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Shang Qinghua had always assumed there was a special corner of hell waiting for him as the sell-out author of a sprawling, trope-riddled stallion novel. Never had he, even in his wildest imaginings, considered it would be shaped like a beautiful, antique oak desk piled so high with paperwork he couldn't see the rest of the room when he sat down to work.
His tea had gone cold a shichen ago. He stared at it morosely, channeled a bit of qi to reheat it, and was diving back into his accounting when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” he snapped, manfully resisting the urge to crumple the document in his hand.
The door swung open and a tall demon swept into the room. Huh. Nineteen, one of Mobei-jun’s personal guards. As a rule, they never entered this part of the palace; they most certainly did not interact with the resident human.
“How can I help?” Shang Qinghua stifled a wince. That sort of reflexive politeness was exactly why his king’s demons did not respect him. “And make it quick,” he added, aiming for stern and landing short.
“There is an issue,” said Nineteen, dipping his head almost imperceptibly.
“One that can’t wait?” asked Shang Qinghua, looking at the teetering piles of documents around him.
“This needs your personal attention,” replied Nineteen. He paused. “Apologies.”
Shang Qinghua shot to his feet. One of Mobei-jun’s guards said sorry.
He left the room at a dead run. Nineteen's longer legs meant Shang Qinghua was hauling ass to keep up with him, and as they rounded the corner, the sounds of a battle became more evident. My king, Shang Qinghua wearily thought to himself, I leave you alone for one day and you are already redecorating the place with demon guts?
"What happened?" he cried out over the rising din.
"The southern sparrow demons brought their clan leader's daughter as a prospective bride," Nineteen called back. The bastard didn't even have the decency to sound out of breath.
"Is that all?" Demons were constantly attempting to—
"For you," Nineteen added, just as he pushed open the doors.
Eyes flitting across the ensuing chaos, Shang Qinghua tried to make sense of the situation in more ways than one. While this was the first time a prospective bride had been brought to the palace for Shang Qinghua, he could see no immediate reason that his king would escalate directly to all-out war. Just how small a dowry had they offered?
As he picked out the details of the skirmish and its combatants, Shang Qinghua’s concerns jumped tracks to matters of more immediate urgency. He had expected blood and viscera, and there was certainly enough of that, but Mobei-jun was not in the midst of the fray; in fact, Shang Qinghua couldn’t see him anywhere. And the sparrow demons were all pressed against the far wall of the chamber, flocking around a figure that could only be the clan leader’s daughter. And Mobei-jun’s guards…were fighting each other?
"What the—" he managed to get out before throwing himself sideways to dodge a deflected spear. Nineteen tugged him roughly aside, placing himself between Shang Qinghua and the ongoing battle.
Shang Qinghua's shock must have shown in his expression; Nineteen sighed and drew his sword. "Mobei-jun would be displeased if you were injured," he explained, knocking a thrown axe out of the air.
Peering around Nineteen's shoulders, Shang Qinghua's eyes widened. While none of his king's guards could possibly compare to Mobei-jun himself, they were still staggeringly impressive in combat. Shang Qinghua allowed himself a few seconds just to watch, then cleared his throat and spoke up.
"And what, exactly, is it you expected me to be able to do, here?"
Nineteen grunted, swiveling slightly to parry an incoming strike and sweeping the legs from the attacking demon in one smooth maneuver. “Mobei-jun is not here, so you are in charge of the palace. It is your responsibility.” Blocking swords with one hand and holding Shang Qinghua bodily upright with the other, Nineteen spoke again. “Orders?” The fucker still wasn’t out of breath.
Almost despite himself, Shang Qinghua’s brain began to logically order priorities. “Get us over there,” he panted, gesturing to the sparrow demon contingent. “Let’s see if we can at least avoid having to explain away the deaths of any southern demons within the palace.” He shuddered. “The last time it took weeks of diplomatic missives and a significant lightening of the palace coffers to smooth the waters.”
