Work Text:
Shang Qinghua is literally being served up on a platter. Shivering under the hungry stares of Mobei-Jun and a handful of his closest demon vassals, he wonders how he got into this situation.
Okay, he knows perfectly well how he got into this situation.
He may have blabbed about nantaimori in great enough detail for Mobei-Jun to recreate both the set-up and the food with astounding accuracy.
And that's how Shang Qinghua finds himself spread out on a lacquered wooden platter large enough to serve up a whole Ice Wolf Boar. It's more than large enough to hold his measly human frame. He's carried into the private banquet hall by four imps and hums a funeral march in his head. Because he's going to die. Oh, he is so going to die, if not from actually being eaten – please no! – then from embarrassment.
He should have specified that his fantasy revolved around Mobei-Jun being the sushi platter and him being the one licking food off his sculpted chest, preferably while seated astride his well-endowed lap. Mobei-Jun's body temperature is low, making him perfectly suited for this role. It should've been obvious to everyone!
Shang Qinghua, however, had to be bathed in cold water beforehand until his nipples pebbled like two frozen peas and his lips turned blue. That had piqued Mobei-Jun's curiosity, and the preparations had to be put on hold until he was done eating out Shang Qinghua's mouth to the point where his lips were no longer blue but red and swollen.
That wasn't the only part that turned red and swollen, and while Shang Qinghua thanked the heavens that his poor dick which had shrivelled in the icy water managed to stand up so quickly, Mobei-Jun glared at it and ordered some kind of pouch to be brought. Shang Qinghua didn't catch the word he used for that thing but he found out soon enough when Mobei-Jun tucked his precious junk into a leather pouch and tied the attached strings around his waist and thighs. It was, for all intents and purposes, a sort of ancient jockstrap. A quite unyielding one.
His cock had throbbed in its leathery confines, way too interested in the rough handling it had received from Mobei-Jun.
But he was only carried into the kitchen without further ado and left in the hands of a few trustworthy servants from the kitchen staff. Mobei-Jun threatened them and every single member of their bloodlines with horrible deaths should they dare to touch Shang Qinghua in the process before he left with a swish of his cloak and returned to the banquet hall to mingle with his esteemed guests.
Arranging the food on his body took long enough for Shang Qinghua to turn antsy, a tingling sensation slowly creeping up from the soles of his feet to the roots of his hair. Embarrassingly enough, his erection just wouldn't go away, throbbing anew each time he had thought about how he was going to be served up as the main course for several mighty demon lords.
And now here he is, soy sauce on his tiddies...
Sushi-like foodstuffs and other snacks have been arranged on and around his body, and the four imps set him down carefully on a large table so that nothing is jostled off of him.
Shang Qinghua feels terribly naked under the gazes that rake up and down his body even though any offending parts have been covered in food – his chest, his navel, and his lap.
Mobei-Jun personally ties soft strips of black cloth around his ankles and wrists and secures them to the legs of the table.
Shang Qinghua's abdominal muscles tense. The last time he'd been spread out like this, he'd been on Mobei-Jun's bed, tied to the bedposts, and Mobei-Jun had fucked him with a jade pillar, stimulating his prostate until he was crying and cum spurted out of his untouched cock with every jab to that sweet spot inside of him.
Like that time, Shang Qinghua registers in the back of his head, he could slip out of the ties if he wanted to.
“So this is Mobei-Jun's human husband,” muses one of the guests, a tall, dark-skinned demon Shang Qinghua recognizes as the lord of a neighbouring fiefdom Mobei-Jun is closely allied with. He's a strong and capable leader, and Shang Qinghua will probably never be able to look at him again without blushing furiously now that he's seen him like this.
“Small,” a warrior from the wolf clan says. “Smells good.” He's covered in grey fur, shoulders massive as he leans over Shang Qinghua. He's a general of Mobei-Jun's army and whenever he came in to report, Shang Qinghua felt like darting behind Mobei-Jun and hiding himself in the folds of his cloak.
