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Luo Binghe didn’t mean to pull his pathetic self from the other world into his dream, he only wanted to snatch Shen Qingqiu, but no matter how weak, Luo Binghe is still Luo Binghe in any universe: he noticed it and latched onto his Shizun the last second. Shizun. The title rolls off his tongue, barely familiar, almost left in the past already. It’s eerie to look at a person wearing his old teacher’s face and see a smile rather than a sneer directed towards him, but there’s a growing part of him that wanted to see it again. This Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t smile at him but Luo Binghe would tolerate his other self’s existence for that. Probably. He’s itching for Xin Mo the second he senses his presence.
The stage is set, the lead actor has arrived, even if a pest has followed. But Luo Binghe can work with this.
His other self doesn’t have anything to protect his Shizun with, but he is still shielding him with his body, glaring at Luo Binghe like that makes any difference. It’s hilarious in a way, so powerless yet so loyal to the person who made Luo Binghe’s childhood a living hell.
“What do you want.” His other self aims for a threatening tone but this is Luo Binghe’s dream, he has no power here.
“I just borrowed Shizun for a chat.” Luo Binghe smirks at the sight of red eyes flashing. “You can crawl back to where you came from.”
“Don’t call him that!” His eyes flash again. The anger is radiating off him in ripples. “You have no right to call him that.”
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu calls. And there it is, that fondly exasperated tone Luo Binghe sometimes hears in his dreams. Why him, why him, why him—
Why not me.
Luo Binghe clenches his fists and yearns to have his sword with him. Nothing stops him from conjuring a Xin Mo replica and cutting his pathetic other self down right in front of Shen Qingqiu, but a dream blade wouldn’t be strong enough to kill him, at least he is not that weak.
It takes him a few moments to notice there’s something wrong with the other Luo Binghe: his movements are slow and there’s a thin but steady flow of dark qi oozing out of him. Curious.
Shen Qingqiu has a hand on his other self’s waist; is he in such a weakened state he needs help to stand upright?!
“You’re experiencing qi deviation and you thought it’s a good idea to hitch a ride to my dream world?” Luo Binghe mocks. What a fool. Does he want to die this much?
His other self snarls, eyes and demon mark flashing red, but Shen Qingqiu’s hand tightens on him. He whispers something Luo Binghe can’t hear, but its calming effect is clear.
“Let us go,” Shen Qingqiu says in a calm, even voice. It’s not a request, but not quite an order either. As if he could order the demon lord Luo Binghe around. Luo Binghe wouldn’t even tolerate that in bed, not from Shen Qingqiu at least, but he sometimes humors his wives if they desire.
Luo Binghe tilts his head. “Do you even know what’s wrong with him?”
Luo Binghe doesn’t know for sure but he has some inkling: the energy it emits feels familiar. He recalls a nasty poisonous plant he encountered while battling with one of the smaller demon clans near the northern border, its smell stomach-churning sweet, but he can also recall the stretch of the toy Sha Hualing bought from a nearby brothel, the toy he became intimately familiar with over the course of that night.
Shen Qingqiu flushes, but his other self just looks confused.
Luo Binghe shoots his most charming smile at Shen Qingqiu, sultry and a little on the sly side. “Shizun, why don’t you share this knowledge with your husband?” he purrs. “Or should I tell him?”
There’s no retort, no lashing out, just a confused “Shizun?”.
Visibly uncomfortable, Shen Qingqiu still doesn’t release the other Luo Binghe, just softly calls his name, distracted. It would be endearing if Luo Binghe didn’t start to get bored.
“You need to fuck a demon,” Luo Binghe says in his most natural conversational tone. “Or, more importantly, a demon needs to fuck you. How inconvenient for you.”
The flashing eyes are back. Pathetic.
“I only lay with Shizun—”
“Binghe!”
Shen Qingqiu looks conflicted. There’s some guilt and confusion oozing off him—how his other self doesn’t sense his lover’s emotions is beyond Luo Binghe.
“But the solution is so easy, you can just ask someone. Sha Hualing, maybe?” No reaction. “Mobei?” There’s a low growl. Oh. So he has thought about that before, how curious. Having slept with both of them, Luo Binghe can attest Sha Hualing’s talents in bed far outshine Mobei-Jun’s. He can’t imagine it being different in the other world.
“Let us go,” Shen Qingqiu insists. Luo Binghe just smiles. He has no intention of doing that. Initially he wanted to figure out what was the catalyst in the drastic change in Shen Qingqiu’s personality, but if he gets to toy with them both, that’s not a bad compromise.
