Work Text:
“Don’t make me beg for it,” Shen Qingqiu says, standing there before Liu Qingge, his clothing soaked in the sticky sap of Broken Heart Blossoms. He could smell it, that sweet, honeydew scent and felt his body slip into mindlessness. He could not fight it, he did not have the strength for it.
Shen Qingqiu, his face red as the petals of the Broken Heart Blossoms that surrounded him within the field, could not move from where he stands. His body grows hot, so hot that Shen Qingqiu is tempted then to tear his clothing from his body.
It would be best, some part of him says. To keep from further contamination. And to tempt Liu Qingge into being Shen Qingqiu’s cure.
The only thing that could reverse the effects of the Broken Heart Blossom is the seed of another inserted into an orifice of the affected.
Another part of Shen Qingqiu could not bear it—that vulnerability. Shen Qingqiu could not strip himself in front of Liu Qingge, all while his stupid shidi stands there with his mouth agape. Even if being naked might increase the chances of Liu Qingge slipping and landing inside of Shen Qingqiu.
“Sh-Shen Qingqiu,” Liu Qingge says smartly. He swallows. Shen Qingqiu watches the bob of his throat. “You can’t be serious…”
Liu Qingge, the mighty Bai Zhan War God, is afraid of the challenge before him: fucking Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu folds his arms over his chest, hugging himself tightly. Along with the heat of his body came a flash of cold. Shen Qingqiu shudders and feels his knees nearly give out beneath him. The Broken Heart Blossoms may act as a sort of aphrodisiac, but they give as well—just enough to tease, phantom sensations creeping along Shen Qingqiu’s body. At the same time, he could feel his chrysanthemum soften, so though to prepare itself for what might come next.
“If you don’t,” Shen Qingqiu says dangerously, “then this one will just have to find someone who is willing.”
There would always be someone. Broken Heart Blossoms are so often utilized in poisons, to ensure that the victim would be more agreeable to an aggressor’s advance.
There would always be someone willing to take advantage. Shen Qingqiu knows where to find these men.
Shen Qingqiu turns away, ready to march how ever many li in order to bring himself back to the sleepy little village that had sent a monster extermination request to all of the sects they could. Of course only Cang Qiong Mountain sect answered, rather than Huan Hua Palace, the closer sect. Of course Shen Qingqiu was sent with Liu Qingge. Of course Liu Qingge’s blundering left him vulnerable to the monster’s dying strike. Of course Shen Qingqiu saved him at his own expense—being thrown into the field of Broken Heart Blossoms by the beast’s tail strike.
And now, here they are. Shen Qingqiu, somehow the one to suffer through all the humiliation.
Shen Qingqiu shudders, a terrible chill rolling through him, one followed by heat. It’s debatable on which sensation is worse. Shen Qingqiu balls his fists in his robes, wrinkling the delicate fabric.
Beneath all of the layers he wears, his cock hangs heavily between his legs and his nipples grow uncomfortably hard, poking against his most inner robes. It’s uncomfortable, despite Shen Qingqiu knowing how soft his clothing typically feels against his skin.
Now it is only an irritation—a barrier to his needs.
(And they are needs, aren’t they? Shen Qingqiu’s poor chrysanthemum, still unbullied, twitches.)
Liu Qingge chokes. That much is obvious. It seems that his tongue is not a useful thing, only taking up room in his mouth where something else might settle. His face grows redder and redder until Shen Qingqiu is certain that all the blood in Liu Qingge’s body had rushed to his head.
“Shen Qingqiu…” Liu Qingge says, finally. Which is not an answer. Or anything useful.
Shen Qingqiu refuses to look behind him and starts to walk.
In a way, he had hoped that Liu Qingge would agree to get him out of this situation. It was his boneheadedness that got them here, after all. And despite everything, Liu Qingge had some shred of decency to him.
However small it may be.
Shen Qingqiu knows him. More than he would know whoever agreed to fuck him. Liu Qingge could take advantage of him, but the morals he held wouldn’t let him do anything that borders on cruelty.