He doesn't allow himself to squirm this time. He can't disarrange the food placed on him. But it's hard to breathe under the wolf demon's glowing eyes and his overpowering presence.
It's not Shang Qinghua's fault! Mobei-Jun basically conditioned him to salivate for strong, handsome, cold types.
They all fall in that category, including the other two vassals. There's a tall scholar who wears his hair in a braid and whose elegant air reminds Shang Qinghua of Shen Qingqiu except he's a demon. Even the snow ogre possesses a rugged and brutish charm with scars marring his pale skin and an impressive necklace of Sabre-Toothed Fox tusks decorating his bare, hairy chest. He could easily lift Shang Qinghua in one hand.
Mobei-Jun steps around the table until he's behind Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua looks up at him, breathless at the dark lust he sees in his eyes.
Mobei-Jun takes out another strip of black cloth and blindfolds him.
“My king, my king-!” Shang Qinghua squeaks.
“Quiet,” Mobei-Jun orders. “The feast shall begin.”
Blood pools in Shang Qinghua's groin so fast he almost passes out.
He can't see under the cloth covering his eyes, no matter how much he blinks. He could turn his head and rub his face against his arms that are lifted over his head and tied to the legs of the table, rub until the blindfold comes off. It's not tied too tightly for that. But...
He doesn't want to.
He gasps at the ticklish feeling of sticky rice detaching from his skin when a sushi roll is lifted from his body. Slices of fruit and vegetables leave wet patches that cool in the air and give him goosebumps.
He almost cries out when a sushi roll unsticks from his perked nipple.
“Delicious,” a deep voice rumbles in his ear. He can't tell whose.
At the rate his body is heating up, the effect of the cold bath will be lost soon.
But the banquet guests seem eager to pluck all food items off his body. His right thigh is cleared before long, and a last grain of rice sticking to his skin is licked off by a tongue whose tip feels distinctly forked.
“Haa, my king... where are you?” Shang Qinghua's voice is shaking. His cheeks are flaming hot under the cloth of the blindfold. He's never had a stranger lick his leg before.
Footsteps approach. It's the sound of Mobei-Jun's boots.
Shang Qinghua knows this sound very well because sometimes he blindfolds himself and kneels in the middle of Mobei-Jun's bedroom, hands on his back, ears straining for the sound of his husband's return.
“Spare me a kiss?” he whispers and is rewarded with the cool, familiar press of Mobei-Jun's lips on his while the others keep eating food off of him. They have concentrated on the area around his crotch now. Shang Qinghua moans into Mobei-Jun's mouth.
There is some talk about politics and other things while the banquet lasts. The guests are amicable by demons standards, indicating that things are going well under Mobei-Jun's rule. Shang Qinghua isn't quite following the conversation as closely as he should because his thoughts have started swimming in his head.
He just really, really wants to get fucked right now.
Behind the blindfold, he thinks he wouldn't even mind if Mobei-Jun did him in front of his four vassals. His king could just slide into him casually while they keep talking about some minor uprising in the east, and Shang Qinghua would probably moan like a whore and thank him.
Like that one time he lay between Mobei-Jun's spread legs and took him down his throat, pulling off after each bob of his head to pause and say “thank you, my king.” Mobei-Jun had come pretty hard that time.
Between the five of them, it doesn't take long until they finish the food on and around Shang Qinghua. It makes him feel a new kind of light when all the small weights are gone, almost like he's floating. But at the same time, he misses the food items covering his body. Without them, it's only his naked skin left under the demons' hungry eyes, and he's never felt so exposed before.
They'll see everything...
The leather pouch will only be doing an insufficient job of hiding his boner. They'll all see how aroused he is. How depraved to let himself be used like an object, how wantonly he stays spread out under their gazes, a flush spreading down his chest, straining cock on display...
Something pinches his nipple hard.