The thought of playing with his other self to rile Shen Qingqiu is up shouldn’t be this appealing, but there’s a surge of want that catches him off guard. Shen Qingqiu, ever composed Shen Qingqiu slowly coming apart by seeing his husband touched by someone who is way more experienced and talented in bed is an oddly arousing mental image he has never thought about before. But Luo Binghe is good at getting what he wants, why should this be any different?
“And what would you do with him, Shizun? You have neither the power nor the means to cure him.”
Shen Qingqiu’s glare could bore a hole in Luo Binghe. “We’ll figure it out.”
Luo Binghe steps closer to them. “Find another cure? Or find someone to fuck him?” He raises an eyebrow.
Not waiting for an answer, Luo Binghe changes the dream world. They’re back in the bamboo house, but rather than the one from his own memories it’s a slightly different version from the one this Shen Qingqiu lives in. He is standing near the bed which he made bigger than he remembers, and the pair of master-disciple is standing a few feet from him.
His other self lunges for him, but Shen Qingqiu holds him back.
“I could teach you,” Luo Binghe offers. It’s not from the kindness of his heart. He wants to see Shen Qingqiu’s reactions and talking to his other self seems to be the way that provides the best results. “How to make someone feel good. Shizun will thank me later.”
Shen Qingqiu’s aloof mask breaks for a second. Luo Binghe would find Shen Qingqiu’s conflicting emotions heartbreaking if he was a better person.
Shen Qingqiu tugs the other Luo Binghe down and whispers something to him. Luo Binghe can’t hear them what they’re talking about, but he couldn’t care less. In the end he always gets what he wants, this time it’s not going to be any different. Shen Qingqiu, untouchable Immortal Master Shen Qingqiu, flushed and aroused all because of him—Luo Binghe stopped questioning his own desires a while ago.
He sits down on the edge of the bed and waits. He knows they are going to take his offer, he just needs to wait it out. They don’t have much of a choice and Luo Binghe is right there, oh so conveniently.
After what must have been about five minutes they separate: Shen Qingqiu sits down, turning his back at them, and the other Luo Binghe starts walking towards the bed. He stops in front of Luo Binghe and folds his arms.
“All right,” he grits out. That was quicker than Luo Binghe expected. He glances at Shen Qingqiu but his other self blocks his view.
“You’re not touching Shizun.” A growl. How sweet. Luo Binghe is almost touched.
Luo Binghe smirks. “Unless he wants it.”
“He won’t.”
Luo Binghe stands up and glances towards Shen Qingqiu. “Is that so, Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu looks up and glares at him. Outwardly he’s unrattled but Luo Binghe can smell that anger and worry is not the only emotion he feels. He might be unaware of them, but Luo Binghe’s powers are stronger than that, no matter if his weakling self is oblivious to it. But who can blame Shen Qingqiu, really. His own husband and someone who’s the splitting image of him, together? Let’s make the fantasies he didn’t even know he had into a reality. He would put up a show even, just for Shizun.
Luo Binghe steps closer to his other self.
“You can imagine it’s Shizun who’s fucking you while I take you from behind,” Luo Binghe whispers. “Or I could take you right in front of him while he watches.” The wave of arousal that comes from his other self makes his words stuck in his throat. That’s what he is into?!
“Don’t touch Shizun,” his other self growls again. “Don’t even look at him.”
Luo Binghe snorts. “He can stay at the other side of the room. Or he can come join us.”
“Don’t,” his other self says as a warning. As if that made any difference.
He shrugs off his robes in such a unceremonial and unappealing fashion it makes Luo Binghe wonder if that’s how he undresses whenever he fucks his Shizun—or is it the other way around? Luo Binghe could see the appeal in both. The sight of an ugly scar on his other self’s chest takes him aback for a second, but he doesn’t care enough to ask.
Luo Binghe can’t see Shen Qingqiu but he feels his gaze on himself. Good. Keep paying attention, dearest Master. He reaches out, grabs his other self by the hair, and smashes their lips together. There’s a sound, something between a snarl and a surprised gasp, but Luo Binghe swallows it. The kiss is a mess, there’s nothing pleasant in it. He backs his other self up to the edge of the bed and pushes him down on it.
“Sit,” Luo Binghe orders when he pulls away. He struggles but Luo Binghe holds him down by the shoulder. Luo Binghe glances down at his half hard cock. What is he faking a fight for?
He fetches a jar of oil and tosses it on the bed. His other self opens it and frowns, more puzzled than curious. He dips a finger into it and stares at the sticky substance.
“I got it from a brothel in the demon realm,” Luo Binghe explains. Just how incompetent his other self is?!