“Wait,” Liu Qingge calls, his hand wrapping around Shen Qingqiu’s wrist. He swallows, the bob of his throat enchanting. “I’ll do it.”
Shen Qingqiu waits. “Well?” he says, when there is no further action. Liu Qingge’ hand, far too warm, could grab something more than Shen Qingqiu’s hand, but that’s where Liu Qingge’s hand settles.
“Not here,” Liu Qingge says. His heart is racing.
*
Quickly, Liu Qingge flies them toward the closest town, going so fast on Cheng Luan that all Shen Qingqiu could do was hold on for dear life. Shen Qingqiu stood on Cheng Luan, facing Liu Qingge. Or, more accurately, hiding his face against Liu Qingge’s throat, his hands wrapped around Liu Qingge’s waist. Shen Qingqiu’s leg rose, his knee nudging at the smaller Cheng Luan hidden within Liu Qingge’s robes.
(When Shen Qingqiu would think about this later, he would not know what to do with his embarrassment. But, for now, he had other pressing concerns.)
“Stop,” Liu Qingge says, choking on the measly word. The smaller Cheng Luan twitches as though to greet Shen Qingqiu. “We can’t— Not yet.”
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have words for the impatience he feels. The world is too hot, and yet here he is, shivering. Liu Qingge could make it all go away. Liu Qingge could make it all better.
But Liu Qingge isn’t because he’s an awful, awful man.
Shen Qingqiu sniffs.
“…Sorry,” Liu Qingge says. “We’ll be there soon.”
Sure enough Liu Qingge wills Cheng Luan to go even faster. When it comes to an abrupt end, Liu Qingge hops off, scooping Shen Qingqiu up into his arms, then over his shoulder like a sack of rice.
“Hey!” says Shen Qingqiu, face growing red.
Liu Qingge pats Shen Qingqiu’s hip in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but is most certainly not. “I’ll take care of you, shixiong,” Liu Qingge says.
Then Liu Qingge breezes inside of an inn. He throws money at one of the proprietor. “A room for the night.”
Shen Qingqiu can scarcely see what is going on through the curtain of his hair.
Money makes everything move smoothly, of course. Liu Qingge (and by extension, Shen Qingqiu) is shown to a room.
“Would the Immortal Masters like water for a bath to be brought up?” asks the innkeeper.
“No,” says Liu Qingge. A pause. “Maybe later.”
“The hour of the rat, perhaps?” The innkeeper says.
Liu Qingge considers it. Shakes his head. “Later. The hour of the ox, at least.”
Then, Liu Qingge lets the door slide shut behind him. He deposits Shen Qingqiu onto the bed with some gentleness. Then Liu Qingge joins him, seating himself gingerly on the edge of the bed while carding his hands through Shen Qingqiu’s hair.
“Are you with me, Shen-shixiong?” Liu Qingge asks, quite seriously.
Shen Qingqiu slaps away his all too familiar hands, fuming at the way he had been carried and how he had been treated like he did not exist. “Really?” Shen Qingqiu says scathingly. “How could I be anywhere else with you manhandling me like that?”
Broken Heart Blossoms didn’t make you lose your mind. They made you want so badly that nothing else mattered. That want would make you to agree to so many things…
Liu Qingge wouldn’t ask him for anything like that.
Liu Qingge withdraws, abashed. “This shidi apologizes.”
Shen Qingqiu huffs. Though they had somewhat been less at one another’s throat since Shen Qingqiu saved Liu Qingge in the Lingxi Caves, it couldn’t be said that the two of them got along. Now, suddenly, Liu Qingge remembers that Shen Qingqiu is his shixiong. How funny.
“You can use your mouth in a better say,” Shen Qingqiu says. He leans forward, looking at Liu Qingge hungrily. “We’re here, in an inn, and you’re still stalling. When will you make do on your promise? Or, perhaps, you’re having second thoughts? I can still find a willing stranger. It’s easier now, and I’ve got a room—”
Liu Qingge turns red and then quickly, before Shen Qingqiu’s addled mind can do anything about it, places his hand on the back of Shen Qingqiu’s neck, going in for a kiss. This kiss is more like a clack of teeth.
