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He trembles on the bed, shoulders tensed as he rests on his forearms. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles white as he tries to cling onto rationality. His spine curves up, waist pressed to the soaked cotton, his pelvis tilted towards the ceiling, his hard cock dangling between his legs unable to seek much-desired friction. Enormous hands grip his hips, thumbs coming up to stroke at the sensitive skin below his hip bones. He tries to struggle against the pleasure taut through his body, teased at by every slow, purposeful stroke into him. Pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat and evidence of hours of exertion, release kept at bay by the person currently rutting into him between his thighs.
Hip bones slam against the curve of his bottom, and he’s conscious of the muscled thighs pressing against his own. Skin to skin, it’s intimate. But he feels so exposed and vulnerable with his knees angled outwards, knowing that the owner of the strong, muscled form behind him has a clear view of where they are joined. Perfect line of sight for the way the long, thick cock with prominent veins running along its shaft would stretch his now soft, pliant rim open.
Shi Qingxuan moans, the sound bubbling up in his throat against his will. After days of this sinful torture, all he can feel now is pure pleasure rolling through his lower torso with every deliberate stroke from this god, and it has his thighs trembling.
No, not god. Ghost king.
“M-ming-xiong,” gasps Shi Qingxuan. Fingers dig in harder, causing him to jerk his hips up, his spine arching off the bed. The sheets stick to his front as he does so, and it feels awful, but he cannot bring himself to care enough to reach down and peel it off.
“I told you not to call me that,” says He Xuan. His pace doesn’t slow, but he grinds his hips at the end of every thrust, rutting his cock deep inside the fallen god below him. The sound is obscene in their ears, slick and wet.
Shi Qingxuan sobs from the overstimulation, having been edged towards completion for hours. He Xuan wouldn’t let him cum though, intent on drawing it out, the tip of his cock always just out of reach, never brushing Shi Qingxuan’s prostate when he wanted it the most. He Xuan didn’t intend to give him the much needed relief he sought until he decided it was fine to do so.
A hand slides up Shi Qingxuan’s spine, surprisingly gentle. He shivers from the intimacy of the contact, as fingers trail up the back of his neck to the front of his face, gripping his jaw. He Xuan leans forward, angling his cock in the same direction so that the weight of it presses into Shi Qingxuan’s prostate. He wriggles under the weight of He Xuan’s chest, but is kept in place by the hand still gripping his hip.
He Xuan turns Shi Qingxuan’s face to the side as he meets his lips for a kiss.
It’s open-mouthed and desperate, and Shi Qingxuan’s mouth is slack from the grip, so he lets He Xuan kiss him the way he wants to. Lips pressed against lips, wet tongue sliding against his, teeth pressing into the corner of his mouth, he is powerless against He Xuan. However He Xuan needs to take out his anger on him, Shi Qingxuan is willing to accept. Anything for his forgiveness.
He Xuan had promised him that he would suffer in a way that would make death seem like a welcome relief. While at first Shi Qingxuan thought this really was a fate worse than death, to have his brother’s killer take him as prisoner then put his hands on him like this (and it was so uncomfortable at first to even have one finger inside him), now he is unsure. While his heart is torn that his body feels so much physical pleasure from the same hands that broke his brother’s neck, now in the midst of rapture, he could only think to rut his hips back, even as guilt shadows him.
Those guilty hands, leaving an unseen trail of blood that burns like a brand on his skin, whose touch he could no longer get enough of.
Shi Qingxuan’s eyes are half-lidded as he keeps his lips and thighs strained open for He Xuan to dominate, gladly accepting the pleasure that assaults every part of his body. If all He Xuan wanted was to seek relief and pleasure using him, he would allow it gladly - a small price for all of the terrible things that he and his brother had inflicted on him. That he could even feel this good was mercy of a kind.
He looks up at He Xuan from below his lashes, and the normally cold visage is twisted into something he can’t read, brow furrowed and eyes downcast. He Xuan’s eyes flick up to meet Shi Qingxuan’s, and the slightly vulnerable expression hardens. His wet tongue’s movements become more frantic, teeth digging harder into his lips, and Shi Qingxuan moans. He Xuan’s hips roll into him, the shaft of his heavy cock pressed fully onto his prostate and with a cry, Shi Qingxuan finally teeters over the edge, sobbing softly at the relief denied to him. His cock, never once touched so far that day, splashes cum onto the bedsheets, and his inner walls clench down hard. He Xuan grunts against soft, pillowy lips, as the walls he is buried between tighten around his cock, milking him frantically.
Shudders tear through Shi Qingxuan's body as he cums, the tension of his upper body snapping and he buckles forward, cheek pressing to the pillow as He Xuan lets go of his jaw to grip back onto his hip. Growling, He Xuan thrusts in hard, fully sheathing himself in the still madly clenching hole before his cock shoots out thick ropes of cum deep inside Shi Qingxuan. He stays there in place, breathing heavily.