He arches up with a scream, then slams his body back down, mortified at his own reaction to nothing but the little bud being squeezed between the tips of chopsticks and tugged. Someone chuckles. Someone else, probably Mobei-Jun, hums appreciatively.
A smooth voice says. “Apologies. There was a rice grain but it seems I missed.”
Shang Qinghua wants to whine at the blatant lie and demand justice. He imagines it was the demon scholar.
The brutish types are too straight-forward. They would just hold him down and fuck him until his hole is rubbed raw and his legs are left shaking for hours afterwards.
It's the scholarly types who always like to bully and tease him, don't they?
Shang Qinghua tries hard not to think about the fact that Mobei-Jun is a mix between the two types. He's really not sure how he survived being with him up until now.
Mobei-Jun rings for a servant and orders dessert.
Dessert! Shang Qinghua whimpers. He wants the guests to go home and Mobei-Jun to take him right here on this table. Preferably with the blindfold still on and maybe, just maybe, the kitchen stuff bustling around them cleaning up so that Mobei-Jun has to clamp his hand over Shang Qinghua's mouth to muffle his screams of pleasure. At least then they can only see him coming undone under Mobei-Jun, not hear him.
He doesn't want dessert, taking however goddamn long it takes to finish another course off his body while he's lying there trembling! If he has to go through that, he might just break and beg to be fucked in front of all of them!
“King Consort Shang seems unsatisfied,” the snow ogre leers. “He must be hungry. I'm sure the kitchen still holds enough in stock to fill his empty stomach to his liking.”
Something about those words makes Shang Qinghua gulp.
Mobei-Jun rings for another servant and gives a command too quiet for Shang Qinghua to hear. Anticipation rolls through him.
Not long after, someone wipes him down with a rough cloth drenched in cold water. He gasps for air when the wet cloth hits his chest but it's given no regard, like he's really nothing but a plate to serve food on right now. Once again a hot pulse of shame races through him.
While rice cakes are placed in a row down his chest and stomach – only five, thank god, they should be done with them soon enough – a gentle hand lifts his head and unties the blindfold. When the black strip of cloth falls from his eyes, Shang Qinghua blinks up into Mobei-Jun's beautiful face.
With his eyes, Mobei-Jun asks if everything's alright.
Shang Qinghua smiles at him, gaze filled with, ah, love, as sappy as it sounds.
“A kiss, my king?”
Mobei-Jun bends down over him and kisses him on the lips, upside-down, but still so perfect. His long hair falls down like a curtain, closing around their private moment.
Then he makes his way over to the other end of the table and unfastens the bindings around his ankles. He strokes cold fingertips along Shang Qinghua's legs the way he does sometimes before he grabs them and pulls them up around his waist, sinking right into Shang Qinghua.
Shang Qinghua lifts his head to watch him, almost waiting for it. Now that he himself can see, he feels the heated stares of the other demons prickle his skin much more acutely.
“Forgive this husband for feeding you an appetizer when we're already having dessert,” Mobei-Jun says in a perfunctory manner while he grabs a choice vegetable from a tray presented by one of the servant imps.
Heat flushes Shang Qinghua's face.
“Ah, why a cucumber?” He says out loud.
And now that he's started speaking, the rest just comes bubbling out even though he wants to kick himself.
“Is that all I'm getting to eat? Why not something a bit more filling- oh. Filling, yeah okay, I guess if that goes in my mouth it would look pretty full, is that what this is about? But why does it have to be a cucumber? If you want the visuals, there are so many other aptly shaped vegetables to chose from! A carrot would do the trick just fine. Want something bigger because, ahh? I'll gladly suck on a radish. Just, please, anything but a cucumber!”
His voice goes a little hysteric at the end.
Mobei-Jun ignores him. He grabs the back of his knee, lifts his leg up, and pushes the oiled cucumber into him.