Both cultivators pull away, wincing in pain.
Shen Qingqiu covers the lower half of his face with a hand. “Shidi,” he says, so terribly bullied. What he wants is so fucking simple. How can Liu Qingge screw up this way? Or, when Shen Qingqiu thinks back to everything he knows about the man, he thinks about it in a different way. Maybe Liu Qingge likes pain. Maybe Liu Qingge likes to hurt others. Maybe if he offers this, Liu Qingge would hurry up and fuck him. “You can hurt me a different way.”
Liu Qingge blanches. “I don’t want to hurt you…”
Shen Qingqiu sniffs and reaches down, loosening his robes. If that didn’t work, then something else has to. He lets his outer robe slip down his shoulders, revealing the fine, pale fabric of the inner robes within. He had to do everything around here, it seems. Shen Qingqiu then opens his inner robes.
Liu Qingge chokes on nothing and spins away. “Oil,” he says. “We need oil.” Then he rummages about in Shen Qingqiu’s discarded clothing, pulling out one qiankun pouch after another.
Shen Qingqiu rolls onto his belly and reaches down, dragging his panties down the swell of his ass and the length of his legs until they’re caught by his ankles. Shen Qingqiu throws a look over his shoulder, knowing entirely how enticing (how easy) he may appear. “Shidi, you’ll have to help me.”
(If Liu Qingge doesn’t help him soon, Shen Qingqiu may just cry. His insides flutter, but there is no cock in him yet, is there? No, he’s just left painfully empty! It hurts, it really does, this emptiness! Didn’t Liu Qingge know that you could die from this need?)
Liu Qingge drops the vial of oil he holds. Thankfully, it doesn’t shatter.
When Liu Qingge collects himself, his face more red than Shen Qingqiu has ever seen it. He snatches the vial off of the floor and all but pounces onto Shen Qingqiu.
Shen Qingqiu’s poor panties snap when Liu Qingge tugs at them before they are promptly discarded.
“What are you doing?!” Shen Qingqiu says, hugging the soft pillow beneath him. Liu Qingge is a weight upon him. Liu Qingge’s hands are settled on Shen Qingqiu’s sides, stroking the expanse of skin bared to him.
“Using my mouth properly,” Liu Qingge says before he lowers his head.
And with that, Liu Qingge begins to help.
Shen Qingqiu lets out a moan when Liu Qingge’s tongue licks a flat stripe against his chrysanthemum, his fingers wrapping around Shen Qingqiu’s cock trapped beneath him. This moan only grows in length when Liu Qingge proves that his mouth could actually be skillful.
“Liu Qingge,” Shen Qingqiu cries out, his vision blurring with tears. “You could have done this so much sooner!”
Liu Qingge stops his administration.
Beneath him, Shen Qingqiu struggles and kicks Liu Qingge. “Why’d you stop? Liu Qingge, please continue!”
Liu Qingge opens the vial of oil and pours it over the expanse of Shen Qingqiu’s skin. A little oil dribbles over Shen Qingqiu’s unfurling chrysanthemum. Liu Qingge guides more oil to him, prodding, then inserting a finger.
“Be good, shixiong,” Liu Qingge says, searching for something inside of Shen Qingqiu.
“I can be good for you,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs. “But you have to be good for me too.”
Liu Qingge lowers his head. He presses a kiss to the small of Shen Qingqiu’s back. Then, his fingers find whatever he’s looking for. They must, because Shen Qingqiu gasps, a spike of pleasure running through his overheated body.
“You’re so loose. I didn’t do anything yet,” Liu Qingge comments, a certain awe to his words.
“Shut up,” Shen Qingqiu says, smothering himself in the soft pillow beneath him. Still, he couldn’t help but arch his hips to the thrust of Liu Qingge’s inquisitive fingers.