He pulls away and Shi Qingxuan sighs softly, but it's short lived and he finds himself being manhandled onto his back. He Xuan stares down at the man, whose lips are swollen and shiny, cheeks flushed, long dark hair messily strewn over the bedsheets, the picture of a debauched young master. He Xuan's face is impassive, but there's a hunger in his eyes that sends a small jolt of pleasure through Shi Qingxuan's belly.
Shi Qingxuan smiles softly, raises his arms tiredly towards He Xuan as if to embrace him.
He Xuan pointedly ignores him, grabbing his thighs and roughly parting them as wide as he can, pressing them back towards Shi Qingxuan's lower torso. His cock is still hard, and he presses the tip against the still twitching hole, sliding it over each movement.
"I'm, I'm not -" Shi Qingxuan's protests are cut off with a strangled moan as He Xuan slides in, bottoming out without time for reprieve. Shi Qingxuan's eyes are wide, his own cock pressed against his stomach and twitching traitorously as his oversensitive walls clench around hot, hard skin once more. His hands come up to clutch at the pillow, trying to anchor himself.
He Xuan slides his palms up those creamy thighs, hooking around the underside of Shi Qingxuan's knees and lifts those slender long legs over his shoulders. He starts a rough and fast pace that presses into Shi Qingxuan's prostate with every thrust, making him cry out from the overstimulation. Enormous hands cup Shi Qingxuan's face, bringing him in for another kiss. Intertwined like this, Shi Qingxuan could almost pretend they were lovers, that He Xuan wanted simply to be intimate.
Then those hands press onto the sides of his neck, and Shi Qingxuan gasps as he finds it becoming difficult to breathe.
"I could strangle you now," says He Xuan from above, matter-of-factly, not once pausing the rough pace of his hips. "Kill you while I fuck you." He says it as casually as one would comment on the movements of the ocean in his domain.
"Yes," he babbles. "Please, if you want it, do it, anything you want." As the air drains from him with each shuddering gasp, he jerks his hips up higher onto He Xuan's cock, tries to spread his thighs even wider to take it in deeper.
"Wonder how Shi Wudu would feel, to know that his little brother is desperately writhing under his murderer, getting off on being choked by the same hands that snapped his neck?" asks He Xuan. He presses his hands harder around the pale slender neck, and stares down Shi Qingxuan, whose eyes are losing focus. He Xuan leans forward, lips an inch from the other man's. "I wouldn't be able to rest in peace."
"I'm sorry," Shi Qingxuan gasps tearfully, eyelashes fluttering even as his pupils dilate further, his body shaking as it struggles for oxygen. "I’m sorry. For everything."
“Are you?” He Xuan’s voice is soft, emotionless.
He shouldn’t feel this good, getting choked by those enormous strong hands, and yet Shi Qingxuan cannot help but thrash in the grip. He remembers the crack of his brother’s neck, the relief that he himself was no longer at death’s door then the rising bile at seeing that still body, of Ming-xiong’s furious, shaking shoulders. Feelings that had filled every fibre of his being with horror, now dulled by burning rapture.
“Like it… when you... choke me,” slurs Shi Qingxuan, vision swimming. “Wanna... die in... your hands… please...”
The hard line in He Xuan’s brow softens and he draws back, letting go, and the oxygen floods into Shi Qingxuan's lungs as he gulps in breaths of air with shuddering gasps. The dopamine surge causes him to climax again with a full body tremor and a sob, eyes rolling back and jaw hanging slack. He can feel himself clench harder than usual around He Xuan, who grunts from how tight as a vise he is.
"Feelsh sho good," mumbles Shi Qingxuan, tongue heavy. The sensitive skin between his cheeks is mildly numb and he slumps against the sheets, overstimulated but relaxed.
With his hands, He Xuan pins Shi Qingxuan's wrists one on either side of his head. He rocks his hips into the form pinned under him again, hole sloppy and slack.
"No more," begs Shi Qingxuan. "It's too muchhh."
Only just realising that his legs are freed, Shi Qingxuan tries to wrap them around He Xuan's waist in an embrace, but he lets go of those thin fragile wrists and roughly pulls his legs off him, lifting them straight up into the air by the ankle and tilting them forward. Shi Qingxuan’s bottom lifts off the bed, his twitching cock flopping onto his sweat-slick belly, now dripping with his own pre.
"I'm going to fuck you to death," says He Xuan, not once stopping his movements, and Shi Qingxuan gasps, clenching down in excitement against his will. He shouldn't feel so good being threatened with this, now a real possibility now that he was so fragile, and yet he couldn't help the small jerks of his hips as he replayed He Xuan's threat in his mind. From this angle, he can see He Xuan’s thick, hard cock sliding easily into him. His entrance is red and wet with lube and cum as it twitches around it. Shi Qingxuan could hardly believe that this is his own body with the way it is now responding.
He Xuan folds Shi Qingxuan’s legs against his chest and uses his own body to pin him down.
Pressing one palm to Shi Qingxuan’s half-open mouth, he commands him. “Lick.”
He Xuan feels the wet tongue sloppily lap at the skin of his palm, drool trickling out from the corners of Shi Qingxuan’s lips. Pulling his hand away, He Xuan wraps his now slick hand around Shi Qingxuan’s soft cock, jerking his wrist up and down.
