Chapter Text
[Scenario push available. Would the Host like to proceed?]
With his back against a wall---literally and metaphorically---Shen Qingqiu doesn’t think twice before accepting. Despite the numerous times this damn system has pitted him, anything would be better than dying or Luo Binghe kidnapping him and turning him into a toothpick.
“Is now really the time for Shizun to be distracted?” Luo Binghe asks, his voice huskier than normal. He leans closer, a faint scent growing stronger. His mind helpfully supplies the exact sentence from the novel in which Luo Binghe’s complete pheromones are described: “After unlocking his demon heritage in the Abyss, Luo Binghe’s pheromones had fully developed; his once subtle, slightly floral scent had become an all-encompassing wood smoke with only a hint of jasmine.”
Unsurprisingly, people in his old world never needed to identify what exactly pheromones smell like. That’s only a setting you’d find in worlds with secondary genders, which Shen Qingqiu has unfortunately found himself in. He at least found comfort in his character’s secondary gender being a beta. He’d have probably killed Shang Qinghua himself if he was anything else.
[Scenario push accepted. Host, please take a deep breath and enjoy.]
Shen Qingqiu blinks, taking a deep breath as he finally registers what Luo Binghe said. “I’m not dis…”
His words trail off as that wood smoke-and-jasmine pheromone overpowers him, burrowing into his bones like it belongs there. Something in him suddenly clicks, and a spike of heat shoots up from the base of his spine. Shen Qingqiu’s legs go weak, buckling out from under him. The only thing that keeps him from sliding down the wall is Luo Binghe’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him close.
Luo Binghe’s pheromones get that much stronger, making Shen Qingqiu dizzy as his blood starts to run hot. He feels something brush against his neck, sending a shudder down his spine. “Shizun is…an omega?” Luo Binghe whispers, his breath hot and heavy.
A few seconds pass before Shen Qingqiu can gather his wits long enough to shake his head. “No,” he says, his voice audibly strained. He wishes he could mask it, but no fan can conceal how rough he sounds. His hands squeeze fabric tightly, and he wonders when he grabbed Luo Binghe’s robes. “I’m a beta. A beta.”
Immediately following his words, Luo Binghe laughs and pulls back enough for their eyes to meet. One hand slides down to Shen Qingqiu’s lower back, pulling him closer until they’re pressed chest-to-chest. The other reaches up to brush his fingers against Shen Qingqiu’s cheek, a smile tugging at Luo Binghe’s lips when his shizun subconsciously leans into the touch. “A beta wouldn’t smell the way Shizun does.”
“How…how do I smell?” Shen Qingqiu asks, momentarily forgetting his own character setting. Does he smell as good as Luo Binghe? Is it strong or subtle? Is it overwhelmingly sweet, or is it underwhelming?
“You smell like mine,” Luo Binghe growls, his eyes darkening as his hand moves to Shen Qingqiu’s chin, gripping it between his forefinger and thumb. He forces Shen Qingqiu to tilt his head upwards and leans close once more to breathe in his scent. “Only mine.”
Shen Qingqiu is about to argue---that’s not even an actual description of his scent---but words fail him when he feels something wet and warm brushing across the edge of the gland on the back of his neck. A choked noise sounds, and Shen Qingqiu belatedly realizes it came from himself.
“It seems Shizun is fated to be mine,” Luo Binghe murmurs. He seems to be speaking to himself, but he’s close enough that Shen Qingqiu can hear him loud and clear.
His words make something in Shen Qingqiu’s brain click, and he suddenly remembers another aspect of this omegaverse setting: fated mates. Two people who are literally born to be together, their pheromones making them irresistible to each other. In the original story, Luo Binghe didn’t have a fated mate, but he had omegas, betas, and even two female alphas in his harem, so he didn’t seem to be missing out.
But now…were the original Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu supposed to be fated mates? Is that also part of why the original flavor hated his disciple so much? Is it why Luo Binghe still kept the original flavor alive, too? Did the original Luo Binghe discover their status as fated mates?
[Congratulations to the Host for discovering and filling a plot hole! Please continue working hard!]
Okay, fine, Shen Qingqiu can accept that he isn’t a beta anymore, but he’d like to have a serious conversation with the System. How is this a scenario push? What is this cliched omega-in-hiding shit?! Shen Qingqiu isn’t dumb! He knows where this is going! What kind of rotten plot twist is this?!