Liu Qingge’s hand pats at Shen Qingqiu’s side. “It’s good,” he says. “You need to be loose.”
When Liu Qingge with draws his fingers, Shen Qingqiu would not have expected for him to return with his cock. But, without warning, Liu Qingge pushes in, all the way to the root.
“D-doing good, shixiong,” Liu Qingge says, panting softly. “So tight.”
Shen Qingqiu shuts his eyes tightly. “Loose, tight, decide which one!” He says. “Liu Qingge, you can’t keep bullying me!”
Liu Qingge doesn’t answer, not at first. He’s too busy snapping his hips into Shen Qingqiu, no pace to the motion. One of them is suffering from the effects of the Broken Heart Blossom, and it’s certainly not Liu Qingge! “You’re good, so good,” is what Liu Qingge ends up saying.
Liu Qingge lowers himself, his lips to Shen Qingqiu’s neck. Then, Liu Qingge bites him.
“Ouch!” Shen Qingqiu kicks the bed beneath him, unable to wiggle his way out of this. But when Liu Qingge rolls his hips again, Shen Qingqiu loses any and all thought of escape.
It’s Liu Qingge who flips Shen Qingqiu over before capturing his lips. These kisses are just as clumsy and hungry as before, all teeth, no care. Still, Shen Qingqiu pants, raising his hands to cup Liu Qingge’s cheeks.
“You have to go faster,” Shen Qingqiu says quite seriously when they part. “You can’t just forget to move when you kiss someone.”
“I’ll move,” Liu Qingge says, just as serious. When Liu Qingge holds Shen Qingqiu’s hip and raises a leg to a kneel, Shen Qingqiu should have realized just what Liu Qingge was about to do.
Still, his addled mind is blown away when Liu Qingge begins to thrust erratically.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Shen Qingqiu says, all but bouncing with the motion. Tears pool at the corners of Shen Qingqiu’s eyes, then spill down his cheeks.
Liu Qingge is there to lick at his tears, to press kisses to Shen Qingqiu’s face. “Fast enough?” Liu Qingge asks, like an idiot.
For that, Shen Qingqiu leaves scratches all the way down Liu Qingge’s back.
*
One round isn’t enough for Shen Qingqiu. Two rounds might have been enough, but Liu Qingge found his second wind by then. Three rounds, then four. Water had been brought up and then left forgotten. A fifth round and the water had grown cold. After the sixth round, Liu Qingge realized what time it was and seemed embarrassed by it.
Shen Qingqiu scarcely remembers what happens. His eyes fall shut, all on their own.
A blink and Liu Qingge’s naked ass is there in front of him as Liu Qingge pours the buckets of water into a wooden tub.
Another blink and Shen Qingqiu is in the wooden tub with Liu Qingge, Liu Qingge taking care to wash and comb Shen Qingqiu’s hair.
Another blink and Shen Qingqiu is wearing clean inner robes and not much else.
Liu Qingge deposits them both in the bed, which had been stripped of the soiled sheets and replaced with fresh ones. Liu Qingge braids Shen Qingqiu’s hair simply.
“You can sleep,” Liu Qingge says, his glaze lowered. “I’ll take care of you, Shen-shixiong.”
Shen Qingqiu snorts but obeys. Too tired to think, too tired to dream. Held in Liu Qingge’s arms, he remembers nothing more.
*
In the morning, of course, it’s a whole other story.
All Shen Qingqiu can remember is how he had begged for Liu Qingge to fuck him. How he had suggested he’d find someone, some random person, to fuck him. How Shen Qingqiu made a show out of himself and how he removed his clothing.
Held in the prison of Liu Qingge’s arms, Shen Qingqiu grows redder and redder.
Shen Qingqiu grows redder still when he realizes the tiny scrap of fabric he can see on the floor had once been his panties!
Liu Qingge snores and turns over, taking Shen Qingqiu with him. At least then Shen Qingqiu can see nothing else of the mess they left the room in.
*
*
*