Liu Qingge overhear—in those dreams. Luo Binghe himself had never added the detail of Liu Qingge pleasuring himself to the sight of their lovemaking, preferring to keep him restrained and helpless. But he admitted the idea had its appeal. Perhaps…

But of course, Liu Qingge couldn’t touch himself now. One of them would have to do it. Was it possible that viewing the actualization of his fantasy could make Liu Qingge come untouched? A risk… and further, Shen Qingqiu had specified that the climax occur ‘with another.’ Would the celestial poison be satisfied with a look, but don’t touch, orgasm? Luo Binghe thought it, unfortunately, unlikely.

Well. Liu Qingge was bound by the curse, but did have to come out of the chair (metaphorically) and into the bed. It wasn’t exactly what he had dreamed—not like Shen Qingqiu tying him up and fucking his helpless body—oh god, it had really happened!—but it was close enough. He had an idea of how to arrange themselves. Luo Binghe would make do.

His precious bun’s sobs were ebbing. Shen Qingqiu transitioned from cooing Binghe’s name to shushing him, without stopping the stroking hand in his lush curls.

Damn it, how could even Liu Qingge, the man with the E.Q. of a brick, see that Luo Binghe was unsatisfied?! Shen Qingqiu had worried and worried that his old hips were not enough for the stallion emperor, husband to innumerable wives, but he had worried about the wrong thing! As usual! Mentally he pounded his forehead against his old computer desk. Peerless Cucumber’s number one complaint, Luo Binghe’s lack of true emotional fulfillment, happiness, love connection, in favor of meaningless papapa! And he had blundered into the same mistake… as Airplane the hack author.

Excruciating. Also: excruciating that Liu Qingge was watching them. Shen Qingqiu darted a glance at him, but he was still staring at Shen Qingqiu’s hands in Luo Binghe’s hair with a yearning expression. And! This! Wasn’t! The first time! He! Had! Watched! Shen Qingqiu barely remembered the drunk time with the… the grinding… mostly he remembered being put out about the broken furniture the next morning. Liu Qingge, the war god of Bai Zhan, a peeping tom! How had the whole universe gotten so bent?! It beggared belief.

Shen Qingqiu had worried most about Liu Qingge’s mind surviving this trap they had fallen into without qi-deviating, but now it seemed Liu Qingge… really would like whatever they did. Yes, a nervous virgin! No, not a clueless one! Shen Qingqiu simply could not take any more surprises of this nature. Not today. It was more than enough, to know that austere, beautiful, apparently-sexless Liu Qingge… ah, he… furtively touched himself imagining… Luo Binghe’s sexploits… without, ah, being able to, shall we say, insert himself into the, the fantasy, personally. Just… he just… imagined Luo Binghe having sex with someone he loved, and who loved him in return… and it turned him on, so so much…

How strange! Shen Qingqiu thought, somehow near hysteria (for no reason?). What an interesting way to, hmm, sublimate your desires and… well, it hardly bore thinking about. It had nothing to do with Shen Qingqiu!

But his tender Binghe… he’d been through so much today. And he was a very jealous man, seeing carnal lust for his old teacher everywhere he looked. Would he tolerate seeing Shen Qingqiu lend his shidi ah, ahem, a hand? Liu Qingge’s… go-to spank-bank scenario, as it were, probably was not compatible with either a desolately weeping Luo Binghe nor an infuriated, wrathful one. Well?! What else could they possibly do?!

“Shizun,” Shen Qingqiu startled, and looked down at the upturned face in his lap. Ah, only a protagonist could weep, get fucked, weep again, and still look like a slightly damp movie star.

“Yes, Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu settled the few attractively errant curls behind Luo Binghe’s ears.

“I think I know how we can cure Liu shishu,” Luo Binghe said. Shen Qingqiu searched his face. The voice was confident. The eyes… searching? The mouth… was it trembling? Shen Qingqiu squinted. No. Was it… smirking? No, not possible either.

“This master is grateful for his… ah, beloved husband’s help. However, this master wants… is concerned that Binghe may upset himself, which this master could not bear. And as you recall… the poison forces Liu Qingge to tell the truth, and he must not fight it,” a glance at the man in question showed he was paying attention, at least—though since they had moved to the bedroom, the tongue biting had… stopped? And his answers were at least a little more content-oriented, if alternatively horrifying and unbelievably horny. Shen Qingqiu mentally shook himself.