Nineteen did not respond verbally, but did begin carving them a path. Unsheathing his own sword, Shang Qinghua did his level best to both defend himself and stay the hell out of Nineteen's way. The demon was already massive, and wielding a sword meant his reach was formidable as fuck.
Where the hell is my king? Shang Qinghua whined internally, swiping an incoming staff from the air just before it clobbered him in the head. He knew I would be in my study all day, unable to attend court! "Being a king must be nice," he muttered under his breath and winced as Nineteen neatly sliced a leg off a guard. "Heavens forbid the man attend to his responsibilities."
The ebb and flow of battle spat them out neatly in front of the sparrow demons. Alarmed, they momentarily broke ranks, allowing Shang Qinghua his first glimpse of his prospective partner, who must surely have been rueing the day she allowed herself to be taken north. There were many reasons Shang Qinghua would not have accepted the proposal – one of which was conveniently nowhere to be found – but there was something strangely magnetic about the otherwise unremarkable woman in front of him, and it took him several moments to collect his thoughts.
As he opened his mouth to deliver orders and give what assurance he could to the visiting demons, Shang Qinghua was shoved from behind. Hard. He lifted himself to his elbows to find Nineteen looming over him, snarling. “Mine,” Nineteen hissed, and turned towards the sparrow demon bride. As he approached his target, another of Mobei-jun’s hulking guards cannoned into him, and both were swept away in a swirl of swords and cursing.
"What?" Shang Qinghua whimpered, too startled to do much more than hoist himself back to his feet. The sparrow demon guards eyed him warily, and Shang Qinghua quickly sheathed his sword. "Ah, greetings," he said on autopilot. When their expressions didn't change, his mouth tacked on "Welcome to the Northern Desert kingdom."
The words were so embarrassing, Shang Qinghua almost hoped they hadn't heard him over the clang of weaponry and shouting. What kind of welcome could this possibly be? And genuinely, truly, what in the actual fuck was going on? Had Nineteen said 'mine'? Like a claim?
"Are you the human Shang Qinghua?" the sparrow demon bride eventually asked. Blinking back from his racing thoughts, Shang Qinghua hurried to do as much damage control as possible.
“I am,” he replied. “I believe you wished to talk about a marriage. May I suggest,” Shang Qinghua continued, “that we go elsewhere.” He broke off as the sparrow demon guards deflected a particularly determined attack from Four, who was sent hurtling back into the midst of the pack. For now at least. Shang Qinghua had to get the visitors out of here fast, and he wasn’t above a bit of simpering to do it. He extended his hand towards the demon woman. “Shall we? We can get to know each other better,” he suggested, his winning smile somewhat undermined by the hatchet that buried itself in the wall beside his head.
“You?” the woman sneered. “I have no interest in marrying you.”
“But…” Shang Qinghua longed for the straightforward hell of paperwork in comparison to whatever bewildering clusterfuck this was.
“I’m here for Mobei-jun,” she said, all but pouting. “Everyone knows he turns down every match that is presented to him, so I decided to take a different approach.”
Shang Qinghua refrained from rolling his eyes. Barely. "Right. Great. Look, no matter what you are here for, can we take this elsewhere? Before one of us accidentally ends up dead?"
"Mistress," one of the guards murmured. "He is right."
"Take me to Mobei-jun," she demanded. Gods above, as if Shang Qinghua didn't spend enough time dealing with spoiled royalty already.
"My king is currently indisposed—"
"Enough excuses! I will kill you myself if you do not—"
Her voice cut off as the wall behind her dematerialized into a shadow portal, and Shang Qinghua did not even try to hide his sigh of relief. "My lady," he said, smug. "It appears you will get your opportunity to speak with my king after all."
“Good,” she smirked. “Time to get what I came for.” The demon reached into her robes, her eyes closed in concentration. The air grew heavy and electric. All around, the sounds of battle dissipated then died altogether. As one, the palace demons swung their heads towards the sparrow demon bride, stumbling forwards then lunging at one another once more as they tangled hopelessly together, raking at one another with their teeth and claws, weapons forgotten.
