Work Text:
In hindsight, Shen Qingqiu maybe should have guessed he was being followed.
But in his defence, the very idea seems absurd. How could he, a Peak Lord from arguably the most prestigious sect in the mortal realm, fail to notice someone stalking him? A cultivator’s senses are far superior to those of an average person; he can hear a leaf being cut in half from twenty metres away, for goodness sake. How could this have happened to him?
Staring up at his assailant, he thinks, Probably because my stalker was the protagonist. Of course, not even the powers of a Peak Lord can match up to the protagonist’s godly golden halo.
As Luo Binghe smirks down at him, Shen Qingqiu realises that all those flashes of movement in the corner of his eye, all those dark shapes he’d convinced himself weren’t a person hiding in the shadows, all those times he’d come home to find things just so slightly out of place - none of that had been his imagination.
Now Binghe has finally shown himself, pouncing from out of the shadows and pinning Shen Qingqiu to the floor under his weight. He looks decidedly like the cat that got the cream.
Ready to write this all off as some strange flight of fancy, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even ask about the stalking. “When did you get back?” he says, making sure to keep his tone flat and unimpressed.
“Two weeks ago,” Luo Binghe says.
Two weeks?! Shen Qingqiu frowns. The idea that Binghe has been able to keep this ruse going for that long without giving up or giving himself away doesn’t quite ring true. Despite deciding not to ask about it, Shen Qingqiu says, “Why didn’t you come and tell me you’d arrived?”
Luo Binghe cocks his head, his expression morphing into a sort of amused confusion. “Shizun would have welcomed me?”
“Obviously?” Shen Qingqiu can’t shake the feeling that something very odd is going on here - that there’s some important piece of the puzzle that he’s missing.
Luo Binghe’s grin turns positively wicked. “Then, Shizun won’t mind returning with me?”
“What?” Shen Qingqiu says, bewildered. Why would Binghe want him to return to the northern demon realm with him?
“I thought I would have to drag Shizun home kicking and screaming,” Luo Binghe says, pulling Shen Qingqiu to his feet. “But if Shizun wants to come with me, then that’s fine too.”
Home? A horrible suspicion is beginning to grow in Shen Qingqiu’s mind, even as Binghe turns and leads him outside. This is the replica Bamboo House in the demon realm; for all intents and purposes, they are at home.
Feeling nerves flutter in the pit of his stomach, he opens his mouth and calls, “Husband?”
Just for a second, Luo Binghe falters, an undisguised look of shock crossing his face. He recovers quickly, turning and saying, “Yes?” with a sweet smile on his face, but there’s none of the usual ecstatic joy that always enters his eyes whenever Shen Qingqiu calls him that.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t waste time on words, or on trying to attack; instead he turns and runs, summoning Xiu Ya with a wave of his hand. A futile attempt, maybe, but…
Something lands on his back like a ton of bricks, sending him sprawling in the dirt. Luo Binghe’s voice, just by his ear, says quietly, “And here I thought Shizun was so willing…” He might be imagining it, but Shen Qingqiu thinks he hears a thread of disappointment in his tone.
“I am not going anywhere with you,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, but really, if Bing-ge wants to drag him off somewhere, he can’t exactly delay the inevitable.
Shen Qingqiu hears the hiss of a sword being drawn from its scabbard, and Bing-ge says in his ear, “Don’t worry, Shizun, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
Then something hits the acupoint in his neck, and the world goes dark.
*
Shen Qingqiu wakes suddenly, a sense of danger jerking him back to full alertness with a painful jolt.
Something restrains him when he tries to move. He tugs at it, but there’s only a certain amount of give; he can wriggle his body around, maybe even flip over if he tried hard enough, but he has been carefully and expertly restrained.
Fighting down the panic in his chest, he lies still and takes better stock of the situation. He’s lying on a soft bed, on top of the sheets; the bed is surrounded by several layers of gauzy white curtains, blocking off his view of the room beyond. When he shouts, “Hello?” no one answers, but he can tell from listening to the echoes that the room is fairly large.
The thing restraining him is several lengths of glossy, bright red silk, wrapped artfully around his limbs and chest, allowing him to lie comfortably while still attaching his arms and legs to either end of the bed. Other than that, he’s completely naked. Apparently both Binghe’s have a bondage kink, he thinks, trying unsuccessfully again to pull himself free of the restraints. When he tries to summon spiritual power, nothing happens.
Footsteps sound in the room beyond, and then the bed curtains are pulled back; it’s Bing-ge, of course, smiling down at him. “You’re awake, Shizun,” he says, reaching out to caress the side of his face.
Biting him would be below Shen Qingqiu’s dignity, but for a moment he seriously considers it. He doesn’t need to ask what’s going on here - Bing-ge’s intent is blindingly obvious - so instead he just glares up at him, trying to ignore the sick nerves squirming in his gut.
“Don’t look at me like that, Shizun,” Bing-ge says, tone gently reproving. “Didn’t I tell you I would ensure your pleasure?”
“I didn’t ask you,” Shen Qingqiu snaps.