“But you and I, Binghe, must force ourselves to ah… remain open, and honest. So any plan with… dissembling… will leave Liu shidi still paralyzed and… likely us all… embarrassed,” Shen Qingqiu paused. Luo Binghe’s eyes still shone clear and now… more confident? “Given all that… does your plan, ah… still work?”

“Yes, Shizun,” his sticky husband replied. “Trust your devoted disciple.” Luo Binghe turned his head to kiss Shen Qingqi’s wrist.

“Then I am in your hands,” Shen Qingqiu said. Ah! Is it possible that the protagonist aura will for once work in their favor?! Has Luo Binghe’s famed tactical genius struck again, in a new realm? Well, new to this universe. Shen Qingqiu recalled some… tactical love scenes… but surely…

Abruptly Shen Qingqiu found himself lifted from the bed in Luo Binghe’s arms. Ah, his sweet man has taken him literally in his hands! Shen Qingqiu prepared to settle into being carried around to the other side of the bed but found himself… flung onto it?! Next to Liu Qingge? Who was now also lying flat on his back instead of sitting up at the headboard? And Luo Binghe was now working on the belts at Shen Qingqiu’s waist, flinging bits of his clothing off to the side. He was going so fast?!

“Binghe, what… what…” What is your plan?! Share with the audience, please!! There is probably audience participation required!!

“Shizun needn’t worry,” Luo Binghe said, grinning happily up from where he had managed to undo all of Shen Qingqiu’s layers very, VERY fast. He grinned wider, and leaned over to whisper in Shen Qingqiu’s ear—and not the ear away from Liu Qingge! The one right next to him! Where he could hear!

“I’ll just give Shizun what he wanted before,” Luo Binghe purred, before licking Shen Qingqiu’s neck below his ear. Shen Qingqiu felt his hands on Luo Binghe’s waist—when had that happened?!—tighten. In… fear? Probably fear.

“This husband was so selfish earlier, making shizun be the one inside. Shizun was so generous,” Luo Binghe’s hands had gotten Shen Qingqiu’s his pants untied, and somehow held his torso such that he was able to tilt up Shen Qingqiu’s hips and legs and slip them off without dislodging his mouth from Shen Qingqiu’s neck. Truly, too OP!

“Shizun wanted this unworthy husband to be inside, and so I can only obey, if belatedly,” Luo Binghe’s breath in his ear was sending tingly shocks down his neck. That and the prospect of…! In front of…!

“Shizun did say,” Luo Binghe panted, as his wet finger—when did he get the lube?!—slipped into Shen Qingqiu’s—well, already pretty wet, hole. “That he liked it,” Luo Binghe finished, and pulled back to look Shen Qingqiu in the eye.

“Shizun even said he loved it, even when it was difficult,” Luo Binghe’s voice was smoky and confident, but his eyes… nervous? Luo Binghe paused, expectantly. And stared. And… still fingered.

“I… this…” Shen Qingqiu managed, feeling himself writhe a little, his hands trying to smoothly cover his face as a fan would. Ah, truthfulness! Fuck!

“I did say that,” Shen Qingqiu choked out. Oh, fuck, do better! “I… do love it. Please,” he sobbed, and at this he heard a gasp to his right, but he only had eyes for his husband, whose two—two!!—fingers had paused in their busy work downstairs, and whose mouth had dropped open.

“Ah…” Why was this still such a struggle?! “Please, ah, do… it… to me,” Shen Qingqiu squeezed his eyes shut. He sounded so stupid!

Meanwhile some sort of… growling noise happened, the source of which Shen Qingqiu couldn’t identify when he opened his eyes, and Luo Binghe’s fingers definitely were encouraged by Shen Qingqiu’s shitty attempt at dirty talk. Shen Qingqiu worked on his breathing, as they had learned was important for prep—in in in, out out out, relax. Whoops, there went the third finger. Binghe!! Didn’t you just get it an hour ago?! Why so impatient…

But Shen Qingqiu could also feel himself starting to breathe heavily, his mouth open and gasping. And he could hear Binghe panting as he watched himself work Shen Qingqiu open, his left hand (Ambidextrous! Not just for sword fighting! So cool!) working on opening his own robes. And of course there was also…

FUCK! Liu Qingge was ALSO PANTING because he was ALSO THERE.