Icy air stirred the hair at the nape of Shang Qinghua’s neck. Mobei-jun strode from the shadows, gaze fixed on the demon woman. She smiled, and Shang Qinghua’s relief vanished like smoke.
"Xie Chun of the Southwest Forest Swallow Demon clan greets the Mobei-jun," the demon said, her voice low and sultry. Shang Qinghua found himself straining to remain still, wanting to move closer to her.
She must be in possession of an artifact of some kind, or a spell. Gritting his teeth, Shang Qinghua dragged his attention to Mobei-jun, who had jerked to a halt, his eyes wide and dark. The corners of his mouth lifted away from his teeth, a deep breath sucking past his fangs. Did he just…try to catch her scent? Mercy, if she is able to bewitch even a demon as powerful as Mobei-jun, this situation is far worse than Shang Qinghua imagined.
"My king," Shang Qinghua managed, stumbling forward a step. "She is using some sort of foul magic—"
Cutting Shang Qinghua off with a gesture, Mobei-jun continued towards the other demon, stopping directly in front of her. “Xie Chun,” he said, inclining his head.
“My king!” Shang Qinghua implored, desperation staining his voice.
“Silence,” commanded Mobei-jun, eyes never leaving the woman in front of him.
Turning her head, Xie Chun shot Shang Qinghua a triumphant smile. “We have much to discuss,” she said, once more facing Mobei-jun, reaching out to trail her fingers along his forearm.
Around him, Shang Qinghua could hear the assembled demons pushing forwards, spurred by whatever enchantment Xie Chun was weaving. Shang Qinghua remained rooted to the spot, eyes on the floor, fists clenched at his sides. How could this be happening? Surely, even if the demon managed to trick her way into Mobei-jun's bed, she could not realistically expect to keep the entire palace under some sort of spell for the months or more it would take to actually arrange and plan a wedding?
Perhaps the marriage is not her actual goal, he thought suddenly. "My king—"
"Silence him," Xie Chun snapped over her shoulder, and Shang Qinghua was given a few precious seconds to watch her walk away with his king, arm-in-arm, before a saber hilt to his temple made the world go black.
***
He awoke later, head still swimming and a persistent ache in his skull reminding him of his failure. Shang Qinghua dragged himself to a sitting position and looked around. In the corner sat the antique desk, its mountains of paper now the least of his worries. At least he was in his own room, however small a mercy that was. So how did he get here?
A tall shadow detached itself from the wall and moved towards the bed. Nineteen. The demon was calm and focused on Shang Qinghua; the spell or charm or whatever the fuck it was must no longer be active. Shang Qinghua flatly refused to examine the possible reasons for that too closely. He looked up at Nineteen. Would the demon even be prepared to work with him if it wasn’t on Mobei-jun’s orders?
“Nineteen,” said Shang Qinghua. “I need your help.” Nineteen glanced his way, but offered no response. "I don't think she is actually interested in wedding my king."
Brow furrowing, Nineteen tilted his head. "Then why employ seduction magic?"
"I don't know," Shang Qinghua admitted. "It could be almost anything. An assassination attempt, a ploy to gain access to the inner palace, or, hell, she might just want to bear a child fathered by such a strong demon." Pausing, Shang Qinghua's fists tightened on his blanket. "Is…my king still laboring under her enchantment?"
At Nineteen's grimace, Shang Qinghua's unease swelled in his gut. "Where are they now?"
Nineteen's eyes darted to Shang Qinghua, then away. "His personal quarters."
Hissing in frustration, Shang Qinghua did an inventory of their options. Getting to Mobei-jun’s quarters would be difficult. Even if the guards, like Nineteen, had returned to normal, they were suspicious of him on the best of days, let alone now. With Nineteen’s help he could probably fight his way to Mobei-jun’s door, but Shang Qinghua would prefer not to resolve this situation by slaughtering the entire household staff. And that would still leave the problem of Mobei-jun himself; there was no besting him by brute force.