“I’m a good student, so of course I know what Shizun needs before he has to ask.” Bing-ge moves away again, and Shen Qingqiu hears fabric rustling. When he comes back he’s also naked, all perfect pale skin and hard muscle. He sits down on the bed next to Shen Qingqiu’s prone form, running a finger across the red silk twined so beautifully around his body. “It’s threaded with Immortal Binding Cable, so there’s no point trying to use your powers, Shizun.” While Shen Qingqiu curses internally, Bing-ge cups his face and leans in. “Instead, just let this disciple take care of you,” he whispers, before pressing a kiss to Shen Qingqiu’s lips.
Shen Qingqiu keeps his lips pressed closed, and Bing-ge doesn’t force him to participate - for now, at least. When he draws back, Shen Qingqiu says sardonically, “So you’ve decided not to tear my limbs off this time?”
“I won’t hurt Shizun for real,” Bing-ge says, all faux-sweetness.
“Yes? Then what happened to the Shen Qingqiu from this world?”
Bing-ge’s face goes very cold, and Shen Qingqiu internally kicks himself for bringing up the original version of his character. What a thing to remind him of, right when Bing-ge has him completely at his mercy!
“That man… he was nothing like you,” Bing-ge says, running his fingers through Shen Qingqiu’s hair, a little crease between his brows. His face twists as he adds, “He received everything he deserved.”
Shen Qingqiu nods quickly, grasping at anything to take them off the subject of the original Shen Jiu. “Well… this master would prefer being returned to his own world. And being able to move.”
Bing-ge’s smile returns, but it isn’t an expression that inspires any answering happiness in Shen Qingqiu. “Ah, but I like Shizun like this - all tied up and helpless…” He trails a hand down Shen Qingqiu’s bare chest, sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin. Bing-ge’s hands start to explore his body; brushing up the insides of his thighs, skimming lightly up his sides, the pads of his fingers dragging over his neck. He leans over and presses a kiss to the hollow of Shen Qingqiu’s throat, and says against his skin, “I think Shizun likes it when I touch him like this.”
Shen Qingqiu’s body certainly appreciates it; the touches send waves of shivers all over him, low heat already pooling in his veins. Bing-ge sets to pressing kisses to the side of his neck, his hands moving everywhere; it feels like he’s aiming to touch every inch of Shen Qingqiu’s skin, like he knows exactly how much that makes Shen Qingqiu want to melt into a little puddle in his hands. Bing-ge’s teeth dig lightly into the juncture between his shoulder and neck as his hands finally span Shen Qingqiu’s ass, squeezing a handful in each, one finger slipping in to just barely graze against his hole.
Bing-ge leaves one hand there, alternating between groping his ass and brushing against his hole, while the other comes around and begins to stroke lightly up and down Shen Qingqiu’s already hard dick. “You like this, don’t you, Shizun?” Bing-ge whispers in his ear, breath hot against his skin.
Shen Qingqiu can’t deny that - Bing-ge seems to know exactly what his body wants even before he does, seems to know exactly where to touch him to elicit the most satisfying reaction. Probably from all his experience fucking all three hundred harem members - or had he actually, once or twice, touched the original Shen Qingqiu like this, before making him into a human stick? Had it all been part of the torture?
If his choices with Bing-ge are human stick or unwilling lover, most people would probably say he’s got the better deal, overall. Shen Qingqiu would tell them that both kind of suck, actually.
A moan finally escapes past Shen Qingqiu’s lips as Bing-ge’s hand returns to his dick, now slick and wet with something, probably oil. Bing-ge kisses him on the lips again as he works his hand up and down his dick, and this time Shen Qingqiu doesn’t bother resisting. As Bing-ge deepens the kiss, exploring his mouth with his tongue, his hand the perfect blend of fast and slow on his cock, Shen Qingqiu gets lost in the sensations. His brain caught in a pleasurable fog, he barely even notices when one of Bing-ge’s slick fingers starts to explore his hole. He even automatically tries bringing his arms up to circle around Bing-ge’s neck, before the silk wrapped around his wrists brings him up short.
Soon enough Bing-ge has fingered him slick and open, Shen Qingqiu panting and gripping the sheets above his head as Bing-ge’s fingers slide in and out of him. It’s only when he removes them and settles down over him, the weight of his body hot and heavy and solid, and the head of his cock nudges against him that Shen Qingqiu realises with a jolt that this is actually going to happen. Bing-ge is going to fuck him, whether he likes it or not. It was obvious from the start, of course, but now it’s here-
He tenses up, and Bing-ge presses a kiss to the soft skin behind his ear. “Don’t think about it too hard, Shizun,” he breathes, “Just relax.” Even as he says it the head of his cock presses against Shen Qingqiu’s hole for a second before slipping inside with a little wet sound. Shen Qingqiu gasps, clenching around him - but it feels nothing but pleasurable. Bing-ge kisses up the side of his neck, and repeats the same action several times - pulling back until he’s only pressing against Shen Qingqiu’s hole, then slipping just the head back in, opening Shen Qingqiu up to him again and again. Shen Qingqiu is gasping, relaxing around the intrusion, practically welcoming it, by the time Bing-ge slips in a little further. He takes it so slowly, drawing it out until Shen Qingqiu is almost begging him to just thrust all the way in, to get all that hot thick length inside him.