Shen Qingqiu’s head snapped to his right to look—had Luo Binghe turned Liu Qingge’s head for him a little?! So he could see?! Because he was definitely looking! Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened as he took in the whole body…situation. He was definitely looking disrespectfully, and it was showing!

“Binghe, Binghe…” Shen Qingqiu managed. “Binghe, what about Liu shidi?! If you’re… if you’re doing, ah, me… then how will…?”

“Don’t worry, Shizun,” Luo Binghe looked up from between Shen Qingqiu’s legs with a little proud smile. “I’ll handle him.”

“Handle…?” Shen Qingqiu begun, as Liu Qingge choked. Luo Binghe had also managed to lose his pants somehow? Where were they?! Did he use a talisman or something? Because the pillar was in the open, and it was ALSO looking disrespectfully. Just as magnificent as usual and as… mouth, uh, mouthwatering… anyway!

And where did Luo Binghe’s left hand go?! Shen Qingqiu’s eyes trailed up Luo Binghe’s torso, maybe a little distracted at how his abs tensed and flexed… though why was he… and at his shoulder, the left arm was wrenched back, disappearing behind… Luo Binghe tossed his head back and groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as he… clearly… rode his… own hand?!

Oh fuck, HANDLE HIM. “Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu, well… he squeaked.

“Ah, Shizun made it so easy and so wet already,” Luo Binghe said to the ceiling, still busy working… both of his hands… “Liu shishu will just slip right in.” Then the demon emperor’s chin tipped down, slowly and deliberately, to look at… right at Liu Qingge, who… was looking right back, stunned.

Luo Binghe smiled at him. Oh no, a very scary smile! Shen Qingqiu was a little scared on Liu Qingge’s behalf, though… no less horny.

“You mean,” Liu Qingge gulped out. How was it the man with the truth compelling poison still in his veins kept so quiet for so long?!

“You mean, I’m going to fuck you?” Liu Qingge, said, his face still smacked-fish dumb, somehow, right to Luo Binghe’s face?!

“Oh, no, shishu—you can’t move, you’re poisoned, you can’t fuck anyone,” Luo Binghe said, sounding deeply satisfied. His eyes went heavy lidded as he apparently did something… ah, nice to himself. And inspired his right hand to new efforts inside Shen Qingqui! Ah!! Shen Qingqiu found his neck arching and so lost visuals on this dangerous tableau.

“I’m going to make your fantasy come true,” Luo Binghe continued, almost dreamily. “I’m going to fuck Shizun in front of you, and while I do it, I am going to fuck you too.” WHAT!!

Luo Binghe’s left hand was apparently free from its… duties, as it was now ripping Shen Qingqiu’s robes off his shoulders. Shen Qingqiu tried confusedly to help him, clumsily, pulling each arm out of the layers in turn. When he was bare, sitting in a pile of his own discarded clothing, Luo Binghe tipped up Shen Qingqiu’s chin with his clean wrist.

“Shizun,” he called. “Shizun, look at me.” Sort of, mostly unwillingly, Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes. When did they close?! Ah! Luo Binghe was very, very close!

“Is that ok, Shizun? Are you willing?” Luo Binghe asked, quite seriously. His fingers… never stopped…

Shen Qingqiu was OPEN, in every way! He was going to be open and honest!

“If Binghe likes it, then how can this master not be willing? Ah,” Shen Qingqiu cut off, at the dimming of Luo Binghe’s expression. OPEN, so very OPEN!!

“Ah, how can this husband not…um, enjoy it? I mean,” Damn it, he was an immortal cultivator, fucking spit it out!

“I mean, I… really want it,” Shen Qingqiu’s breath caught at the clear delight dawning from Luo Binghe’s face. “I even… this husband… that is…”

Luo Binghe finally removed his—several!—fingers from Shen Qingqiu’s body, and used both hands to catch at Shen Qingqiu’s waist, and pull him into his lap. Shen Qingqiu automatically wrapped his legs around Luo Binghe’s torso, though they weren’t yet… ah, connected.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu was able to say, into his husband’s hair, thankfully able to hide his face. Much easier! “I want you to… do me, um, while you… uh…” How to put it in a way that wasn’t telling the Demon Emperor he was gonna ride a dick?!

