Work Text:
It’s a hot day.
Painfully so as the sun seems vindictive as it cuts through even the physical barricades of Shang Qinghua’s home, leaving the interior rooms of his humble abode uncomfortably warm. Especially for his current house guest who watches the An Ding lord strip yet another layer from himself. Falling back on an elbow while wiping his brow with the back of a hand, ink staining cutely above his brow.
“I miss ac.” He whines and Mobei Jun pretends not to hear the strange word, filing it away for further research along with the many bizarre terms his husband uses. “It’s too damn hot!”
“We do not have to be here.” Mobei Jun reminds, his own clothes in a similar state. Fur cloak long abandoned, his robes loosened until the pale skin of his hardened stomach was exposed. Lounging on Shang Qinghua’s bed as the human toiled over paperwork and misery.
“You don’t.” Shang Qinghua pouted. “But I’m being hassled by my disciples for being away too much! Why did I agree to this?” It was true, the An Ding head disciple had begged their master to remain for a week and oversee recently implemented changes to the budget plans and expansions throughout the mountain. Which Shang Qinghua had accepted only because his weakness was being needed - and his entire peak had bowed and begged him to not run off to the North as was typical.
Mobei Jun personally hated this.
While there was no reason he should not be where his husband was, the mortal mountain beneath the height of summer was surely testing his resolve.
Truly it took a great deal more heat to hurt or destabilize Mobei Jun’s body. Even fire had to come from spirit-woven magics to really hurt…
But it was fucking hot and the king was most displeased with having to stay just because Shang Qinghua got distracted by being needed! Didn’t he need him enough?
There seemed to be some reminding of his place.
“Stop complaining.” He orders, voice tense and pushing the long braid off his shoulder to fall behind. Wanting nothing to block the view of him from the man. The hand not holding up his jaw pats the sliver of bed unoccupied by his body.“If you are hot, come here.”
“My King,” A growl cuts him off. “ Husband, I have to get these reports signed off before the morning or else the allocated funds will be delayed and I’ll have to answer for-”
Mobei Jun stares, uninterested in matters not pertaining to himself or his kingdom.
“Then suffer silently.” He responds, closing his eyes and plucking the collar of his robe, inviting air against his bare chest.
He hears the whine deep within his husband’s throat - feels heavy eyes upon him. Mobei Jun really could almost count down to the shattering of Shang Qinghua’s will, having personally woven deep fractures himself. Some ways more fun than others.
Shang Qinghua’s knee hits the bed with a quiet sink of weight, Mobei Jun only lifting one lid to observe him, feigning calm. Above him approached his husband, heat flushed skin and hair in a matted tangled bun high on his skull. Hair clinging to his neck and brow like serpents through sand, his lips dry and parted where he gathers his limbs and tries to sneak closer.
The temperature difference from the rest of the home and Mobei Jun is noticeable, he knows. He’s been expanding the field since watching the first drop of sweat roll down the man’s throat and disappear into the part of his clothes. Making the space as inviting for his suffering lover as any trap. It takes a great deal of control not to smirk as his prey is caught of course, delighting in the nervous way Shang Qinghua still approaches after all these years. Not timid, merely still learning how to take advantage of Mobei Jun’s offers.
His husband is a wicked pervert, often ogling him with lecher eyes and gladly expending his energy and imagination in their marital bed. But it was something cute when he grew awkward when being made to take what he wanted. Mobei Jun enjoyed it very much.
“Husband, may I?”
“This husband is yours to do with as you see fit.” He answers, watching him with one eye and tracking the tension of calves where Shang Qinghua has rolled up his pants against the heat. The pale bundle tangling around his knees while the shirt beneath is sweat soaked and thin, already his body is shivering against the cool air Mobei Jun emits.
“I would like to do many things.” Shang Qinghua speaks, careless and most likely not realizing he’s saying these words. The weight of his eyes tracking the show of Mobei Jun’s chest as he draws closer. Swinging one leg carefully over Mobei Jun’s lap and his hips are greeted by cool hands, guiding him to settle low. Let it be easy for Mobei Jun to sit up enough that his lips could trace the heat damp brow.