He should feel bad, maybe, about the way he moans and arches his back as Bing-ge gets all the way inside him, but he can’t help it. Being fucked unwillingly - being raped, he tells himself, let’s call it what it is - being raped should not feel this good. He doesn’t want Bing-ge to fuck him, and yet at the same time, it’s all he wants. His cock feels so godamned good inside him, each slide out and thrust in setting fire to every one of his nerves. If the red silk weren’t holding him in position on the bed Shen Qingqiu knows he would have his legs wrapped around Bing-ge’s hips by now, his arms looped around his shoulders, clinging onto him as if welcoming being treated like this. It’s too much, too confusing, and in the end Shen Qingqiu’s brain quietly sets the moral quandary aside, opting to focus on how fucking good the angle Bing-ge’s thrusting into his body makes him feel.
Bing-ge kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, and this time Shen Qingqiu kisses him back, their tongues sliding together hot and wet. “You feel good, don’t you, Shizun? Tell me,” Bing-ge says - and words spill off Shen Qingqiu’s tongue in response, disjointed nonsense about how good he feels, how he doesn’t want Bing-ge to stop. Bing-ge growls low in his throat, and starts fucking into Shen Qingqiu harder, faster, taking both his wrists in a tight grip and pressing them into the bed. Shen Qingqiu moans and gasps into his ear, completely lost in the feeling.
It feels like Bing-ge fucks him for hours, the pleasure making Shen Qingqiu’s head spin. Eventually, though, his hand returns to Shen Qingqiu’s dick, and he comes as if on command, his mind going completely blank for several long seconds, his vision dark.
When Shen Qingqiu comes back Bing-ge is still inside him, but motionless now, his body draped hot and heavy over him as he presses gentle kisses to Shen Qingqiu’s face. For a while all Shen Qingqiu can do is lie there, panting, letting him do it. Even when he gets his breath back, with his hands bound above his head, there’s nothing he can do to push Bing-ge away. He can do anything, Shen Qingqiu thinks, so long as he has me bound here in the Immortal Binding Cable; he might not be so nice and considerate next time. The thought cuts through Shen Qingqiu’s post-orgasm relaxation like a cold, sharp knife.
Bing-ge feels him tense up. “What’s wrong, Shizun?” he whispers against his mouth.
What isn’t! Shen Qingqiu thinks, somewhere between indignant and hysterical. “Are you going to let me go?” he asks, tugging at the bonds around his wrists.
Bing-ge laughs. “Where would be the fun in that?” he asks, and Shen Qingqiu’s heart sinks. Bing-ge sits up and lets his cock slip out, leaving Shen Qingqiu feeling uncomfortably wet and open, then he gets up off the bed, wrapping himself in a long white robe. With a wave of his hands, the restraints loosen just a little, enough to allow Shen Qingqiu to lie more comfortably without letting him anywhere near escape or even rising from the bed. “You just stay here and relax, Shizun,” he says, “Let this disciple go and take care of some things.”
“Wait- Binghe-”
But Bing-ge is already gone, disappearing through the curtains to the room beyond. Shen Qingqiu gets a glimpse of what looks like an elegantly appointed bedroom, before he’s once again trapped in the insulated little world of the bed. He shifts, but there’s still very little give in the silk ropes. He’s uncomfortably wet and sticky between his thighs, the come and oil drying on his skin, and he wishes Bing-ge had at least thought to take him to the baths before abandoning him here. Then again, ‘good at sex but not a considerate lover’ describes the original novel Luo Binghe’s personality to a T, so Shen Qingqiu really shouldn’t be surprised.
He wriggles around for several minutes, but only succeeds in making himself more uncomfortable; the ropes don’t move or loosen an inch. Eventually he flops back on the bed, defeated. Apparently all he’s allowed to do is wait on Bing-ge’s whim; with his spiritual powers blocked, he can’t even meditate properly.
Shen Qingqiu waits for what feels like hours. There must be a window somewhere in the room, because after a while he sees a slice of light hit the curtains, golden like the setting sun. He watches it creep downward, feeling hypnotised by the warm bar of yellow-gold, his eyelids drooping as it sinks lower and lower.
Without really meaning to, Shen Qingqiu falls asleep.
*
His dreams are chaotic and confused, blurred and disorientating in a way that suggests they’re not being controlled by Bing-ge’s dream powers. Not that Bing-ge is absent from them; Shen Qingqiu feels his hands against his skin, hears his voice whispering low in his ear, the words indecipherable. Shen Qingqiu rocks back against the hard body behind him, feeling pleasure spark through him as Bing-ge’s cock sinks inside his hole. Now he’s even dreaming about the man - is it not enough to be fucked by him in the waking world? His own head at least should be a sanctuary-
Wait.