He can’t even say it’s an unexpected twist now that it’s happened because several things suddenly make sense! Shen Qingqiu finally understands what that weekly medicine he takes is, why he found odd comfort in Luo Binghe’s old clothes after his disciple fell into the Abyss, and why the original flavor never had any kind of tangible romantic plot.
Suddenly, Shen Qingqiu feels…jealous of the original flavor. He’s also beyond confused. Why would you ignore the protagonist when you’re fated mates?! Did the original flavor not recognize the golden thigh sitting right in front of him!? Was his hate for Luo Binghe’s potential that high??
“Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu blinks, pulled from his thoughts by Luo Binghe’s voice. He looks up to see their faces are barely an inch apart, and he can see his reflection in Luo Binghe’s eyes. His pupils are blown wide and a heavy blush is splashed across his cheeks. It seems his cool and unaffected Shizun setting is ruined.
Luo Binghe smiles slightly, the hint of amusement reminding Shen Qingqiu that he spoke. “What?” he asks.
“Did Shizun know?”
Shen Qingqiu opens his mouth, ready to automatically deny, but nothing comes out. Technically, he didn’t know, but the original flavor definitely did. He wouldn’t have started taking weekly suppressant medicine otherwise, and he probably wouldn’t have been so desperate to keep Luo Binghe near while also pushing him away. He closes his mouth and glances away, nervously licking his lips. He isn’t sure how to answer. Both options are technically a lie and truth simultaneously. Finally, he looks back and settles on a quiet, noncommittal hum.
He can practically see the convoluted dramas Luo Binghe is creating in his mind. He’s undoubtedly envisioning a dog-blooded story of a master realizing the taboo of being with a disciple but being unable to fully push him away. Suddenly, every cruel word before Shen Qingqiu replaced the original flavor is tinged with a touch of pink, becoming an inner battle in which the master does his best to maintain a distance but simply can’t cut off contact completely.
Shen Qingqiu can’t let it continue. It would weigh too heavily on his conscience if he didn’t at least try to correct Luo Binghe’s overthinking. He grits his teeth, doing his best to compose himself before saying, “Don’t overthink. I simply didn’t want to endure heats any longer.”
His voice still sounds a bit strained, and he’s filled with unparalleled frustration. Shen Qingqiu takes a deep breath to calm himself down, but all it does is make the heat in his blood surge as the wood smoke-and-jasmine pheromone rushes through him. His heart starts beating faster, his cheeks and the tips of his ears burning.
“Didn’t Shizun only start taking suppressants after meeting this disciple?” Luo Binghe asks, oozing confidence and self-assuredness that makes Shen Qingqiu’s mouth go dry.
Shen Qingqiu frowns, licking his lips once more as he tries to think of some answer. There’s no getting around that conclusion, really. Even if there was, Shen Qingqiu is in no state to actually think of it. That would require more clear-headedness than he can spare at the moment.
Since he can’t answer, he chooses to stay silent. Maybe he’s better off letting Luo Binghe come to conclusions that let him get away with not explaining anything. He gives another noncommittal hum and watches as Luo Binghe’s smile grows in size, relief, and sincerity. Shen Qingqiu feels even more flustered in the face of his genuine smile, and he looks away again.
“Let,” Shen Qingqiu starts, grimacing at how raw his voice sounds. He clears his throat, suddenly remembers he can hide behind his fan, and pulls it out. After snapping the fan open, he covers his face up to his eyes, focusing on Luo Binghe’s shoulder. “Let this master go,” he says, leaning back just slightly so their faces aren’t quite so close.
He just… needs to breathe air that isn’t tainted by Luo Binghe’s pheromones. The longer he has to bask in wood smoke-and-jasmine, the less rationality he’s able to retain. Instead of the arm around his waist loosening, it tightens and pulls him impossibly closer. “Is that really what Shizun wants?”
No. Of course not. But Shen Qingqiu can’t say that. He clenches his jaw, stubbornly refusing to meet Luo Binghe’s gaze as he grits out, “Yes.”
Nearly a minute passes without Luo Binghe moving or speaking. Just as Shen Qingqiu is about to repeat himself, he feels a hand cup his jaw before sliding to the back of his head. Fingers tangle in his hair, and Shen Qingqiu is suddenly pulled forward, his head forced into Luo Binghe’s chest. Nothing could block Luo Binghe’s pheromones now.
Shen Qingqiu’s shocked gasp only makes him inhale the pheromones deeper. His chest feels tight, his entire body burning, and he suddenly feels…empty and…wet. If he were at all rational, he’d feel mortified. Luckily, he isn’t, so he doesn’t.