“You are very warm, Qinghua.” He purrs, nuzzling the warm cheek and feeling the shudder of the other's body. Both in lust and relief as Shang Qinghua’s hands found their way against his chest. Fingers twitching against the fabric before turning bold and shucking the clothing back and off Mobei Jun’s shoulders. Freeing his upper half of covering and permitting Shang Qinghua a plentiful space to lean. Their chests resting together, the rabbit heartbeat of Shang Qinghua rattling around his body which let out such a delectable noise of joy as Mobei Jun’s skin seeped away the heat and chuckled at the exhilaration of his husband’s relief.
“I love you.” Shang Qinghua moans, hands ever playful as he takes palmfulls of Mobei Jun’s pecs, finding comfort in holding the soft muscle and humming while rubbing his face against the cold sternum. Not too far from a favored bedroom activity of his that Mobei Jun wouldn’t deny him now.
He combs through Shang Qinguha’s hair, loosening the ribbon that keeps the weight up. Wanting it to fall heavy and free down the man’s shoulders. Ignoring the small noise of protest as he will not let such a thing disturb his means of cooling down his husband. Thumb stroking the flustered cheek and turning Shang Qinghua’s gaze upwards with a demanding tug on his jaw.
“Come here.” He orders again, grinning when Shang Qinghua rises immediately on his knees for their mouths to reach. Dark tongue pressing through the quickly parted seal of lips and sinking against Shang Qinghua’s needy tongue. Working gentle and wet as the kiss eased his husband’s head back, tilted beneath the force of Mobei Jun’s demand. Slick and loud, kissing him obscenely so the sound echoes through the empty house, Shang Qinghua gives small panting breaths as his palms sweep Mobei Jun’s torso. Gently clawing at the muscular shoulders and falling down to his chest. Sucking on the dark tongue like a cold treat while massaging the meat of his chest, short nails dragging against sensitive flesh until Mobei Jun hisses into his throat. Taking hold of Shang Qinghua’s hips with a rougher touch and rolling their hips together in a slow, easy pattern matching the slide of their mouths.
He kisses Shang Qinghua’s lower lip and nips his chin, exhaling cold against the wet mouth. Hands needing to find the smallest point of his husband’s waist and give a terrible squeeze where fingers almost touch on either side. Holding him steady as they tilt back into the bed with a short laugh. Shang Qinghua’s eyes glistening with his perverse delight that Mobei Jun loves dragging out into the open.
A stroke to his ego to have this man desire him so openly.
“That is good.” He purrs, thumbs leaving deep circles into the tightness of Shang Qinghua’s belly as his husband bends. Peppering his throat and collar with bright kisses. Lashes shielding that look of lust and awe as he makes his way down the cool flesh while trying to keep weight across Mobei Jun’s lap. The squirm of their hips awkward and off center, but eliciting soft breaths and teasing groans from either of their bodies.
Mobei Jun’s mouth finds a pleased smile when human blunt teeth scrape over the chest of his chest. A pink tongue drinking the chill as it lavishes attention to dark skin. Lips forming a seal and sucking below the peak while Mobei Jun shivers, forcing the cold of his body to greet Shang Qinghua’s thighs. His belly taunt and torso reeling under the affection, the teasing lap of a playful tongue across his chest. The deft hands against his flesh, palm warm and meeting with the cold in grasping handfuls as Shang Qinghua bites and kisses and tongues now flushed skin. The sight of dark hair spilling down sharp shoulders and across Mobei Jun’s belly sparking want for more-
His hand finally leaves the small waist to push on Shang Qinghua’s shoulder. Urging him lower like a promise.
“Husband?” Shang Qinghua speaks against his chest, lips now red with the effort of his attention. “Shall I --” Coy and sweet, somehow he can be both and oh how Mobei Jun hopes this man does not realize the power he has over him.
Or maybe he wishes he would figure it out faster.
“This husband would be-”
The door is kicked open, a maelstrom of energy pouring in and Mobei Jun grasps Shang Qinghua’s shoulder from instinct. Pulling him up the bed and against his chest, shielding him first and foremost from the intruding danger without ever needing to think.
A biting wheel of black ice daggers begin to form overhead and Mobei Jun turns over and bares teeth when--
“Oh good, you are here.”