Struggling his way back to consciousness, Shen Qingqiu blinks his eyes open. For a second he thinks the world has turned over around him while he slept; then he realises he’s just been flipped onto his front, his cheek pressed against the sheets as he’s rocked backward and forward by the strong, solid body behind him. Shen Qingqiu gasps, tensing around the hot, thick cock burying itself deep inside him-
“Ah, did I wake you up, Shizun?” Bing-ge whispers in his ear, breathless and teasing.
Shen Qingqiu bites his lip, trying to hold back a moan. He’s already wet and open around that huge cock, Bing-ge’s hands wrapped around his hips keeping him up on his knees while his face rubs against the soft sheets. His hands are still loosely bound, opening and closing around two fistfuls of the white fabric beneath him as Bing-ge continues to fuck into him mercilessly. Shen Qingqiu turns his head and buries his face in the bed, cheeks burning. While he was asleep- did he respond as if he wanted Bing-ge to fuck him? Did he welcome him, unconsciously begging for his cock?
“Sorry to wake Shizun up so early,” Bing-ge breathes in his ear, “But you looked so good, so beautiful and innocent, just lying there asleep… this one couldn’t help himself…”
Bing-ge shifts upward, changing the angle, and when he thrusts in again he hits a spot deep inside that makes Shen Qingqiu jerk his hips back, a moan ripping up through his throat. Bing-ge makes a warm, pleased noise, kissing his throat, and keeps fucking him exactly like that, hitting that same spot again and again.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t last very long after that, coming with a burst of pleasure that feels like lightning exploding in his gut. Bing-ge keeps going for a while, seeking his own release; everything is too much, too sensitive, and Shen Qingqiu’s mind is spinning by the time he finally feels Bing-ge’s hot come spill inside him.
Bing-ge pulls out of him quickly this time, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he settles down so Shen Qingqiu is lying in his arms, face to face, and starts gently stroking his hair.
Exhausted, Shen Qingqiu rests his head against Bing-ge’s collarbone. There’s the beginnings of a headache starting behind his temples, his body aches in several inconvenient places, and his thighs are sticky again, his hole uncomfortably loose and wet.
“Is Shizun upset?” Bing-ge says. The way he asks makes it sound like he’d be amused rather than contrite if Shen Qingqiu said yes.
You could have at least asked, he thinks, but that’s stupid - Bing-ge didn’t ask the first time, after all. “I want a bath,” he grumbles, which makes Bing-ge laugh.
“Of course, if that’s what Shizun wants, then-”
Bing-ge stops halfway through his sentence, his head lifting off the bed, suddenly alert like a hound that’s scented a rabbit.
“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu questions, peering up at him.
Bing-ge’s face darkens. “Wait here, Shizun,” he says, “I will be back soon.” With that he gets up and goes away quickly, even forgetting to pull the bed curtains closed in his hurry. The silk ropes are looser around Shen Qingqiu’s body now - still not enough to let him get off the bed, but he can sit up and take a look around. The decor in the room beyond is similar to the inner rooms of Huan Hua Palace, but it’s not any part he’s seen before, so this must be deep within the building. Bing-ge’s private sanctum?
Shen Qingqiu lies back down, sighing to himself. Once again he’s been left alone and uncomfortable, with not even the consideration of-
A loud bang cuts into his thoughts. Shen Qingqiu blinks and leans up on one elbow, turning his head toward the noise. That sounded like something being destroyed - a wall, maybe-
More loud bangs and crashes follow, slightly muffled by distance and the walls separating Shen Qingqiu from what is quite obviously a rather energetic fight going on somewhere within the Palace. He frowns; in this world there’s no Liu Qingge to burst in and rescue him, so who on earth could be fighting with Bing-ge?
Only a minute later the wall of the room suddenly acquires an impressively large hole, splinters flying everywhere as a powerful sword blow splits the wood. Shen Qingqiu ducks below the headboard of the bed, opting for hiding from the intruder while he still doesn’t know their identity. A second later, a familiar, desperate voice calls, “Shizun!”
Shen Qingqiu peeks up from behind his meagre wooden shield to see Luo Binghe looking frantically around the room. When he spots Shen Qingqiu, his whole face lights up. He hustles quickly over to the bed and stops short when he sees that Shen Qingqiu is tied up and completely naked.
As Luo Binghe glares at the red silk and looks as if he’s contemplating severing it all with one sword stroke, Shen Qingqiu internally berates himself for being an idiot. Of course the most likely person to come rescue him would be Bing-mei - and the most successful person, given that he has his own protagonist’s halo. But how-
“I told you to destroy that sword!” he exclaims, seeing that Bing-mei has his own version of Xin Mo strapped to his hip.
“How would I have rescued Shizun without it?” Bing-mei says, which, well, Shen Qingqiu can’t exactly refute that point. He has no doubt that with enough determination and all his blessings as the protagonist, Bing-mei would’ve found some way to rescue him eventually even without the demonic sword, but this way is certainly easier.