“Oh, oh,” stammers Shi Qingxuan. It feels too much, overwhelming pleasure running through his veins at the wet drag of He Xuan’s palm around his cock to the rhythm of his thrusts. He can’t even think of what to say to beg He Xuan to slow down.
“I… I can’t get it up anymore,” he says breathlessly, even as his cock is now half-hard in He Xuan’s grip. A thumb presses hard against the slit of his cock, and he jerks up from how painfully good it feels. “Please, please, I can’t come anymore, I really will die.”
“Then die,” says He Xuan, brows furrowed as he angles his hips up and snaps in.
“Wait, no, nonono,” babbles Shi Qingxuan, rutting into He Xuan’s hand despite himself. “I’m coming, I’m gonna come again…”
Shi Qingxuan shuts his eyes tightly, squirming as another orgasm thrums through him. His thighs pressed open by He Xuan’s waist, the weight of the heavy cock inside him, the slick hand rubbing his cock incessantly through climax: it’s a sensory overload.
He knows it’s not going to end.
He Xuan pulls out then scoops Shi Qingxuan up. He lets himself be arranged on He Xuan’s lap, hard, muscled front pressed against his back. Shi Qingxuan’s head lolls against a broad shoulder, exposing the plane of his pale neck, and his hips are lifted onto the hard cock that buries itself easily into him once more. Palms trail up against his burning sides and cup his chest, before tweaking his dusky nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through his torso.
Shi Qingxuan doesn’t resist, limbs weak as he is fucked into and teased, lets himself be used to slake He Xuan’s lust and fury.
It feels so unbelievably good.
Even as he feels like his brain is absolutely mush from the way he’s been edged and rutted into for hours, he wriggles his bottom into He Xuan’s lap, trying to shake his hips. Semen drips down the curve of his bottom, the rest pushed back into him, the wet slap of skin and cum lurid in his ears. He Xuan mouths down the side of Shi Qingxuan’s neck, licking and sucking, before biting down hard on the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. Shi Qingxuan gasps, arching his back from the pained pleasure, knowing it will bruise tomorrow in yellow-purple blotches. The other bites did, after all.
“That Green Lantern was right, you are a slut,” says He Xuan casually when he pulls away.
Shi Qingxuan thinks that he must be, to enjoy riding a killer’s cock like this, being humiliated in a low baritone by one of the most dangerous ghosts in the realms.
Fingers pinch harder on his pert nipples, and he turns his head, lips seeking He Xuan’s.
He Xuan indulges him, kisses him again. It’s less a kiss and more tongues wetly sliding against each other, and Shi Qingxuan moans from how intimate it feels.
This time, when Shi Qingxuan comes, pleasure wracking his body, he slumps against He Xuan, passing out. Even as he slides into unconsciousness he notes that the movement of He Xuan’s cock does not stop.
Darkness is a welcome relief of sorts. Unable to feel or think of anything, just quiet sleep.
Shi Qingxuan rouses briefly, feeling soft kisses along his cheekbones and jawline and forehead and then they stop, and the darkness claims him once more.
The next time he awakes, it’s to the slick sound of skin, and he realises his bearings. He Xuan’s cock is still buried in him, wetly spearing him open. He feels his hair being tugged, scalp prickling.
He Xuan hasn’t stopped and refuses to, even as Shi Qingxuan blacks out and comes to, over and over.
At this rate, I really will die, thinks Shi Qingxuan, calmer than he would if he was fully conscious.
Sometimes he’s pressed against He Xuan, chest to chest, his own twitching cock rubbing against hard abs, mouth open and begging for kisses. Sometimes he has one cheek pressed to the pillow or sweat-soaked sheets as he’s taken from behind. Sometimes he feels himself shudder and twitch around He Xuan’s cock, feels his rim fluttering uselessly. He feels wet and sticky where his body is joined with He Xuan’s, his hole an absolute mess of cum. His body is constantly tired but aroused, pleasure engulfing him over and over. Shi Qingxuan hears the occasional grunt and snatches of He Xuan’s dirty talk, feels fingers digging into his skin, but he hardly is aware of what time when happens or the order of things, only disjointed frames of sensation marked vaguely chronologically by his dry orgasms and the wet rush of another one of He Xuan’s releases.
And then, he vaguely notes that He Xuan is picking him up, walking to another room, the cool touch of water and a wet cloth wiping him up, of fingers scooping inside him. He remembers himself being dried off by a towel, set on dry sheets. And he remembers arms and legs wrapping around him, cradling him to He Xuan’s chest.
A hand brushes hair that sticks to his forehead and then a kiss is pressed to his sweaty skin, so tender it feels foreign, a calloused thumb coming up to brush against his cheekbone.
“I hate you…”
I know, Ming-xiong… I’m sorry...
“So why…?”
So why what, Ming-xiong? Shi Qingxuan wants to ask. But he can’t will his lips to form the words, exhausted from their activities.
Sleep takes him once more, and he dreams.
He dreams of a happier world, where He Xuan can embrace him without resentment in his heart.