“Does Shizun really want me to let go?” Luo Binghe asks again, his lips brushing against Shen Qingqiu’s earlobe. Warm breath puffs against the edge of Shen Qingqiu’s gland, sending intense shivers down his spine as his legs completely lose strength.
He can barely process the question, and the tiny part of his consciousness in the back of his mind is screaming at him to run away as fast as he can. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t pay attention to it; he’s more preoccupied with getting closer, burying himself in a nest of wood smoke-and-jasmine-scented robes. “Binghe,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, but he feels the chest and arms surrounding him stiffen.
Shen Qingqiu is suddenly filled with the overwhelming sense that he’s done something wrong, meaning he’ll be pushed away. Even worse, nothing will help him relieve that empty feeling. He swallows around a lump in his throat, reaching up to grip Luo Binghe’s upper arm to stay close. The arm under his hand twitches, the only warning Shen Qingqiu gets before he’s pushed against the wall behind him.
Before he can say anything---not that he’d even know what to say---his lips are covered and occupied. Luo Binghe’s kiss is as desperate as Shen Qingqiu feels. His teeth are sharp and unruly, demanding every inch of Shen Qingqiu’s lips and tongue as they scrape and draw a tiny drop of blood. The blood is licked away, and Shen Qingqiu feels the shudder that goes through Luo Binghe before a low growl follows.
Shen Qingqiu’s breath stutters, and if he weren’t being held in place, he’d be tilting his head back to give Luo Binghe free access to his neck. Instead, he lets go of the fan he forgot he was holding, grabs the front of Luo BInghe’s robes, and tries to pull him closer. He pushes his tongue into Luo Binghe’s mouth, wanting more as he licks and caresses his fangs.
This brings Luo Binghe’s attention back, and he pushes his knee between Shen Qingqiu’s legs. His thigh presses against Shen Qingqiu’s groin. Shen Qingqiu didn’t even realize he was hard until this moment, and he groans softly as his hips grind down. He can even feel Luo Binghe’s hard cock against his hip, and the realization of its size washes over Shen Qingqiu like frozen water.
A shred of rationality makes its way back into his mind. Shen Qingqiu tries to pull away and protest, but his words come out as a muffled noise that somehow spurs Luo Binghe on. He can hardly breathe, overwhelmed by pheromones and the wet slide of their tongues. Shen Qingqiu flounders for a moment before pushing his hand into Luo Binghe’s hair and yanking as harshly as he can.
His relief at the kiss ending is drowned by intense arousal when Luo Binghe growls again. The noise is both encouragement and a warning to behave as Luo Binghe buries his face in Shen Qingqiu’s neck. He kisses, licks, and bites every inch of skin he can reach, occasionally letting his teeth and tongue graze past Shen Qingqiu’s glands and sending another wave of heat through him.
“Wait,” he pants, wincing when Luo Binghe bites down harder on his neck. Shen Qingqiu whines at the pain, relieved when the pressure is instantly lessened. He tries to gather his thoughts and remember why he told Luo Binghe to wait. When he finally does, he takes a deep breath and manages to say, “Not…not here.”
Luo Binghe finally pauses and pulls away enough to meet Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. His face is also flushed, his ears a bright red as he looks down at Shen Qingqiu with a feral gleam in his eyes. “Then, Shizun would be fine elsewhere?” he asks.
For a brief moment, Shen Qingqiu feels annoyed that Luo Binghe doesn’t seem as affected. He glances away, takes another deep breath of the wood smoke-and-jasmine surrounding him, and nods before he can really think his answer through. The smile that follows makes him breathless, though, and he can’t conjure a thought beyond wanting to see that smile more often.
“This disciple will happily do as Shizun asks,” Luo Binghe says. When he finishes speaking, the space around them warps. The buildings and roads twist until Shen Qingqiu feels disoriented. He closes his eyes, but it only makes him realize the world is spinning. He focuses on Luo Binghe’s scent, feeling himself calm down as he buries his nose in Luo Binghe’s robes.
When the space around him is no longer moving, Shen Qingqiu opens his eyes to see where they’ve gone. His gaze lands on the bed that takes up an entire wall, the mattress and blankets looking soft even from this distance. A translucent, pale green curtain hangs around the bed, creating a flimsy barrier that essentially does nothing.
The bed forces another wave of ice-cold rationality to wash through Shen Qingqiu. His eyes widen slightly, and he swallows down the curse that wants to escape him. Is it too late to wake up from this fucked up dream he’s in?