Stiffening, Shang Qinghua's eyes widened. Mobei-jun wasn’t the weak link here, but Xie Chun still could be. He leapt to his feet. “Nineteen, where are the other sparrow demons?”
“In the guest rooms; Mobei-jun gave orders that they were to be treated courteously.”
“We might need to disobey those orders.” Shang Qinghua paused in the process of putting on fresh robes to check the big demon’s reaction. He seemed, as he did with most things, utterly impassive. Well, at least it wasn’t a flat-out rejection.
“Come on,” urged Shang Qinghua, already on his way to the door. “We need more information, and I don’t mind ruffling some feathers to get it.” Nineteen nodded, then followed him into the hallway.
"Alright, so," Shang Qinghua mumbled to himself as he patted down pouches and checked his qiankun sleeves. "Talismans, serums, antidotes—" He darted a glance at Nineteen, but he did not seem—outwardly, anyhow—ruffled by what Shang Qinghua had heard many a demon in the palace call his 'dirty human tricks'.
"Do you have a plan?" Nineteen asked. "They are unlikely to cooperate."
"Shock and awe," Shang Qinghua replied. When Nineteen only blinked, Shang Qinghua smirked. "I may not be as strong physically as a demon, but I am still a peak lord of Cang Qiong."
Briefly, Nineteen turned to meet his eyes. When he returned his attention forward, Shang Qinghua was almost certain he'd seen the hint of a smile on the demon's face.
***
The wide double doors made a satisfying roar when Shang Qinghua blew them off their hinges, and he wasted no time throwing a talisman inside that would immobilize the sparrow demons until he and Nineteen could get them secured. He grabbed a bundle of binding cables from his sleeve and tossed them to Nineteen, and Nineteen made quick work of it.
“We,” said Shang Qinghua, approaching the most lavishly dressed of the demons, “need to know what is going on, what Xie Chun intends.” He stopped in front of the man and slowly rested one finger on the hilt of his sword. “Now.”
“Our mistress has an artifact that makes her irresistible to all who see her!”
Beside him, Shang Qinghua saw Nineteen roll his eyes. “Well, yes,” sighed Shang Qinghua, “that much was evident by the pitched battle she orchestrated in my palace.” He paused. “But you were not affected. You must have taken precautions, which means you know the whole plan. What comes next?”
Frustratingly, the man refused to say another word. A low rumble began in Nineteen’s chest, growing until the room seemed to vibrate with it. As Nineteen’s lips pulled back in a snarl, the sparrow demon cowered and shot a panicked glance at Shang Qinghua.
"If you are looking to me to save you, you should know I cannot best Nineteen in battle," Shang Qinghua informed him, shrugging. "Not to mention, your life means nothing to me. If he kills you, I'll get the information from someone else."
Shang Qinghua allowed himself to pan the room, slowly, and was gratified to see all the bound demons watching him fearfully. "So if you and your clanmates would like to leave this place alive, I suggest you start explaining."
With a labored swallow, the demon nodded. "Fine, then. Our mistress covets your lord’s greatest power. She has spent many moons creating a talisman that will transfer a portion of those powers to his paramour.” He smiled, the expression remaining on his face even when Nineteen took another step forwards. “Kill me if you must,” he continued, “but I would imagine her plan is coming to fruition right about now.”
It wasn't as if Shang Qinghua had not been thinking the same thing, but somehow, hearing this random demon speak it aloud made his chest ache. Not now, he admonished himself. His heartbreak was the least of his current problems.
"Nineteen," he said, voice hard. "Can we make it to my king's chambers?"
Straightening his shoulders, Nineteen turned fully toward him. "All guards and household staff have been instructed to ensure Mobei-jun remains undisturbed."
"Are they still under the thrall of that woman, or are they simply afraid to go against his orders?"
Nineteen paused, his expression carefully blank. "To do so means death."