“While you… ride Liu Qingge’s dick!” Shen Qingqiu finished on a yelp.

To be fair though, while he had been struggling to say words (wasn’t that supposed to be his only actual talent, that wasn’t inherited from the original goods! Saying words about Luo Binghe! Right?!) Luo Binghe had continued enacting his plan. Shen Qingqiu found himself jostled a bit, unstable, and so clung with all four limbs to Luo Binghe as he rose to a crouch and sidled over to hover over, presumably, Liu Qingge’s thighs. Luo Binghe’s hands left Shen Qingqiu’s hips, who very thankfully was still clinging with all his might to the rock-hard protagonist torso, and then there was a clear… series… of ripping sounds.

“What the…!” Liu Qingge shouted.

“Shishu,” Luo Binghe cooed, as he thumped from his feet to his knees on the bed, straddling Liu Qingge… higher up. “Do you want me to stop?” Luo Binghe’s right hand returned to Shen Qingqiu’s flank and stroked him, soothingly. His left hand, however, slid past Shen Qingqiu’s clinging ankle down to… where it had been working, before…

“No, please don’t stop,” Liu Qingge said, fervent and… alarmed? through his continued heavy breathing. “I hate that you ripped apart all of my clothes, and will definitely resentfully stare at them later, and probably brood, but I really would like you to please continue!”

So wordy! But… at least, very clear?

“In that case,” Luo Binghe said, and there was further shifting of his torso. Shen Qingqiu felt the forearm pressed to his foot flex, as though reaching. Luo Binghe raised himself up on his thighs and then…slowly, settled down. His hips under Shen Qingqiu’s crossed feet wriggled a little, side to side. Liu Qingge, meanwhile… sounded like he was choking, or possibly dying.

“And now…” Luo Binghe said, almost to himself, as he took Shen Qingqiu’s hips in both hands, and lifted him entirely in them (so strong!!)

“Shishu should definitely pay attention, if what he likes is watching,” Luo Binghe said, as he slowly slid Shen Qingqiu along the tip of his massive pillar from his balls backward. Liu Qingge maybe said something in reply, but Shen Qingqiu missed it. The fat head of Luo Binghe’s cock caught on Shen Qingqiu’s hole despite how slick the whole, uh, situation was. Was Luo Binghe really going to put it in like this?? Right in front of Liu Qingge’s no doubt staring face? With no hands?!? Shen Qingqiu’s fingers dug into the meat of Luo Binghe’s shoulders where it met his neck, closing his wrapped arms tighter around his husband.

He was definitely going to. And he, uh, did.

Slowly, thank god; and after a few centimeters he cupped Shen Qingqiu’s ass more firmly underneath with one hand and held him like that—one handed!!!—to reach back with the other and unhook Shen Qingqiu’s feet. He massaged along Shen Qingqiu’s—ok, a little cramped—calf and set the foot on the bed with a little pat, so he could put his weight onto the ball of it. Slowly and somehow without any further, uh, pillar progress, he repeated the process on the other side. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t, however, drop to his own knees, because he had a long way to go on that pillar, and then the height of both Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge’s hips besides. And all the while! What! Was! Liu Qingge! Seeing!

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu muttered into his husband’s hair, trying not to disrupt any of his fragile balance. There was no sound except a lot of breathing.

“Hmm?” Binghe replied, as his hands settled back on Shen Qingqiu’s ass, and he slowly started to rock Shen Qingqiu’s whole pelvis, in a wide anterior-posterior circle, inching him down and himself… in.

“Binghe, is he… watching?” Shen Qingqiu muttered, directly into Luo Binghe’s ear, as quietly as he could.

“Yes, shizun. He’s definitely watching.” Luo Binghe’s reply was smug, and… not at all quiet.

“Shishu, do you like what you see?” He asked, teasingly. Shen Qingqiu jerked. The audaciousness!

“I do, definitely,” Liu Qingge panted. “I never thought I…oh! Did he just squeeze you? Did I see it?”