“Well, hurry up and-”
But of course, before Shen Qingqiu can effect an escape, something moves fast and bright in the corner of his eye. Bing-mei brings Xin Mo up in time to block the strike from Bing-ge, but the power of the blow still knocks him back several paces. Bing-mei recovers quickly, a strike of his own putting Bing-ge on the defencive.
They trade blows like that back and forth, tearing up the room around them. Shen Qingqiu is even more acutely aware of his helplessness and vulnerability as splinters and fragments fly everywhere, threatening to hit his naked body; he burrows under the covers in a futile attempt at protection.
It seems churlish to criticise Bing-mei’s rescue attempt, but so far, this is not going well.
Shen Qingqiu hears a distinct crack that sounds awfully like a breaking bone. Poking his head out from under the bedsheets, he sees one of Bing-mei’s arms is hanging uselessly. Sick fear spikes in his stomach - until Bing-mei strikes out and deals a similar injury to Bing-ge in turn. Bing-ge gets a solid hit in on his face, and Bing-mei’s next swing catches him in the head, driving him backward.
Shen Qingqiu can almost see the System seizing up, freezing and malfunctioning as it tries to decide how to solve the problem that, with their bright golden halos, neither Luo Binghe can be allowed to lose.
Another bone breaks with a sick crack, and Shen Qingqiu suddenly fears that the solution might be to leave them both so broken that they never get up again.
“Stop it!” he yells, “Binghe, stop!”
He doesn’t address either of them directly, so of course they both stop.
“What’s wrong, Shizun?” Bing-mei asks, wiping blood out of his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Shizun, I’ll soon send this idiot back where he belongs,” Bing-ge says at almost the same time.
While they glare at each other, Shen Qingqiu presses his fingers to his temple and shuts his eyes for a second. Really, all he wants right now is a long, hot, luxurious bath.
“Neither of you can win outright, and there’s no point in each of you destroying the other,” he says, trying for a reasonable tone.
Bing-mei regards his double with disgust. “Shizun means… he thinks we should get along?”
Shen Qingqiu would settle for just ‘you should not kill each other’ at this moment in time, but the two of them getting along would be a lot less of a headache for him. “Yes, you should get along,” he says, giving both Luo Binghe’s a significant look.
While Bing-mei continues to look repulsed by the idea, now Bing-ge is regarding his counterpart with a gleam in his eye that Shen Qingqiu isn’t exactly sure he likes. He’s about to open his mouth when Bing-ge says, “This one will do as Shizun commands,” all smiles and fake deference, before walking over to Bing-mei.
Bing-mei watches him approach the same way he might watch a wolf sneaking up on him. Bing-ge says something, his voice too low for Shen Qingqiu to hear, and Bing-mei responds warily, also too quietly to be made out this far away. Still trapped on the bed, Shen Qingqiu has to settle for trying to read their lips and, failing that, watching the emotions that play out across their faces.
At first Bing-mei looks disgusted, then angry. When he glances over to Shen Qingqiu for guidance, he isn’t sure what face to make, so he just sticks to looking impassive, shrugging one shoulder. With a confused frown on his face, Bing-mei turns back to Bing-ge. The two of them stay there for a long time, with Bing-ge doing most of the talking, while Bing-mei’s eyes flick between him and Shen Qingqiu. Partway through, Shen Qingqiu remembers with a sick lurch in his stomach just how deceptive and persuasive the original version of Luo Binghe learned to be; just what is he saying to Bing-mei to make his expression turn from disgusted to thoughtful?
Shen Qingqiu hesitates, but then he calls, “Binghe…”
Both of them turn to look at him, identical dark eyes flashing. Bing-ge smiles, and says quietly, “Don’t you think I’m right?”
Bing-mei doesn’t answer; he comes over and goes to one knee beside the bed, reaching up to rest one hand against the side of Shen Qingqiu’s face. He strokes his thumb gently across Shen Qingqiu’s cheekbone, his expression hard to read.
“Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu tries again, nerves squirming in his gut.
Bing-mei sighs, and says with a great air of reluctance, “You are right.”
Shen Qingqiu’s eyes flick between both Binghe’s, narrowing with suspicion. “What’s he right about?” he demands, nerves making his voice come out sharp and irritated.
“You know, Shizun, if no one else ever saw you, that would make me very happy,” Bing-mei says, still rubbing the pad of his thumb over Shen Qingqiu’s cheek.
“What?” Shen Qingqiu frowns at him, confused.
“They all look at you and want to take you from me,” Bing-mei says, his expression becoming distressed. “And sometimes I think Shizun wants to go away with them, too.”
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Did this Master not tell you he would follow wherever you lead? You are the man I chose to marry,” he says, poking Bing-mei’s chest for emphasis.
Bing-ge, who’s been lurking like an evil shadow behind Bing-mei’s shoulder, pipes up with, “Should a good husband allow others to look on him with lust?”
“You are not my husband,” Shen Qingqiu almost snarls at him.
“No, but I am,” Bing-mei says, and now his hand is resting on Shen Qingqiu’s throat.