Luo Binghe doesn’t so much as grin as stare in amusement, taking in the state of the two before allowing the man beside him to make an entrance.
The hot air of the world does not affect Shen Qingqiu outworldly. Ethereal and refined in his many pale layers as he enters the room. The expensive fan like an extension of his gaze as he looks over the two in the bed. Mouth set in a thin line - but eyes changed ever so slightly.
“What are you doing here?” Shang Qinghua jumps up from the other side of Mobei Jun, arm swinging around the demon’s chest in a strange show of modesty on his husband’s behalf. Puffing up like a rodent caught, but making sure not to be too disruptive when Luo Binghe’s eyes settled on him.
“Shizun was complaining of the heat.” Luo Binghe answers, turning to look proudly at his own husband, a dog waiting for praise at retrieving a bone. “Aren’t we lucky the great Mobei Jun is visiting our mountain.”
Mobei Jun turns his gaze across the visitors, one hand moving to grasp Shang Qinghua’s wrist in a comforting hold. Petting a thumb across the mortal pulse and easing him down from the scare.
“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu speaks, clear and sharp behind his face. The only show of his embarrassment being the smallest hint of coloring at his ears. “Be polite, our friends could have been busy.”
“Quite busy.” Mobei Jun huffs, pressing the flat of Shang Qinghua’s hand across his heart.
“Too busy for company?” Luo binghe asks, head tilted. “Shang-shishu usually enjoys it when we visit.”
Mobei Jun and he stare one another down, their emitted presence catching in the air and twisting the space for brief seconds. Leaving their husbands to converse in glances while the demons did whatever demons needed to do to share air. Shen Qingqiu’s features turned unexpectedly miserable as he fanned quicker and Shang Qinghua looked quite smug at this. Burying his nose against Mobei Jun’s neck and holding a mischievous glimmer in his eye.
Shen Qingqiu for his part, looks mortified for a second, glaring down the weasel grin and just as quickly collecting himself when Luo Binghe looks his way.
“My King,” Shang Qinghua’s energy shifted enough for Mobei Jun to already know the answer. “If you are amicable to having company, I don’t see why not?”
“If my husband wishes.” Mobei Jun says, never once taking eyes off Luo Binghe who radiates pleasure at the acceptance. The man urged his Shizun forward until he was almost bossy. Whining about the heat not being good for him while Mobei Jun sat up completely, letting Shang Qinghua cling to his arm and chest, leaving small kisses against the curve of a shoulder while their guests approached.
Shen Qingqiu and Mobei Jun finally greet one another, the latter taking in the overly dressed peak lord and seems unimpressed. Yet legs spread just the same as Luo Binghe bullies his husband with gentle words until the slender man is straddling Mobei Jun’s thigh. A flush contained to the high arches of his cheeks while Mobei Jun let Luo Binghe’s hand comb through his hair, settle on the curve of his skull and guide his second in.
Cold lips reached a tense mouth, and unlike Shang Qinghua who was always ready for the sweep of a dark tongue and sharp teeth, Shen Qingqiu always needed coaxing. Mobei Jun exhales soft and cool against the overheated mortal. Gentle beneath the watchful eyes of Luo Binghe as he licked the seam of different lips and caught Shen Qingqiu’s breath on his teeth. Slipping against the hesitant lord’s mouth and with Shen Qingqiu he is gentle. Not wanting to bruise a precious lips as he dipped his cold tongue against the other’s jaw and felt Shang Qighua’s hands beginning to undo the ostentatious robes beneath.
“Luo Binghe,” Mobei Jun says, eyes snatching up to the other still waiting. Those pretty eyes took in the sights as Shang Qinghua leaned over Mobei Jun’s shoulder. Finding Shen Qingqiu’s mouth in a crooked kiss, his grin was far too smug when he put his fellow peak lord’s hands on Mobei Jun’s shoulders.
“Yes Mobei?”
Mobei Jun reached up, taking a fistful of Luo Binghe’s belt and tugging him forward until the other’s knee had to catch on the bedside to keep standing. The cool of Mobei Jun’s presence is interrupted by the other’s natural warmth.
“You will not steal the covers from Qinghua this time.”