“He did,” Luo Binghe sighed. His fingers kneaded Shen Qingqiu’s flesh even as he kept the filthy rocking going. “Oh, shizun, you feel so good on this miserable disciple.” The cheek! Thank god no one could see Shen Qingqiu’s face! He was probably literally on fire!

But Luo Binghe was merciless. “Shizun, what about you… do you feel good?” How! What! Was this! Could he have planned this…?!

“Shizun, it’s only to fulfill Liu shishu’s fantasy. This humble husband is sorry to be so vulgar. But Liu shishu did say he dreamed of… of shizun saying things to this disciple…”

With a little hitch of his breath, during that speech, Luo Binghe had tipped Shen Qingqiu’s hips backward and lifted him a few centimeters, and tugged him down, just slightly, at the same time that Luo Binghe thrust up, just slightly. Shen Qingqiu gurgled. And then on the downswing of Luo Binghe’s hips… yes, that was definitely a gurgle from Liu Qingge.

“Mmm, you’re almost there, shizun, just a little more. Husband. Tell me, tell me… do you like it?” His needy husband, his sticky disciple! Ahhhh why are you asking me this when I actually have to answer?!

Well, actually… it did make some sense.

Luo Binghe then added in a little reciprocal rock of his own pelvis, timed to meet Shen Qingqiu’s circling hips at their nadir. Luo Binghe wiggled and stretched a hand from the cheek of Shen Qingqiu’s ass out to its full width and managed to pet Shen Qingqiu’s rim with the tip of his index finder. But Luo Binghe’s rocking had a second beat to it, the first being when he… he massaged inside Shen Qingqiu… which, ah! It was… but the other was at the opposite end of the motion. He was…

Luo Binghe did it again. This time, there was an audible squelch. And at the same time, an explosive, ‘ah!’ From Liu Qingge.

“Do you feel that, shishu,” Luo Binghe’s chin was tucked over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. This was undoubtedly a trick question. Did they FEEL THAT. God, what was Luo Binghe’s face doing, to match that tone?! Were they making eye contact over his shoulder? Oh, god, just staring into each others’ eyes as he… and they…

“That’s shizun’s come you’re fucking into,” Luo Binghe purred. “He took me in this bed earlier today.” Luo Binghe paused, and then chuckled. In response to…?! What was happening back there?!

Meanwhile, all the rocking and squeezing and very, very targeted, er, internal, ah! massage had led them to, uh, the point. Shen Qingqiu let his breath out—had he been holding it?!—on a sigh as he let his weight come off his feet (what little Luo Binghe wasn’t supporting already) and rest fully on his hips. Which were resting firmly on Luo Binghe’s lap. Nobody moved for a moment—Shen Qingqiu unsure of what was next, Liu Qingge, was, uh, paralyzed, and Luo Binghe…?

“Don’t worry, shishu,” Luo Binghe added—

“I am definitely worried,” Liu Qingge somehow interjected, flatly as only he could, but Luo Binghe didn’t let it put him off his plans. Luo Binghe’s torso tipped slowly forward as he snuggled his strong right arm tight tight around Shen Qingqiu’s back, and gripped his opposite shoulder. The left hand—where—oh, he must be leaning his weight on it on the bed; although, when he put it down, it sounded more like a slap? A fleshy, uh, slap… Shen Qingqiu felt increasingly unbalanced. But his feet were under him, and Luo Binghe’s arm was like an iron bar around him, he was… probably fine…

Between Shen Qingqiu’s legs he felt Luo Binghe’s thighs tense up, and they both rose. Binghe! What! Are! You! Doing!

And then very suddenly it was very clear. Luo Binghe was going to ride Liu Qingge’s dick. Hard. As only the protagonist could ride.

It was really… masterful. Truly, Shen Qingqiu had seen Luo Binghe’s performance in the sensual arts improve in leaps and bounds over the years but this… this was… uh, it was… advanced…

Shen Qingqiu heard himself grunt out a very unsophisticated “uhhh” at each tiny bounce he took in Luo Binghe’s lap whenever Luo Binghe ground down during his very… aggressive, very… athletic… yes. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t jostled all that much, he… was basically made a part of Luo Binghe’s body, all of a big, sweaty piece with him, with just the hint of bodily lightness at the top, when Luo Binghe’s hips really, uh, drove them both, er, up… and a very, very dirty grind at the bottom, which Shen Qingqiu suspected his own weight then contributed to as they bottomed out on poor Liu Qingge. But Luo Binghe was… he was truly moving them… very fast, and very hard…

Luo Binghe somehow managed to turn to kiss his cheek, once, very quickly. “OK, shizun?” He asked.