Shang Qinghua found himself holding in a scream. "I'm well aware." He took a deep, slow breath. "But the situation is grave, and Mobei-jun is in danger. Surely this is an extenuating circumstance." Shang Qinghua's eyes blew wide when Nineteen smirked.
"If I did not believe so, we would not be here right now."
Unable to help the smile spreading on his face, Shang Qinghua laughed, short and sharp. "I suppose not. Will any of the others help us?"
"We will find out, won't we?" Nineteen replied, clutching the hilt of his sword.
The journey to his king’s chambers passed with far less difficulty than Shang Qinghua had feared. The household staff scuttled out their way immediately, no match for a cultivator even without Nineteen at his side. Mobei-jun’s personal guards made no move to stop them either. They simply watched as Shang Qinghua and Nineteen ran by, stony-eyed. Out of sight of Xie Chun, they were no longer under her thrall. Whether they disregarded their orders due to respect for Nineteen or fear of what Mobei-jun might do if they hurt his human, Shang Qinghua neither knew nor cared.
The heavy oak doors to Mobei-jun’s chambers were, predictably, shut. Saving Shang Qinghua the agony of faltering outside, terrified of what he might see behind them, Nineteen simply barrelled into them, splintering both, and spilling warm candlelight into the shadow-dark corridor.
As Shang Qinghua entered the room, Mobei-jun and Xie Chun were reclined on the bed. Deliberately avoiding the sight, Shang Qinghua’s eyes darted along the surface of the tables and desks. There. A talisman. With a burst of qi, he reduced it to ash.
“You’re too late,” crooned Xie Chun. “It’s already been activated. Now it’s just a matter of time.”
"Nineteen," Mobei-jun growled. "What is the meaning of this?" In a single swift movement, he leapt from the bed, an ice spear materializing in his hand. "We were not to be disturbed."
Ah, Shang Qinghua thought numbly. He is beautiful, even when he is furious. "My king," he forced out, lowering his head to pull his eyes from the captivating expanse of Mobei-jun's skin. "This demon has activated a talisman that—"
Xie Chun's claws were around his throat before he saw her move. "Silence, servant!" she screamed, spittle landing on his cheek. "I should have killed—"
Mobei-jun was at Shang Qinghua's side in an instant, and when he struck Xie Chun, sending her careening across the room, the force of her impact cratered the wall. "You are not authorized to touch him." Shang Qinghua couldn't decide whether he was more staggered that Mobei-jun stuck up for him, or that he was currently a handspan away from the demon's entirely naked body. "Only I may discipline Shang Qinghua."
"My king—"
"Explain," Mobei-jun snapped, crossing his arms over his thick chest. It was a gargantuan effort for Shang Qinghua to drag his attention away from the sight.
“The talisman,” rasped Shang Qinghua, each word dragging painfully from his throat. “It allows her to steal your ‘greatest power’. It’s true, my king; I swear.”
Mobei-jun snapped his attention to Xie Chun, who had risen to her feet and was sashaying towards them, seemingly unconcerned by Mobei-jun’s attack. “He’s right,” she said. “But what’s a little shared power between lovers?” With Mobei-jun’s attention was fixed on Xie Chun once more, his movements were softening again, his eyes unfocused. He moved a half-step away from Shang Qinghua.
Seeing this, a cruel smile stole over Xie Chun’s face. “He seems to like you, and we can’t have that. Let’s see what these powers can do.” She reached towards Shang Qinghua, eyes narrowed in concentration. Abruptly, she pulled back, staring at her hand in disbelief. ”It should be working by now.”
Thoughts echoing her confusion, Shang Qinghua glanced back at the table, the burnt remains of the talisman still smoking. Had he managed to arrive in time after all?
With a growl of fury, Xie Chun produced a dagger from the wisps of clothing she still wore. "No matter. I do not need his power to kill you."
Shang Qinghua didn't know if Mobei-jun would protect him again, and wasted no time waiting for it, thrusting a hand toward Xie Chun. Before he could properly release his summoned qi, Nineteen's sword whistled past Shang Qinghua's ear, tearing off her arm and slamming her to the wall.