Shang Qinghua arches up with a shout, straining against the bonds around his wrists. The rice cakes fall off his chest. One rolls over the edge of the table and is caught by the wolf general. He tosses it into his mouth, his wide grin showing off canines that have no business being so sharp.
“King Consort Shang's mouth was too busy,” the dark-skinned demon says.
“And he seemed hungrier for something down here,” the snow ogre says, watching the cucumber get swallowed into his body.
Shang Qinghua clenches hard around it.
He had expected something to go into him at some point in this evening. He had cleaned and stretched himself thoroughly, deep down hoping for... several somethings.
But of all the makeshift dildos Shang Qinghua has put into himself since his transmigration, he has never ever considered cucumbers. Only looking at them with that intent already makes him feel too dirty to go any further. And now his husband, his ideal man, his Mobei-Jun is fucking him with one and it's so deliciously wrong wrong wrong that he almost comes on the spot.
The way it's pushing into him, stretching him so wide... and that it's a cucumber... His thoughts wander to a certain person- Ah, oh, pointless! He would never! Not with Shang Qinghua. But he can't help imagining what it would be like if Mobei-Jun orchestrated it, subtly, much like he controls everything that's going on in this banquet hall. He has the say on who gets to touch Shang Qinghua where and what goes into him.
Or maybe they would... the three of them... Mobei-Jun would be lined up behind that person, and the momentum of his thrusts would push the other's hips into that spot between Shang Qinghua's legs...
Ah, no no, he has Luo Binghe. He wouldn't even have any interest in Shang Qinghua. And it's not like Shang Qinghua wants him to! He's not that desperate for recognition from his greatest critic. He wouldn't just spread his legs for him and-
Shang Qinghua glances surreptitiously at the demon scholar. That same elegance, that same cold beauty.
He forces down a moan and lets his legs fall open wider, letting Mobei-Jun fuck him with the cucumber.
Although he tried to be clandestine about it, the demon scholar noticed the flicker of his eyes. He takes it as an invitation to step forward and take a rice cake. It's one that's didn't roll far from Shang Qinghua's body. Sharp nails prick and scrape along the soft skin of Shang Qinghua's flank. The contact makes his cock twitch visibly inside its leather pouch.
Mobei-Jun looks up with narrowed eyes and slams the cucumber into him. When more than half of the long vegetable is lodged inside, Mobei-Jun leaves it there and pushes his legs close, giving his trembling thigh a condescending pat.
Shang Qinghua is seriously at his limit.
His stomach muscles won't stop clenching even though he's ashamed of how plain it is to see. He's grinding his hips down in little rocking motion, trying to feel more of the big intrusion inside of him.
Hazily he notes that the remaining three rice cakes are eaten and that Mobei-Jun is saying a few words to his guests, but his own breaths sound too loud in his ears to really make out the words.
“King Consort Shang has pleased us greatly.” He realizes he's being spoken to when several pairs of cold hands stroke over his body.
“We'll show him our appreciation.”
The four demons gather around him – five, counting Mobei-Jun but he only watches with silent hunger.
And then they take out their cocks and stroke them, standing over him.
Shang Qinghua gasps.
He's surrounded by the sounds of skin sliding over skin, grunts, and harsh breaths. His gaze flicks between them, their handsome faces and lecherous eyes, devouring his prone form.
He tries to stretch his torso and look even more inviting.
He feels precum leak out from his strapped-down erection and dribble over his own balls as he waits for them to release on him. Four large cocks of various shapes aimed at him... it's no wonder that his mouth is salivating.
Mobei-Jun hooks his hands under Shang Qinghua's knees and pulls his legs up.
“Mark him,” he commands. His ice-blue eyes glint with a slightly sadistic glee.
The expression is mirrored in the eyes of the other four demons as they stare down at Shang Qinghua's body and redouble their efforts to strip their cocks.
Shang Qinghua squirms under them and tries to close his legs to hide the way his cock is straining against the leather pouch that barely covers him anymore.