His other self flushes. “Ours is not this,” he frowns again “wet.”
Luo Binghe snorts. He loosens his outer robes, but he doesn’t take them off. He won’t, unless Shen Qingqiu asks for it.
“Get on the bed,” Luo Binghe orders.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” his other self argues with a slight flash of his eyes. But he is all bark and no bite—he gets on the bed obediently all the same, kneeling in the middle of it.
Luo Binghe crawls behind him and positions him to face Shen Qingqiu who is very pointedly not looking at them. Luo Binghe nudges his other self’s legs further apart and grabs his wrists, pulling his arms over his head. He suspects even if his other self wasn’t injured Luo Binghe himself would be stronger because it’s his dream realm they’re in.
Careful not to spill it, he dips two fingers into the lube. The first touch is a light brush of fingers along his inner thigh, paying close attention not to smear the lube. He continues upwards, and circles his other self’s entrance which earns him a shudder. Oversensitive or inexperienced? Luo Binghe can’t decide but he’ll get to learn it soon enough.
He doesn’t want to drag it out for too long, after teasing for about a minute he pushes one finger in, right to the knuckle. It’s met with no resistance so he adds a second finger soon enough. His other self hisses, and a glance over his shoulder tells Luo Binghe his cock got harder.
He sets a slow pace first, never quite hitting that spot inside him that would make his toes curl.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” Luo Binghe mocks just in time with angling his fingers. His other self’s jaw tightens. “Don’t hold back.”
He doesn’t get an answer, but he earns a slight hitch of breath when he picks up the pace. At the first muffled moan Shen Qingqiu’s head snaps up. Luo Binghe smirks, and leans closer.
“You’re so bad at this,” Luo Binghe whispers. His lips are almost brushing against his other self’s neck. “Are you sure your husband wouldn’t leave you because you’re leaving him that unsatisfied?”
There’s a snarl and he struggles in Luo Binghe’s hold, but Luo Binghe holds his wrists in an iron grip.
“There’s a place for him in my harem,” Luo Binghe continues. He angles his head so Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t be able to read what he’s saying from his lips. “I would personally tend to him. Court him and leave him flustered until he’s the one who begs me to touch him. I would take him apart, slowly, until he forgets his own name. Until he forgets you.”
“Shizun would never—”
Luo Binghe snorts. “You’re awfully confident in yourself for someone this lousy at lovemaking.” His choice of words earns him an icy glare. Luo Binghe adds a third finger and his reward is a low moan, the loudest one so far. Luo Binghe feels Shen Qingqiu’s gaze on himself.
“I could take you apart just by fucking you with my fingers. Are you imagining Shizun in my place? Do you let him fuck you, all pliant and obedient? Does he call you a ‘good boy’, praising you for taking his cock so well?”
Feeling his other self’s full-body shiver against him shouldn’t be this arousing but somehow it is. Luo Binghe wonders what he’s getting off on: the mental images his words conjure or the way Luo Binghe is talking to him.
“Don’t… talk about him!”
“But he’s right here, eyes all on you. Don’t tell me you can’t smell his arousal.”
“Shizun hates you.”
Luo Binghe smirks. “He used to.” He leans down and presses a featherlight kisses on his other self’s neck in a mockery of intimacy. “I wouldn’t be so sure anymore.”
Luo Binghe picks up the pace, fucking him with his fingers the same way he would with his cock. Thighs trembling, his other self comes with a low moan, without even being touched.
There’s a whimper of “Sh-Shizun” and Luo Binghe can see the flush that blooms on Shen Qingqiu’s face at that tone. Shen Qingqiu shifts, trying to hide his aroused state, but Luo Binghe is no fool.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe purrs, not even bothering to pull his fingers out. Even after coming once, his other self’s erection is not flagging, but that’s demon stamina for you. “This disciple would be honored if you came closer.”
Shen Qingqiu hesitates for a few beats, then stands up and walks towards them. He kneels on the bed in front of them and cradles the face of the other Luo Binghe with one hand—it’s pathetic how eagerly he leans into it. The touch looks so tender anger flares in Luo Binghe.
He would never touch you like that.
He watches them kiss. It’s so sickeningly sweet Luo Binghe wants to turn his head away, but he keeps his gaze on Shen Qingqiu. This softhearted version of his old master has one hand curled in his own robes, as if he’s holding back—Luo Binghe wants the robes off. He would be lying if he said he’s never thought of his own Shizun naked, laid out all open in front of him, but he likes this version better. He is more fun to play with.