"Nineteen!" Mobei-jun roared, lunging for the other demon, but with Shang Qinghua in the way, all he succeeded in doing was knocking the three of them to the floor.
"This is not how I imagined getting you naked on top of me," Shang Qinghua grumbled, struggling to breathe with Mobei-jun's weight draped across his torso. Nineteen squirmed uncomfortably beneath Shang Qinghua's elbows. Already, the fury in Mobei-jun's eyes was dying out, replaced by profound confusion.
"You… What is the meaning of this?" Mobei-jun asked, clearly unsettled. He began to turn his head, eyes seeking Xie Chun as she stood clutching her bleeding shoulder, but Shang Qinghua grabbed his face and turned it back to him.
"She had you under an enchantment," Shang Qinghua managed, wincing at Mobei-jun's knee digging into his thigh. "My king, could you perhaps…get off of me?"
With great dignity, Mobei-jun scrambled backward and lifted his stunningly naked body from the ground. Shang Qinghua rolled off of Nineteen as quickly as he could, clambering to his feet.
Behind Mobei-jun, Xie Chun moaned, staring at the spreading pool of her blood. With grim inevitability, Mobei-jun began to turn towards the noise. No. Shang Qinghua would not allow him to fall under the enchantment again. Already, Nineteen was rising, eyes casting around for anything that could be used as a weapon, but he wouldn’t make it in time. In a single step, Shang Qinghua closed the distance between himself and his king, throwing his arms around his waist. He had to get Mobei-jun out of here, get him away, get him far from this cursed fucking woman.
Shang Qinghua closed his eyes and pulled. Please. Behind him, the world tore open, toppling both of them into the void.
***
When he opened his eyes, Shang Qinghua was in his own quarters, still tightly grasping a double handful of naked Mobei-jun.
“My king!” he exclaimed, skittering back and releasing his hold. “Thank the heavens. Now that you have brought us here, we can determine—”
“I,” interrupted Mobei-jun, pinning Shang Qinghua with his gaze, “was not the one who brought us here.”
"What?" Shang Qinghua spun on his heel; these were certainly his rooms, and it had certainly been a shadow portal that landed them here. "My king?"
"Shang Qinghua. Why are you able to wield shadow?"
A laugh barked from Shang Qinghua's throat. "You are implying I did this?"
Mobei-jun's lip curled in a sneer, revealing the tip of his fang. "I am implying nothing. I am informing you, and demanding to know how you came by this power."
"That isn't possible," Shang Qinghua said, taking a step back.
Mobei-jun's eyebrow lifted into an irritated curve; he clearly had no intention of repeating himself. Scrambling for an explanation, Shang Qinghua was reminded of the sparrow demon's confession.
"Uh," Shang Qinghua said, attempting to order his thoughts. "This might have something to do with Xie Chun's talisman. She must have made a mistake somewhere. I think she was attempting to take the shadow-stepping ability for herself." Frowning, Shang Qinghua began to pace. "Where could it have gone wrong? Usually, if an error is made in a talisman or spell, it becomes completely unusable."
Mobei-jun—who was still without clothing, to Shang Qinghua's distracted distress and delight—seated himself on the bed. "What was the exact purpose of the talisman?"
"I only know what her subordinate told me, but he said it was to transfer some of your power to your paramour."
“Paramour,” repeated Mobei-jun, the word a foreign object in his mouth. “Explain.”
Shang Qinghua’s eyes slipped shut. Of course the universe would put him in a position where he had to explain what a paramour was to the – still naked – man he was secretly in love with.
Fine. Shang Qinghua turned his back to Mobei-jun before he began. If he had to humiliate himself in this new and extraordinary way, he would not do it while looking at his king’s dick.
“It refers to someone you care for. Someone you…want.” Good. His voice was steady, confident; he could do this.
“A lover?” Mobei-jun’s question rumbled in the air, and Shang Qinghua swallowed hard.