“Nrgh,” Shen Qingqiu replied.

“Good,” Luo Binghe responded.

Liu Qingge, meanwhile, started out very quiet, once the, the… fucking began in earnest; at least, Shen Qingqiu… thought. Luo Binghe’s satisfied pants and “yeah”s in his ear were… distracting, but no one could possibly endure silently how truly ardently, sportively, aggressively Luo Binghe was fucking himself on Liu Qingge’s dick. Poor Liu shidi started out with ‘ah’ and moved to ‘ah!’ and then very rapidly to ‘ah, ah, guh—AH!’

Shen Qingqiu sympathized. At least Liu Qingge wasn’t able to form any embarrassing words. Although this was ALSO embarrassing… but on the other hand, it was maybe the hottest… certainly hotter than any, uh, comparable scene… though…

Shen Qingqiu might be biased.

“Are you going to come, shishu?” Binghe panted. “Does it feel good? Is it everything you never managed to dream of?” During this Shen Qingqiu could feel Luo Binghe’s massive dick jumping at each moment of emphasis in the speech, despite them not hitting with the… uh, the beat. Then the jumps sort of, transitioned into a rapid pattern… what was…?

Oh, Shen Qingqiu thought. He’s… squeezing Liu Qingge’s dick. He’s squeezing him and riding him. He’s going to… to milk the come from his dick…

“Yes,” Liu Qingge did manage to reply, sounding at the end of his rope. “Yes, you’re going to make me come, yes! Ah! AH! Fuck, it does, it feels so, so good, oh fuck, oh,” here he paused for a few really heartfelt AHs in a row. And what was maybe… a sob?

But that wasn’t the last question Luo Binghe had asked him, was it? Luo Binghe kept the relentless pace, his ass smacking wetly against Liu Qingge’s thighs, and every so often, there was… still… oh, god, there was a squelch…

“Luo Binghe!” Liu Qingge shouted. “Ah, it is—FUCK, it is more than I, ah,” a gulp, a few breaths, “I could never have imagined this. My brain is melting. I can’t—oh, oh—I can’t—“

But this apparently satisfied Shen Qingqiu’s husband, because he desisted. Well, verbally. And then—

Liu Qingge got even louder, which was… whew! And then clearly he… uh, because Luo Binghe stopped riding and started just grinding, keeping him apparently deep inside, and the jumps of Luo Binghe’s dick inside of Shen Qingqiu… stopped their staccato pattern and started just being… long, uh… strokes, strokes upward against Shen Qingqiu’s… fuck! And that must be so, so, uh— tight, around…

Liu Qingge made a truly, enormous, loud, deeply satisfied noise. It was probably the loudest noise Shen Qingqiu had heard him make, other than that of his sword against another. Luo Binghe rested, no longer moving, or… squeezing, but somehow still smugly. Shen Qingqiu began to catch his breath.

Which meant it was over. Thank… uh, goodness. Liu Qingge was cured. And now he and Luo Binghe could—well, tactfully withdraw… to, uh, Luo Binghe’s old room, he supposed? They could leave their bed to Liu Qingge to recover…

Shen Qingqiu patted the back of Luo Binghe’s head. “Thank you, Binghe,” he said. “That was… er, well done.” Was that was one said to one’s husband after said husband fucked the brains out of a friend, for… medical reasons? Honestly, given the source material, it was shocking this point of etiquette hadn’t come up sooner.

Luo Binghe wiggled a little, pulling Shen Qingqiu’s arms loose and pulling his own chest upright enough to look Shen Qingqiu in the eye. Liu Qingge, despite now being presumably free from his paralysis and compulsion to uncharacteristically contribute to conversations, made several pained noises at each wiggle—but didn’t appreciably move.

“Thank you, shizun,” Luo Binghe said, eyes sparkling, mouth—smirking? He kissed Shen Qingqiu on the nose, clearly so pleased with himself. “But though Liu Qingge is cured, you and I haven’t yet… finished.”