Something is going very wrong here, Shen Qingqiu knows it - can see it in the self-satisfied gleam in Bing-ge’s eyes, in the slightly manic expression on Bing-mei’s face. He wants desperately to pull away from Bing-mei’s hand, but he doesn’t want to worsen whatever strange insecurity is plaguing his husband’s mind. “Binghe-”
“I think it would be better if you were somewhere away from everyone else, Shizun,” Bing-mei says, “Somewhere no one else could see you. Somewhere only I could see you. Where I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
“Somewhere like this room,” Bing-ge says, and Shen Qingqiu jumps, realising he’s come to sit beside him on the bed in complete silence. “I don’t even allow servants to come here.”
Bing-mei nods thoughtfully, and Shen Qingqiu feels a little bit ill. His mind is racing feverishly. Apparently getting these two to talk was a gross miscalculation - Bing-ge has worked some kind of unhealthy influence on Bing-mei, fuelling his insecurities and distracting him from the objective of primary importance - that is, getting back to their own world. Hiding his nerves behind irritation, Shen Qingqiu snaps, “I am not going to remain in one room for the rest of my life. Now, stop-”
He’s cut off by Bing-ge’s voice against his ear. “Shizun, what makes you think you have a choice?”
Before he can react to that terrifying statement, Bing-mei pulls his face around with a sharp grip on his chin and presses their mouths together, kissing him deeply. Caught off guard, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t pull his wits together fast enough to try pushing Bing-mei away. He climbs up onto the bed, tongue sliding into Shen Qingqiu’s mouth, and he feels Bing-ge’s hands come to rest on his shoulders.
This is all going in an unexpected and frankly terrifying direction; twisting his head away, Shen Qingqiu manages to push Bing-mei back a little bit. “Binghe, what are you doing?” he half-yells, anger mixing with sharp fear in his voice.
Undeterred, Bing-mei leans back in, pressing a kiss to the skin under Shen Qingqiu’s ear before whispering, “It’ll be easier like this, Shizun. No more arguments, no more worrying. I’ll keep you safe, and no one will ever be able to steal you again.”
Mind whirling, Shen Qingqiu still spots the flaw in Bing-mei’s logic. “Except him?” he says, nodding back over his shoulder toward Bing-ge.
Bing-ge laughs and runs his hands down Shen Qingqiu’s bare arms, saying into his other ear, “Of course, Shizun can choose which Binghe he’d like to stay with. That’s the only way to settle this, isn’t it?” He starts kissing Shen Qingqiu’s throat, saying against his skin, “After all, I’m confident Shizun will choose me.”
“He married me,” Bing-mei says sharply.
“Mmn, but now he can have me instead.”
A spike of real panic cuts through Shen Qingqiu’s gut. He doesn’t want to fuck both Binghe’s at the same time - for the sake of his asshole, if nothing else - but Bing-mei seems just as set on this as Bing-ge. “Binghe, stop messing around,” he says, hating the way his voice wobbles slightly.
Bing-mei pulls back and cocks his head. “Who’s playing, Shizun?”
“You!” Shen Qingqiu spits, annoyed. “You came here to rescue me! What are you doing, now?”
“Rescuing you, Shizun,” Bing-mei says, making Shen Qingqiu want to strangle him.
“Shizun told us to get along, after all,” Bing-ge says, “We’ve come to a harmonious agreement. Aren’t you proud of us?”
“What about how I feel?” Shen Qingqiu demands, an edge of mild hysteria in his voice.
“Shizun will feel good,” Bing-mei says, pressing their foreheads together, “Isn’t that all that matters?”
Before Shen Qingqiu can protest, Bing-mei kisses him again, claiming his lips so thoroughly that Shen Qingqiu has no hope of pulling away. Bing-ge has both his wrists in an iron grip, and trapped between them, Shen Qingqiu can’t escape. With a click of Bing-ge’s fingers the silk bonds around him shift, wrapping all around his arms before pulling them up above his head, securing themselves to something above the bed.
Bing-ge’s hands are all over his chest, running up his sides, while Bing-mei caresses his thighs, pushing them apart so he can squeeze into the gap. When Bing-mei releases his mouth Bing-ge is right there, kissing him wet and slow and deep.
Shen Qingqiu’s head is spinning again, anger and panic seeming hard to grasp in the face of the hands hot on his skin, the mouth claiming his. Bing-ge stays at his mouth while Bing-mei ducks his head, placing biting, wet kisses up the inside of Shen Qingqiu’s thigh, until he reaches his dick. It doesn’t feel like that long since he woke up with Bing-ge’s cock inside him, but his dick is already responding, swelling rapidly as Bing-mei laves his tongue over the half-hard head. Bing-ge releases his lips, allowing Shen Qingqiu to watch as Bing-mei takes him fully into his mouth, and he can’t help but buck his hips up into the hot wet warmth.
He should be resisting, should be at least trying to fight them off. Shen Qingqiu knows neither of them, not even Bing-mei, would stop now if he asked them too; knows that should make him feel something a little more than dull panic. But with Bing-mei’s mouth on his dick, Bing-ge’s hands all over him, it’s hard to remember to be outraged or afraid.