“Yes,” replied Shang Qinghua, rushing his words. “Or a prospective lover. The word also implies a romantic connection.”
“A partner, then. A spouse.” His king’s voice was louder; he’d left the bed and was moving closer. Shang Qinghua fixed his gaze even more firmly on the far wall.
“No," Shang Qinghua forced out, “the relationship would be illicit, or at least not formalized.”
“Shang Qinghua.” Mobei-jun's words stirred the loose hair at Shang Qinghua’s neck. “Is it not obvious?”
Suppressing a shiver, Shang Qinghua pulled in a slow breath. What was his king doing? Had he forgotten he was currently without clothes? The proximity was excruciating!
"Obvious? Are we still speaking of the talisman?"
Hands gripped his shoulders; Shang Qinghua froze, but all Mobei-jun did was slowly turn him around. Closing his eyes, Shang Qinghua felt his cheeks heat. "My king," he whimpered, "please. You are undressed."
"The talisman worked perfectly, though not as she expected," Mobei-jun said, his voice quiet. "Shang Qinghua, do you understand?"
It took a moment for the words to process. "My king? Are you— What do you mean?"
"Look at me." Though softly spoken, the words were a command, so Shang Qinghua reluctantly opened his eyes. Before him stood Mobei-jun, his king, the man he had loved even before he existed, his expression more open and vulnerable than Shang Qinghua had ever seen.
"Do you understand?" Mobei-jun repeated, almost beseeching.
"My king," Shang Qinghua whispered. "What… You can't possibly mean—"
"Do you feel nothing for this king?"
Shang Qinghua felt his jaw slacken; could this demon be more frustrating?
“Of course I—” Shang Qinghua broke off. This was too much; it couldn’t be real. “I don’t see how this explains how the talisman worked,” he deflected.
“Qinghua!” Mobei-jun drew Shang Qinghua closer. “Answer me,” he demanded, close enough that the words rumbled through Shang Qinghua’s own chest.
“I— Yes. This…” Shang Qinghua sighed, the wave of his hand encompassing Mobei-jun, the palace, and much more. “You, my king, are all I have dreamed of. Yes, I feel something for you.” He shifted his gaze up, meeting his king’s icy eyes directly. “And the talisman?” Shang Qinghua asked, heart in his throat. “You see me as your…paramour?”
“We have a relationship, a bond. One which you seemed determined not to acknowledge. This fits the definition, yes?” Mobei-jun’s fingers were trailing lightly over Shang Qinghua’s shoulder, his claws dimpling the fabric of his robes.
“Yes,” Shang Qinghua breathed. “And your…feelings for me?”
Mobei-jun growled, the tips of his fangs sliding from his lips. "Have I not made myself clear?" he asked, wrapping an arm around Shang Qinghua's waist. Gods above, his king was embracing him. Shang Qinghua was having difficulty forming thoughts, but his body knew what it wanted, and his hands landed firmly on Mobei-jun's chest.
"My king," he whispered.
"Qinghua," Mobei-jun replied, tilting his head down, and just like that, Shang Qinghua was being kissed for the first time in his second life. It was gentle, the coolness of Mobei-jun's mouth a sweet pressure against his own, and it was so utterly overwhelming that Shang Qinghua could feel himself tearing up.
He loves me, Shang Qinghua realized, lips parting in a gasp, and suddenly the kiss was no longer gentle at all. "My king!" he slurred around Mobei-jun's tongue. Massive, clawed hands squeezed roughly at his ass, and Shang Qinghua was abruptly reminded of the fact that Mobei-jun was wearing not a single fucking scrap of clothing.
"Wait!" he cried, pushing Mobei-jun away, and sucked in a calming breath. "We still need to deal with Xie Chun, and the flock of sparrow demons, and you and I need to have a serious talk about what is going on with us, and for heaven's sake—"
Shang Qinghua opened a shadow portal, grabbing Mobei-jun by the shoulders. "Would you please go put on some fucking clothes!" he begged, and shoved the King of the Northern Desert into the dark, swirling qi.