Work Text:
Shang Qinghua was in the middle of reading some irrelevant thing to Mobei-Jun, when suddenly the scroll was ripped out of his hand.
"My king, forgive this insolent one, but—" Mobei-Jun cut him off with a gentle kiss against his mouth.
"No talk. Had enough." Mobei-Jun's hands reached to rest on Shang Qinghua's hips. Mobei-Jun purred as Shang Qinghua smiled against his lips, and wrapped his arms around Mobei-Jun's neck.
"Okay. No more talking." He pressed his lips against Mobei-Jun's again and again, softly and lovingly.
How could he not bend to his husband's every whim? He was his love.