The panic comes back, though, when Bing-ge starts fingering his hole, and Bing-mei pulls his mouth off his dick to ask suspiciously, “What are you doing?”
“Getting Shizun ready,” Bing-ge says, the picture of innocence.
“We can’t both fit inside him.”
At least someone has retained an iota of sense, Shen Qingqiu thinks - before Bing-ge scoffs, “Obviously, we can both fit.” Then, in Shen Qingqiu’s ear, “You see, Shizun, this is why you should choose me-”
Bing-mei growls, and sits up to shove Bing-ge back a little. “What are you going to do to him?”
Bing-ge gives him a dark look in return, but doesn’t escalate things. Instead, he holds up a small vial of what looks like bright pink oil. “Distilled from the Lustful Pink Dream flower. It’s effects…” Bing-ge grins smugly. “Well, you’ll see for yourselves.” Before Bing-mei can protest any more, he uncorks the vial and slathers his fingers with the oil, letting both of them see the whole show, before his hand moves out of sight around Shen Qingqiu’s back. A second later, his fingers slip easily into Shen Qingqiu’s hole.
He shouldn’t want this. Shen Qingqiu keeps telling himself this, even as Bing-mei kisses him again, even as Bing-ge’s fingers work him open and his hips jerk uncontrollably, moans spilling from his throat into Bing-mei’s mouth.
But he doesn’t breathe another word of protest.
He seems to get unnaturally open and loose around Bing-ge’s fingers in a matter of minutes, enough that Bing-ge easily has four fingers fucking into him by the time he says to Bing-mei, “I’ll give you the honour of going first. Lie down.”
Bing-mei glares at him suspiciously for a moment before slowly following his instruction. Bing-ge lifts Shen Qingqiu’s leg so he’s straddling Bing-mei’s thighs, then grasps his hips in strong hands, raising him to his knees. Bing-mei hisses as Bing-ge takes his cock in hand - and then he’s guiding Shen Qingqiu down onto it, the thick, hot length of Bing-mei’s cock sliding into him with a smooth ease it’s never had before. A moan punches out of Shen Qingqiu’s chest when he’s finally fully inside. It feels so good, like his huge cock isn’t half as big as usual; he moans again and pushes back when Bing-mei snaps his hips upward, fucking up into him. His eyes are fixed on Shen Qingqiu’s face, hot desire and possessive need mixed up into a dark cocktail in that burning gaze.
Then Bing-ge starts fingering the rim of his hole, and a little spike of fear runs through the haze of Shen Qingqiu’s pleasure. Obviously, we can both fit, Bing-ge’s voice says in his mind. I’ll give you the honour of going first.
But if someone goes first, then doesn’t someone else have to go second?
Shen Qingqiu tenses up, which just makes Bing-mei moan below him. Bing-ge laughs into his ear. “Don’t be nervous, Shizun. It won’t hurt,” he says, one of his fingers slipping up into Shen Qingqiu’s hole. “Didn’t I promise to make Shizun feel good?”
Shen Qingqiu wants to protest, but then Bing-ge’s questing finger finds that sensitive spot inside him, pressing in sharply. Shen Qingqiu moans, his head falling backward. Bing-mei’s cock fucks up into him again, and for a minute Shen Qingqiu forgets what he was worrying about.
Then he feels the blunt, thick head of another cock pressing at his entrance, and he tenses like a rabbit caught in a trap.
“Shizun has nothing to fear,” Bing-ge whispers. His fingers dig into Shen Qingqiu’s hips, and then his cock is sliding into his hole. Just the tip nudges in first, but even that makes Shen Qingqiu feel like his hole is going to be stretched beyond repair. It doesn’t hurt so much as it makes Shen Qingqiu feel open, uncomfortably aware of just how far he’s being stretched, just how much cock he’s taking. His breath is coming in quick, sharp gasps as Bing-ge slides in slowly, his head spinning. There’s no way both of them should be able to fit at all, let alone without any pain. What the hell was in that vial?
He presses his eyes closed and moans as Bing-ge finally slips all the way inside him. All three of them are panting like there’s not enough oxygen in the room; Shen Qingqiu is only still upright because he’s leaning on Bing-ge, his hands suspended above his head. He’s never felt anything like this - never felt so full. He can’t move, completely at their mercy, feeling so open and vulnerable that he wishes desperately that he could hide his face.
Bing-mei’s fingers brush his stomach, an awed noise coming from his throat. When Shen Qingqiu looks down, he can see his stomach is ever so slightly distended, a long, thick bump visible under the skin. He stares at it in confusion for a second, before the pieces click into place. His - their - cocks-
Then Bing-ge pulls out slowly and thrusts back in again, dragging simultaneous moans from both Bing-mei and Shen Qingqiu’s throats.