Luo Binghe draws the line where Shen Qingqiu rests his forehead against his other self’s. He thrusts his fingers in again, which makes his other self jump and lean back into it. He lets out a low, pathetic whine, and a string of “Shizun, Shizun” follows. Luo Binghe grips his wrists tighter in his hand: in his weakened state his other self can’t break free. Don’t forget who is in control here.
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe calls. “Tell us what you want. This disciple would be happy to oblige.”
Shen Qingqiu flushes and keeps quiet. Luo Binghe takes it as an initiative to continue.
“May this disciple request you to disrobe?” Luo Binghe asks, aiming for his sweetest tone.
“Don’t talk to him,” his other self hisses.
“It’s all right, Binghe.”
With face flaming Shen Qingqiu takes off his outer robes. His inner robes hug his slender figure just the right way. Luo Binghe wants to touch him. He wants to kiss him, he wants to be the one undressing him, he wants to be inside him, claiming him. He wants to fuck him so hard he would think about Luo Binghe every time his husband fucks him, comparing them, and hating it. Next time, he promises himself, next time he’ll sneak Shen Qingqiu into his dream alone.
Without any prompting Shen Qingqiu opened his inner robes, exposing his hard cock.
“Please get comfortable, Shizun,” Luo Binghe says as if it was an innocent request. He pulls his fingers out and grabs his other self by the hair, not giving a damn about smearing lube in his hair. Luo Binghe nudges his legs even further with his knee, and pushes his head down with probably more force than necessary.
He can pinpoint the second Shen Qingqiu gets what Luo Binghe wants. His other self whines in protest but Luo Binghe pushes his head further down. Before he would fall over Luo Binghe releases his wrists but Luo Binghe doesn’t give him any other choice but to get on his hands and knees. It’s a compelling sight.
“Suck,” Luo Binghe orders. Shen Qingqiu visibly shivers, and Luo Binghe feels his other self shudder under him. As his other self takes the cock in front of him in his mouth Luo Binghe reaches for the jar of lube. He uses a liberal amount on his cock, and pushes in without any warning, but he times it with the rhythm his other self bobs his head.
His other self is tight around his cock, but there’s definitely no resistance. He does get regularly fucked by his Shizun then. Luo Binghe wonders how he is taken usually, on his hands and knees like now, or face to face.
Shen Qingqiu has a hand curled in the other Luo Binghe’s hair, holding him in place as he thrusts in his mouth. Luo Binghe starts fucking his other self deeper and faster. His moans are muffled by the cock in his mouth. Shen Qingqiu is whispering praises to him; Luo Binghe’s gut twists with jealousy. Next time it’s going to be him who will hear Shen Qingqiu bubble nonsense as Luo Binghe slowly takes him apart.
Shen Qingqiu slaps a hand on his mouth and comes with a small moan Luo Binghe’s demon hearing picks up on. His other self swallows it all, and pushes back against Luo Binghe’s thrusts, consciously or not, but urging him to go faster. He comes untouched again, and Luo Binghe finishes soon after, holding Shen Qingqiu’s gaze. When Luo Binghe pulls out his other self makes a noise of protest, most likely at the amount of come in his ass that has started to leak out of him already. It’s a satisfying sight. If they weren’t in Luo Binghe’s dream he would smell of Luo Binghe for days, if any demon was around.
The cure is quick acting: the flow of dark qi has decreased significantly, and it hasn’t even been a full minute.
Luo Binghe rises up and grabs Shen Qingqiu by the front of his robes. The kiss turns out to be more chaste than he wanted, but Shen Qingqiu makes a soft squeak that makes it all worth it, and he opens his mouth on reflex. Luo Binghe bites into his lower lip for a brief second then licks into his mouth.
Shen Qingqiu shoves him away before the other Luo Binghe could recover from his fucked-out haze. This whole arrangement was more pleasing than Luo Binghe has initially expected, but he will definitely ditch his other self next time.
Because there will be definitely a next time.
“This disciple is happy Shizun enjoyed himself,” Luo Binghe purrs. The glare that’s directed in his direction feels more like a reward then anything else. “It would be an honor if Shizun visited me again.”
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t agree but he doesn’t say no either.
Before his other self could stir and cause some annoyance Luo Binghe steals another kiss from Shen Qingqiu and waves a hand. The dream world changes, and he is back in his own bedchamber, alone. He drags a hand over his face.
This attempt was almost successful. If Luo Binghe had to assess it, he would say he managed to snatch four-fifth of their essence; it was even hard to tell in the beginning.
One day he will be able to fetch the real Shen Qingqiu, and not just a shadow of him.