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“Don’t look away, Crimson Rain,” Pei Ming says, a smug look on his face as he underlines each word with a thrust of his hips that pulls absolutely delicious moans from Xie Lian’s mouth. His eyes meet Hua Cheng’s, vicious with the knowledge that he has the upper hand as he adds, “It would be a shame to, hngh, miss the show after you so readily agreed to it, don’t you think?”
It’s a non-question, a clear tease that catches Hua Cheng on the hook and pulls him in close until he can no longer will himself to look away from the scene unfolding before him. His gaze drags achingly over Xie Lian’s body, caressing over the pink marks on his chest and the puddle of cum painted over his abdomen from when Pei Ming ate him out. Begrudgingly though, Hua Cheng has to admit that, having witnessed Heaven’s most notorious paramour in action in the very bed he shares with his husband every night, Pei Ming’s skills are impressive to say the least.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian sighs, the syllables dripping with affection as he twists his head back to look at the ghost king. From his current position, he has to strain a lot to see Hua Cheng. Above him, Pei Ming lets out a chuckle and then adjusts his angle on the next thrust, drawing a choked scream out of Xie Lian, quickly followed up by a syrupy, “General Pei—“
His voice is swallowed up by Pei Ming’s mouth, hot and wet against his own, moving with an ease that speaks of unfathomable experience. One hand, just as calloused from using the sword as Xie Lian’s own are, roams the hard planes of Xie Lian’s body, feeling the muscles relax and contract under the tanned skin, while the other moves leisurely to jack the other god off. His hair drapes down his shoulders and his back in wide waves, the tips probably long sticky where they tickle Xie Lian’s torso.
“Be careful, Ming Guang,” Hua Cheng says in a growl that is not nearly as threatening as he means it to be. He is met only with a muffled mewl from Xie Lian, whose nails trail long, red lines down Pei Ming’s back, legs curled up around a narrow waist.
Pei Ming pulls back from the kiss to grin at Hua Cheng mockingly and ask, “What? Worried that His Highness might get too attached to this Old Pei’s dick?” His smile deepens, charming as much as it is infuriating, and Hua Cheng can feel something decidedly weird stirring in his stomach. “Or are you worried that you won’t get your try at it?”
Hua Cheng opens his mouth to bite back a snarky remark but is cut off by Xie Lian throwing his head back in a moan and a guileless plea for, “Harder, General!”
Without hitch, Pei Ming obliges, the obnoxious, wet slap of skin on skin increasing as he bucks his hips into Xie Lian hard enough to shift them up against the blood-red bed sheets. His breaths come out faster as he nears his orgasm, eyes trained tirelessly on Hua Cheng until Xie Lian cums with a pleased sob. Pei Ming follows quickly, spilling inside and filling up the space Hua Cheng would usually take up, his own divinity mingling with Xie Lian’s within those narrow passes.
Hua Cheng kneels, frozen, on the bed, his erection straining painfully against his robes as he takes in Xie Lian’s satisfied expression, the foreign marks on his body, the man still buried to the hilt inside of him. He finds that he feels no anger nor jealousy and in absence of those he does not know what he is supposed to do.
“Crimson Rain,” Pei Ming calls out, gentler now. The look in his eyes softens as he reaches a hand out to cup Hua Cheng’s face, big rough palm cradling that cold cheek with a level of care that Hua Cheng would not have expected from him. “Come here.”
And so he does, shuffling closer and leaning forward to let Pei Ming pull him into a tender kiss, one much quieter and slower-paced than the brutal pace from just minutes before. Pei Ming drags his thumb slowly over Hua Cheng’s cheekbone and sucks nimbly on his bottom lip until the ghost king lets out a shaky exhale despite himself. Below them, Xie Lian watches them make out with rapt attention, a comfortable smile spread across his features.
“San Lang,” he drawls, the name long-since a singsong on his tongue, “aren’t you glad I can’t hold my drink now? Who knows if either of us would have told General Pei about our little… proposal otherwise?”
Hua Cheng huffs a laugh, one easily caught by Pei Ming’s dangerously soft mouth. His face burns with the same embarrassment he felt when Xie Lian very confidently waltzed up to the general during the banquet last week and proudly announced, “General Pei, you have very kissable lips. I would like to try them myself on day.”
Humming amusedly, Pei Ming pulls back and looks down at Xie Lian fondly.
“I don’t know about your little red ghost king,” he says, running a hand slowly through the straight strands of Xie Lian’s hair, “but I am most certainly happy that Your Highness has such horrible alcohol tolerance. Perhaps we should take care of your Crimson Rain Sought Flower next to make sure he has no regrets.”
With that, he reaches down and wraps a hand around Hua Cheng’s cock.