Mobei-Jun easily holds his legs open by the knees.
The wolf demon lets out a deep growl, and Shang Qinghua's gaze flicks to him, fear jolting through him as the sound triggers a primal flight instinct in him.
But his arms are bound tightly, his legs secured in the iron grip of someone even more dangerous. All he can do is whimper fearfully. His cock is throbbing like never before, making him squirm and whine nonsensical words in aroused shame.
The snow ogre grunts and spits in his big palm before continuing to jerk off his cock. Shang Qinghua almost chokes on his saliva when he sees the way the fat tip pokes out from the foreskin that's stretched taught around the immense swollen shaft.
And the demon scholar has barbs under the glans of his penis. It punches the air out of Shang Qinghua's lungs when he imagines them scraping his insides...
His gaze flicks up to that elegant face when he catches sight of a movement out of the corners of his eyes. The demon is licking his lips with a forked tongue. He catches Shang Qinghua's gaze and returns it with his lashes lowered over lust-filled eyes, the corners of his mouth pulling into a knowing smirk.
Shang Qinghua can't help but moan for him. He wonders if Mobei-Jun would agree to share him with that demon some time. He'd love to be skewered between them from both ends.
He flushes hotly when he feels the intensity of Mobei-Jun's gaze on him, no doubt seeing right through him and reading his mind. One cold hand slides down the inside of Shang Qinghua's thigh and palms at his package, Mobei-Jun never moving his gaze away from Shang Qinghua's. He keeps him pinned down with nothing but the power of his intense, blue eyes.
Shang Qinghua doesn't need restraints; just one look from those eyes would be enough to keep him waiting perfectly still in any position his king desires him in.
For a breathless moment, his world narrows down to the wonderful feeling of belonging completely, irrevocably to his king, his ideal man. Heart and mind captivated in his gaze, dick firmly held in his grip... this is how Shang Qinghua loves to submit to his own desires and to his king's.
And right now, that's getting marked by other men's cum.
For once, Shang Qinghua's usually so busy mouth is quiet, parted on a soundless moan, as he receives the first load with his willing body.
The demon lord from the neighbouring fiefdom comes with perfect aim, streaking across Shang Qinghua's lower abdomen. A small pool of white gathers in his belly button, spilling to the sides as he quivers. The wolf demon follows soon after, his cum a lot more watery, dripping in little rivulets down the sides of Shang Qinghua's stomach. It's much warmer than Shang Qinghua's body temperature. His ears heat when he closes his eyes and relaxes into the feeling. It's even hotter than his fantasies had prepared him for, but it also smells much stronger, making him feel so perfectly dirty.
He lets his legs fall open lewdly of his own accord and moans when the next load splatters across his chest. The warm and slimy texture reminds him of the pulp of some overripe fruit they'd eaten off of him earlier. He'll never be able to eat them again without thinking about sucking cock now.
“My lord,” the snow ogre says in his rumbling voice, and Shang Qinghua opens his eyes to see him and Mobei-Jun exchange a glance. The snow ogre has stepped closer and is towering over Shang Qinghua's head. He rubs his big, calloused thumb along the bottom line of Shang Qinghua's lips, his other hand still stroking his cock. He's holding the fat tip of it close to Shang Qinghua's mouth, and his intentions are clear.
Hand still pressed firmly over Shang Qinghua's bulge, there's no way Mobei-Jun misses the way his cock twitches when he sucks the musky smell of the ogre's dick into his lungs.
“You may,” Mobei-Jun says.
The ogre grunts a sound of appreciation and rubs his dick on Shang Qinghua's lips, painting them with the glistening liquid at the tip. Shang Qinghua darts his tongue out to caress the tip and steal a taste. It earns him more than one moan in the room, and his cheeks flush a deep red when he remembers the other onlookers.
