So embarassing.. Yet i'm so turned on..
———
Shang Qinghua didn't know how he got here.
No, he knew. He absolutely knew.
One moment, he had been sitting by the fire, trying to process the fact that Mobei-Jun had just kissed him and claimed him like some sort of treasure.
The next? He was trapped in the demon's iron grip, held securely in his lap like a fragile thing that might escape.
Mobei's arms were wrapped around him in a way that left no room for argument.
His entire body was too warm, his heartbeat too loud in his ears. And worst of all?
Mobei-Jun showed zero signs of letting go.
Qinghua swallowed, stiffening as the demon's steady breath ghosted against his ear.
"...You're really not going to let me go, huh?"
"No."
The answer was so blunt, so unapologetically firm, that Qinghua had to physically stop himself from squeaking.
Okay. Okay. He could handle this.
He could handle sitting in Mobei-Jun's lap. He could handle the way the demon's arms locked around him like chains.
He could handle the possessiveness in his voice, the way he had said "you're mine" as if it was an undeniable fact.
What he absolutely could not handle?
The slow, deliberate way Mobei's fingers brushed against his waist, just barely tracing over the fabric of his robes.
Shang Qinghua's breath hitched.
That bastard was doing it on purpose!
"Mobei," he gritted out, "if you're trying to seduce me, I—"
"I'm keeping you warm."
Liar. LIAR.
"You—You're a demon! You don't even get cold!"
Mobei-Jun hummed, tilting his head slightly as he rested his chin on Qinghua's shoulder. "You do."
That should not have sounded so intimate.
Shang Qinghua felt his resolve crumbling at an alarming rate.
It was bad enough that Mobei was all over him, but now he was saying things like this with that completely serious expression?!
"You…" Qinghua swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. "You really don't do things halfway, huh?"
Mobei-Jun didn't respond right away. Instead, he shifted slightly, pulling Qinghua closer—as if that was even possible.
"I don't," he finally said. "Not with you."
Okay. That was it.
That was the moment Shang Qinghua realized he was doomed.
Absolutely, completely doomed.
A weak laugh bubbled up in his throat.
"You really… really have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?"
Mobei-Jun finally pulled back slightly, his sharp blue gaze meeting Qinghua's with something unreadable.
"I do."
Qinghua's breath caught.
Mobei's fingers trailed up, brushing against the side of his neck—the same place he had marked him earlier, biting down and claiming him without hesitation.
Qinghua shuddered.
"You react too easily," Mobei noted, his tone almost thoughtful.
"Wh—" Qinghua smacked his hand away, his face burning. "D-Don't say things like that!"
Mobei's lips curled up slightly—just slightly.
Was that a smirk?!
Oh, that was illegal.
"You—You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Qinghua accused, pointing a shaky finger at him.
Mobei-Jun's expression remained as impassive as ever, but the way he looked at Qinghua—like he was amused—made him want to scream.
"You keep making noises," Mobei remarked.
Shang Qinghua nearly died on the spot.
"I DO NOT—!!"
Mobei-Jun tilted his head. "You do."
Qinghua wanted to die.
Right here.
Right now.
"Listen, buddy," he hissed, shoving at Mobei's chest (to absolutely no effect),
"if you're going to keep making me feel things, at least have the decency to—!"
He didn't get to finish.
Because in the next second, Mobei-Jun's lips were on his again.
It wasn't like the first kiss.
The first had been claiming. Possessive. A silent demand that left no room for argument.
This one was different.
It was slow. Deliberate.
Like Mobei was taking his time to memorize him, to explore every reaction Qinghua had under his touch.
Qinghua melted.
There was no point in fighting it. No point in pretending like he wasn't already completely, utterly ruined by this demon.
His fingers curled into Mobei's robes, pulling him closer. The warmth, the pressure of the kiss, the way Mobei's hand slid up to cradle the back of his head—it was too much.
And yet, not enough.
When Mobei finally pulled away, Qinghua was breathless. His head spun, his chest rising and falling far too quickly.
Mobei-Jun studied him, his expression unreadable.
Then, after a moment, he smirked.
HE SMIRKED.
"You like it," he said simply.
Shang Qinghua wanted to fling himself into the lake.
"Y-You—!! That's—That's not the point!!"
Mobei-Jun leaned in again.
Shang Qinghua yelped.
"NO MORE, NO MORE, I'M GOING TO DIE—!!"
Mobei-Jun huffed, but he relented.
Instead, he simply pulled Qinghua against his chest again, holding him there like he belonged.
Qinghua let out a long, shaky sigh. His heart would not calm down.
"...You're really not letting me go, are you?"
Mobei-Jun's arms tightened around him.
"No."
Qinghua closed his eyes, pressing his face against Mobei's shoulder.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I figured."
And for once?
He didn't mind.