Shen Qingqiu wakes up and immediately regrets it. He tries to force himself back to sleep, but it's no good -- Luo Binghe is still pressed up against his back, fever hot and slowly fucking his cock in the still-slick space betweeen Shen Qingqiu's thighs.
Shen Qingqiu can't decide what's worse: the way Luo Bingo is mumbling, "Shizun, shizun, ah, shizun --" or the way that Luo Binghe immediately realizes that he's awake and takes the chance to suck a mark on the sensitive part of Shen Qingqiu's neck, where not even his heavy Peak Lord robes will hide it entirely.
(The creepy feeling that Luo Binghe is reenacting some sort of adolescent fantasy rises up and is immediately, violently shoved down again.)
"Binghe," he says. It's supposed to be a warning, but his voice comes out much too breathy to sound like anything but the encouragement Luo Binghe takes it for. He slides his hands up Shen Qingqiu's chest to pinch and play with his nipples, turning his face against Shen Qingqiu's ear to let out a long, soft moan of pleasure.
This is Shen Qingqiu's fault! His own damn fault! He's going to write 20000 characters of self reflection on the dangers of doting on the protagonist too much and accidentally bending him! Sow the wind, reap the hurricane, that's him!
Luo Binghe scrapes the very tip of his fangs coquettishly against the soft skin behind Shen Qingqiu's ear. Shen Qingqiu wants to curse, but his body betrays him in a full body shudder as he arches into Luo Binghe's mouth. "Shizun," croons Luo Binghe. "Shizun, you make your disciple feel so good."
"Shameless," hisses Shen Qingqiu, going red from his scalp to his chest. "What - what did I tell you --"
"I like to call you Shizun,"says Luo Binghe, so close to his ear that the sound is more of a vibration against his skin sinking into Shen Qingqiu's body. Damn him, he knows exactly what that low rumble does to his old teacher! "My shizun's always so good to his disciple."
Shen Qingqiu somehow drags back enough higher brain function to think about something else beside the way Luo Binghe is still sliding back and forth between his thighs like he's trying to drag out his own pleasure. When he drags against Shen Qingqiu's hole and thrrough the hot space between his legs before sliding against Shen Qingqiu's cock and balls, Shen Qingqiu has to clench his teeth against the noise he wants to make, shameless as a cat in heat. He slaps at Luo Binghe's hand reaching toward his cock, even though he knows it's futile. "Shameless boy!"he says.
Luo Binghe pants against his ear, like being scolded is turning him on even more. How the hell did Shen Qingqiu manage to raise such an incurable masochist?
"You know better," says Shen Qingqiu, trying to sound like he means it. He has to bite back another sound when Luo Binghe moans thickly into his ear.
"Shizun, Shizun," pleads Luo Binghe, speeding up. His fingernails are going sharper, scraping against Shen Qingqiu's tender skin. Shen Qingqiu can't stand it, the prick of danger and the way that Luo Binghe envelopes him so completely, big hands, broad shoulder, the sound of his voice, the scent of his body --
"Call me husband!" he snaps.
Luo Binghe makes a noise not even Shen Qingqiu has heard him make before and comes thickly all over Shen Qingqiu's thighs, come dripping over his legs and on to the bed.
The small part of his mind that always is watching says that he's glad Luo Binghe is going to be the one to clean that up.. The rest of him is extremely occupied with Luo Binghe's big paw on his cock, the way he's pressed against the mess Luo Binghe's made, and Luo Binghe's shaky, overwhelmed exhale of "Husband ... husband --"
Shen Qingqiu comes so hard he whites out a little.
When he can pay attention to anything again, Luo Binghe has thrown the covers aside, and in an apparent spirit of 'better to ask forgiveness than permission', is licking Shen Qingqiu's thighs clean. He looks up when Shen Qingqiu stiffens, catches his eye, and then deliberately drags his tongue over a white splash on Shen Qingqiu's skin.
Somehow Shen Qingqiu's hand is in Luo Binghe's hair without his concious volition, digging into his curls, hard, as Luo Binghe sticks his tongue out to show the come on it before swallowing with a deliberate air of satisfaction. "Shizun tastes so good to his disciple."
"Then why don't you take all you want?" says Shen Qingqiu, even knowing what he's letting himself in for.
"Husband is so good to me," murmurs Luo Binghe, with a coquettish glance from under his lashes, and bends down again, focused on his treat.