The snow ogre comes in distinct spurts. The first lands on Shang Qinghua's cheeks, the next on his eyelashes, another one across his face, and the next adds messily to it. The rest is fed right into Shang Qinghua's open mouth. The ogre squeezes his shaft, running his hand downward until a thick glob gathers at the slit. It drops from his cockhead that's resting against Shang Qinghua's bottom lips, leaving him no choice but to receive it.
Shang Qinghua swallows it down, a long, obscene moan rising from his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut after that, unable to look at anyone.
Mobei-Jun chooses that moment to press down harder on his restrained dick and then he does something to remind Shang Qinghua of the long, hard object still lodged inside him. He wiggles the cucumber around until Shang Qinghua's muscles that were clenched hard around it as if they never want to let it go again have softened up thoroughly. Then he drives that damned thing into him with fast little jabs. It makes obscene squishing sounds.
Shang Qinghua's insides are completely on fire. His loose hole gets abused until he can't feel it anymore, and then he comes in the hardest orgasm he's ever had. He soils the insides of the leather pouch, coming so much that it spills out and runs over his balls, dribbling between his own legs and staining the wrist of the hand Mobei-Jun uses to keep fucking him with the cucumber.
He keeps shoving the fat thing into Shang Qinghua even after his orgasm until tears of overstimulation pour from his eyes and he whimpers. “Ah, please, ah, my king, please stop, ah, please please!”
Mobei-Jun takes his hands away, thankfully leaving the object in him. Shang Qinghua doesn't know what he would do right now without something thick in his ass for his muscles to clamp down on. He's still spilling whimpers and cries from his lips, but it feels so, so good he can't stop shaking apart in aftershocks.
Mobei-Jun unclasps the thick, richly embroidered cloak around his shoulders and throws it over Shang Qinghua's cum-covered body.
Shang Qinghua slides his aching wrists out of their bindings and burrows into the cloak. It's warm and safe and smells nothing like sex. It carries the scent of tea and frost flowers and Mobei-Jun's body. Shang Qinghua inhales deeply and curls into a more comfortable position, ready to go to sleep. The fact that his instincts don't scream at him that he's surrounded by five lethal demons and needs to get away speaks volumes about how exhausted he is.
He's vaguely aware of Mobei-Jun's voice delivering a short but courteous enough speech to declare the end of the banquet and dismiss the guests.
Not long after, everything is quiet and peaceful, and Shang Qinghua is scooped up into those strong arms that have come to feel more like home than anything else he's ever known.
He's carried through deserted hallways, flushing and twitching weakly when he realizes that Mobei-Jun has shredded the leather pouch but made no attempt to remove the cucumber in him. He can only hope that the cloak is long enough to hide this lewd makeshift dildo from view should anyone pass them by.
He's dumped unceremoniously into a large bathtub filled with warm water and something mild and herbal. He gasps for air before Mobei-Jun pushes him under again, and he thinks, oh, I'm being drowned like the useless cat in heat I am.
Still. “My king! Have I displeased you!” He cries when his head is allowed to break through the surface because he's nothing if not a self-preserving coward who would do anything to keep his life.
Mobei-Jun's hand stills on top of his head. Icy blue eyes narrow and look at him like he's beyond stupid.
“Then wha-”
Shang Qinghua's breath gets stuck in his lungs.
Mobei-Jun has let his robes fall down his body and is standing in front of Shang Qinghua in all his naked glory. His dick is standing up, so thick and swollen that it's purple. It's at perfect eye-level for Shang Qinghua. Stupidly, he leans himself over the rim of the wooden bathtub and opens his mouth. As if he's worthy of that treat. But he can't help himself, he whines in pure want.
Mobei-Jun pushes his face away, dunks him under water again.
Sputtering, Shang Qinghua comes up and pouts. “My kinggg... Whatever I did wrong, please tell me and I'll do better next time. I promise. I can be good. I want you so badly! Please use my mouth my king please fuck me any way you like oh god I'm so fucking ahh–!!”