And with this Luo Binghe rose up on his knees again, and scooted rapidly backward on the bed, and dropped them both—still! Connected! At the ass!— between Liu Qingge’s legs. Shen Qingqiu was pressed back flat against—that must be—it was Liu Qingge’s sweaty chest—

Oh god, but Liu Qingge was cured now! What would…

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu shrieked, scrabbling at his husband’s shoulders. “Binghe, what…!”

Unfortunately he got no farther, because free from the need to—coordinate—the other end—Luo Binghe was very free to—focus. And oh fuck, he was… clearly, ah! Motivated.

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth was probably making—well, at least they weren’t words. At every stroke when Luo Binghe bottomed out, he lost… lost… his train of thought. Gradually he became aware that he could feel Liu Qingge’s… his equipment… in the small of his back. Wet, sticky— Shen Qingqiu’s back was jolting and sliding against it. It was… he could… it was easier and easier to feel it, every moment.

“Liu shushu,” Luo Binghe panted, much, much more out of breath than before—thank god! Shen Qingqiu was sure he couldn’t himself, oh! Oh, fuck…

“What,” Liu Qingge said. Or, well, gasped.

“Do you want to help me,” Luo Binghe asked. Shen Qingqiu looked up at his face—which, previously, as usual, in this, this… when they did this, had been pointed straight down at Shen Qingqiu, so Luo Binghe could watch him… because he probably very soon… and Luo Binghe was always able to tell, somehow, because he would usually at this point take his weight on one arm as he often did, and slide the other down…

But Luo Binghe’s face was tipped up. He was looking at Liu Qingge. Staring, more like—very intensely. But he was also, oh, no, that was not a promising smirk. Had Liu Qingge replied and he missed it?! Had he nodded?! Why am I not involved in this conversation!?

“Pinch his nipples,” Luo Binghe said! He! What!

“Not very hard, just sort of, rub them in-between your fingers. Don’t let up—don’t stop.” Luo Binghe turned his face back down to his quite! Quite put out! Very! Oh, but he was really putting his back into it now… Shen Qingqiu jolted and despite himself…

For a moment it seemed Shen Qingqiu would get away with it—WITH WHAT? His mind screamed—but he heard, over his own—breathing, that’s what that was, he was breathing loudly, not, not whining; there was a rustling—and then—

Shen Qingqiu looked down, and, somehow despite everything that had happened, was surprised to see Liu Qingge’s fingers creep across his chest to reach his… oh, oh! Fuck, it felt so good. And to think it was…! His stone-faced, gorgeous…! He was…!

Luo Binghe laughed. Shen Qingqiu screwed his eyes shut; it was too much. Especially when he could feel Luo Binghe’s weight shift, as he had previously expected, and he felt Luo Binghe’s huge hand softly land in-between Liu Qingge’s two grasping hands on Shen Qingqiu’s chest… and slide… down…

Well. Certainly under the circumstances he couldn’t help it. Who wouldn’t scream for the protagonist?!

In his confusion—after… Shen Qingqiu’s head and shoulders kept moving slowly up and down, deeper and more slowly as Liu Qingge recovered, because Shen Qingqiu was still… lying on top of him.

Luo Binghe meanwhile lay warm and gloating likewise completely on top of Shen Qingqiu, wooly head tucked in Shen Qingqiu’s neck, resting comfortably.

Though he did seem to be breathing deeply from the diaphragm, probably, Shen Qingqiu thought irritably, to emphasize the mess that slid between their bellies whenever he inhaled. And he hadn’t pulled out, which—honestly, Shen Qingqiu actually preferred. Both directions—in AND out—were an adjustment. Shen Qingqiu deserved a nice afterglow! It had been a really strange day! Though not… not entirely… not unenjoyable…

To hell with it, he was going to enjoy it. Luo Binghe had directed this little play, let him deal with the awkward end of the scene. Shen Qingqiu was going to sleep. Hopefully he would wake up in a warm bath sometime later with all of the… with everything resolved. And cleaner.

Surely, Shen Qingqiu thought, as he deliberately closed his eyes and exhaled, willing himself to float away as he often did after… damn it, after really good sex. Surely we will all simply never speak of this again, and continue on as before.

Yes. Surely.

THE END