Not one to be outdone, when Bing-ge withdraws again Bing-mei moves with him, both of them thrusting back inside in near-perfect tandem. Shen Qingqiu can feel his mouth hanging open, a helpless, desperate expression on his face, but he’s too far gone to be able to control it. Each double thrust back in feels like it’s opening him up all over again, reaching in and touching the deepest parts inside of him. Bing-ge reaches around and presses his hand against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach, feeling the way their cocks make his skin bulge out with each push back in, and Shen Qingqiu lets his head fall back onto Bing-ge’s shoulder. Moans and gasps spill out of his mouth without his conscious control; he’s given up on trying to stop them. The hot, thick slide of two cocks inside him is all he can focus on. He desperately wants to be released; at the same time, he never wants to leave this moment.
How does something he doesn’t want feel so good?
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t know how long it lasts, his mind floating in a half-conscious haze of pleasure. If both Luo Binghe’s are competing for his affections, they’re probably competing to see who can last the longest, and Shen Qingqiu isn’t sure any more whether he’d prefer them to let him go or keep fucking him like this forever. Either way, at last a hand - he has no idea whose - takes his dick in a firm, hot grasp. It only takes a few strokes before Shen Qingqiu is coming harder than he ever has before, sinking blissfully into the white light of unconsciousness.
*
When he comes to, it seems that maybe only a minute has passed. His arms have been released from their position above his head, and he’s leaning forward, pulled by warm, strong arms against a familiar chest. The skin and flesh under his ear reverberates as Bing-mei’s voice says, “He can decide that later. We should take him to the baths and get him cleaned up.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, a chance to steal him,” Bing-ge hisses, now sounding a lot more hostile.
Bing-mei’s arms tighten around him. “He’s mine,” he growls.
Shen Qingqiu almost rolls his eyes. Their inability to go more than ten minutes without getting into a fight might be amusing, if it didn’t have the potential to lead to both of them literally breaking each other - and if Bing-mei’s earlier strange words hadn’t chosen that moment to pop up again in Shen Qingqiu’s brain. He tries to gather his muddy, scattered thoughts together, fighting off the haze that’s come down over his brain. When he shifts, Bing-mei says, “Shizun?”
Distract them, he thinks. Pushing down the nerves and low, thrumming fear that’s eating into the pit of his stomach, Shen Qingqiu affects an exasperated tone as he says, “If you don’t stop fighting and take me to a bath immediately, this master will leave both of you and marry Liu Qingge.”
The twin exclamations of outraged disgust are almost enough to bring a smile to Shen Qingqiu’s face.
After a small hissed argument over who will get to carry him, Shen Qingqiu stays in Bing-mei’s arms as they make their way to Huan Hua Palace’s extensive bathhouse. Shen Qingqiu lays his head against Bing-mei’s shoulder and pretends to drift off, but inside his mind is racing.
If there’s little hope of Bing-mei gaining the upper hand over his counterpart, the idea of Shen Qingqiu being able to escape both of them is laughable. Maybe if he and Bing-mei work together, like last time - but Shen Qingqiu has a horrible suspicion that some evil idea of Bing-ge’s has taken root in Bing-mei’s mind, something that might make returning with him to their world not the best idea either.
But despite that, overall, isn’t Bing-mei better?
Shen Qingqiu realises with a sick lurch that he’s not sure anymore.
Apparently both Binghe’s lose their patience with pretence at the same moment. Even Shen Qingqiu had been able to tell neither of them really had any intention of generously letting the other walk away with him; it’s not until Bing-mei strikes that Shen Qingqiu realises why he waited.
Away from the bed, no longer restrained by the lengths of red silk woven with Immortal Binding Cable, Shen Qingqiu finally feels his spiritual power answer his call when he raises his arm.
Bing-ge meets Bing-mei’s strike, blocking his arm, but Shen Qingqiu’s burst of power sends him flying down the corridor in a way that would honestly be hilarious if the situation weren’t so tense. Not waiting for him to retaliate, Bing-mei sprints back down the corridor and barrels through the hole he made earlier. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have time to advise that Bing-mei might want to grab Bing-ge’s own Xin Mo before Bing-mei’s using his version to make one of the strange inter-dimensional portals. The sound of Bing-ge yelling in the distance is audible for a second before they leap through the portal and land back in their own world.
Looking around the calm, familiar interior of the replica Bamboo House, Shen Qingqiu decides fending off Bing-ge can be tomorrow’s problem. Instead, overcome with emotion, he turns and pulls Bing-mei into a long kiss.
Bing-mei is smiling when they finally break apart. “Shizun?” he questions, sounding a little bemused. “What…?”
“You rescued me,” Shen Qingqiu says, pressing their foreheads together. “For a moment I worried… I thought you were listening to all those things Bing-ge said. But I understand now, why you had to go along with him. Waiting until there was an excuse to release me from the Binding Cable - that was smart, Binghe.”
For a moment a strange expression flits over Bing-mei’s face; then it morphs into a pleasant smile. “Of course Binghe rescued you, Shizun. This one would never let anyone take you away from him.”
The words stir up a little thrill of disquiet in Shen Qingqiu’s heart, but then Bing-mei presses a kiss to his forehead and starts moving toward the back door, towards the hot spring baths, and the promise of hot clean water is enough to distract him completely.
After all, his Luo Binghe would never be anything like the original. He knows that.