Shang Qinghua has worked himself up into a frenzy, reaching behind himself and fucking himself with the cucumber. He's hard again, breathing shakily.
Mobei-Jun sits down in the bathtub.
Shang Qinghua overbalances when he's suddenly pulled between strong legs and topples over Mobei-Jun's body.
“You stink of other demons,” Mobei-Jun growls into his ear.
Shang Qinghua laughs nervously. He's feeling a bit light-headed as he tries to push himself up, hands resting on hard, wet pectoral muscles that he accidentally gropes a bit in the process. Mobei-Jun's huge erection is poking him in the stomach, reminding him that he can sometimes feel a small honest-to-god bump through his abdominal wall when Mobei-Jun pushes deep into him and gets the angle right.
“I'm just a rotisserie chicken,” he breathes.
“What.”
“Ahaha, nothing, my king, please don't mind me!”
He screams when Mobei-Jun pulls the vegetable dildo out of him, lifts him up like he weighs nothing, and seats him right on his cock.
He sinks down to the hilt.
Shang Qinghua never managed to take him this easily before. He goes boneless in his arms, blissed-out, feeling like putty around the only hard pole inside of him that's keeping him upright. Oh, he's really hanging off Mobei-Jun's cock this time, isn't he? He whimpers softly, totally on board with the idea of just being a cocksleeve for Mobei-Jun tonight.
Mobei-Jun props up his legs so that his knees poke out of the bath water before he pushes Shang Qinghua back to lean against the slope of his thighs. He pumps his hips into Shang Qinghua, rocking him on his lap, while he scrubs the other demons' cum from Shang Qinghua's front using only bath water and his hands.
He's surprisingly gentle.
It's a little like he's just feeling Shang Qinghua up which is ridiculous because there's not much to feel up. At least not in comparison to Mobei-Jun's amazing build. But Shang Qinghua can't deny the way heat trickles through him when Mobei-Jun tightens both of his hands in a grip around his midriff, as if he's taking his waist measurement with his bare hands. Shang Qinghua's breath hitches. Those hands are so big that they can span a very considerable part of the circumference around Shang Qinghua's lean waist.
“So tiny,” Mobei-Jun says and thrusts up hard.
“I think you're just very large, my king! In every aspect!” Shang Qinghua squeaks and cants his hips in a way that allows Mobei-Jun to slide even deeper.
They both moan at the next thrust.
Mobei-Jun uses his grip to hold him in place while he fucks up into him, not caring about the waves his rhythmic movements cause in the water, sloshing over the edges of the bathtub.
All Shang Qinghua has to do is hold on for the ride which suits him just fine. He thinks about playing with his cock but on the way down his stomach he gets distracted by Mobei-Jun's hands. He fills the gap between Mobei-Jun's thumbs by pressing down on his own stomach with his smaller hands. Like this, he can pretend that Mobei-Jun's grip reaches all the way around him or maybe that Mobei-Jun has locked him up in some device he can't struggle out of, a pillory, forcing him to stand bent at the waist and take whatever Mobei-Jun deems fit to push into his hole...
Mobei-Jun changes the angle, making Shang Qinghua yelp in surprise. Under his hands on his lower stomach he can feel a bump, small, but it's there. It's not his imagination. Mobei-Jun is really so big inside of his stupidly small body that the tip pushes up against Shang Qinghua's insides, distending the softest part of his lower stomach-
To let himself be taken like that... He really, ah... lost his chance of asserting dominance, didn't he?
But that was a laughable thought to begin with, from the moment he first hugged Mobei-Jun's thigh. No need to judge by their bedroom activities! If he wanted to, he could totally make Mobei-jun put out for him, too. If he whines and cries pitifully enough and complains about his back hurting, anything is possible.
So what if he doesn't want to!
So what if his back hasn't hurt in a long time, easily able to swallow Mobei-Jun's whole length now – and one or two additional fingers when he's really, really aching for that extra stretch.
Mobei-Jun pounding into him like this, that's the kind of beating he'd gladly take three times a day! He's not ashamed about it!
But even his thick face doesn't save his cheeks from heating and his knees from turning to jelly with every thrust from Mobei-Jun that pushes his insides up against the palms of his hands.
He's crying and babbling nonsense. “My, king, my king! Feel this!”
Grabbing one of Mobei-Jun's hands by the thumb, he pulls it away from his side and presses it to his lower stomach.
“That's you, my king. Can you feel it? Ahh! That's how deep you are inside of me, oh, nng, my king!”
Mobei-Jun has kept his composure so far. But at that, he falters. His eyes flicker and he forces out a low puff of breath.
It's the sound he makes when Shang Qinghua has riled him up enough to earn himself a rough, angry fucking, pushed up against a wall, with minimum prep.
Shang Qinghua shudders and comes untouched.
Mobei-Jun gathers him up in his arms and presses his shaking body against his cool chest. Leaning down, he crushes his mouth on Shang Qinghua's like he wants to devour him, biting at his lower lip and pushing his tongue against Shang Qinghua's useless one, taking up as much space in his mouth as he wants to. Shang Qinghua whimpers as he feels his dick twitch weakly and release one last spurt, a fleeting bit of warmth in the cooling bath water.
Mobei-Jun runs his hands down the curve of his back as Shang Qinghua's clings weakly to his body like a drugged koala. Mobei-Jun grabs his buttocks and squeezes harder than he has to but it never fails to give him the desired result – Shang Qinghua dropping his forehead and sobbing into the curve of Mobei-Jun's neck, pained and aroused, as his hole flutters around the cock inside of him.
Mobei-Jun grinds his hips in little circles and kneads his fingers into the supple flesh again and again. It makes Shang Qinghua's body squirm and clench every time, using him to milk the orgasm from Mobei-Jun.
Shang Qinghua stills on a gasp as he feels familiar coldness spread inside of him.
He slaps Mobei-Jun's shoulder with every last bit of strength he can muster and pushes himself off his lap. His legs are wobbling, he's a complete wrecked mess, and Mobei-Jun's eyes are raking over him with a hint of satisfied mirth.
“Clean this!” Shang Qinghua cries. “I told you, not inside!”
Mobei-jun rises to his feet with a mighty splash and bends him over the edge of the bathtub, inspecting his hole.
Shang Qinghua whimpers as he feels something cold run down his legs, not sure if it's water or cum. The embarrassment drains the fight out of him.
Mobei-Jun pulls him up, one hand around his throat, the other fondling between his legs. Cool breath fans over Shang Qinghua's ear when Mobei-Jun growls. “Not today. You keep this inside and keep it well or I'll find that cucumber and plug you up with it.”
“Understood, my king!” Shang Qinghua squeaks and shamefully grinds down a little on those fingers that play with his hole.
Mobei-Jun hums and releases him, lifting him out of the bathtub.
He rinses Shang Qinghua's exhausted body with his own two hands, with warm water from a bucket he has thoughtfully set aside before. He knows the bath water doesn't stay warm for long when he joins Shang Qinghua in the tub, and Shang Qinghua always complains and threatens that he will catch a cold.
Wrapped in a big, warm cloth, Shang Qinghua is thrown over Mobei-Jun's shoulder and carried to their bed.
It's not bridal style, but that's totally fine. Shang Qinghua is not a bride!
He's also not a sack of rice, but details, details.
What really matters is that he's in Mobei-Jun's arms, allowed to cling to his cool body and gaze up at that beautiful face, drinking his fill, until he falls asleep.
And Mobei-Jun will huff in indulgent annoyance and sleep as peacefully as he only can with Shang Qinghua, knowing that even if he were lying next to him deadly injured Shang Qinghua wouldn't off him to usurp his power.
Shang Qinghua won't leave him, and Mobei-Jun won't chase him away.
For this lifetime, forever, they had promised each other.