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'The first thing Mu Qing felt was pressure.
Everywhere. Against his lips, his throat, his thighs,heat curling around him like shackles.

“Hnn… wait..”

His voice broke on the word. He didn’t sound like himself. Didn’t even sound like a god. More like prey trying to bargain with the predator’s jaws already around its neck.

But there was no time to resist.

Feng Xin’s hands were everywhere,
large, calloused, possessive. One gripped his chin, forcing his head back until his throat was bared like an offering. The other palmed between his legs with humiliating ease.

“Look at you,” came that low, rough voice. “You’re soaked.”

Mu Qing tried to deny it, but his own body betrayed him. His hips twitched up, seeking more friction, and a pathetic sound spilled out before he could bite it down.

Feng Xin laughed, warm and cruel all at once.

“All I did was touch you, and you’re already falling apart?”

Then teeth. Sharp and merciless, dragging along his jaw, nipping his earlobe. Mu Qing shivered violently, a whine catching in his throat.

The hand at his throat tightened,not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him who was in control. Mu Qing’s breath stuttered, his lips parting in a shaky gasp.

“I’m not-ah-I’m not-”

“Not what?” Feng Xin’s voice was low, dangerous. Amused. “Not hard? Not aching for it? Then why are you dripping like this?”

Fingers brushed over his cock, featherlight at first, then suddenly gripping him firm, stroking once,
slow, deliberate. Mu Qing’s entire body jolted, and he made a sound he didn’t recognize as his own.

“Please..”

“Please what? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

The hand moved faster, rougher now. Slick sounds filled the room. Mu Qing’s back arched, his hands clawing at the sheets that weren’t there. Every muscle in his body felt wound tight, like a bowstring about to snap.

“F-Feng Xin, I-”

“You’ll take it.” The voice was closer now, hot breath ghosting against his ear. “You’ll take all of me and say thank you.”

Something blunt and burning pressed against his hole. Mu Qing’s breath hitched, panic and heat warring in his chest.

“No-wait-”

But his hips betrayed him, rolling back instinctively as the head of Feng Xin’s cock pushed in, stretching him open in a single brutal stroke. Mu Qing’s mouth fell open in a silent cry, his eyes squeezing shut as pleasure lanced through him like lightning.

"So fucking tight,” Feng Xin growled, his voice guttural now. “Like you were made for this.”

Each thrust was deep, unrelenting, driving Mu Qing forward on hands and knees. The slap of skin against skin echoed like a drumbeat. He tried to form words,protests, curses, anything,but all that came out were broken sobs and ragged moans.

His cock rubbed against the sheets beneath him, slick and aching. Every nerve in his body felt raw, too much, too good.

“Say my name."

“F-Feng Xin-”

“Louder.”

“FENG XIN-!”

The world tilted, his vision blurring white as he felt himself coming apart, every muscle tensing, toes curling.'

And then-

Mu Qing jerked awake with a strangled noise, his body snapping upright like a bow released.

His chest heaved, lungs dragging in air too thick, too warm. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, and his robes clung damply to his flushed skin.

And between his legs…

“Gods…”

His cock throbbed angrily, sticky wetness already staining the thin fabric of his underclothes.

Shame scorched through him like wildfire.

He couldn’t even bring himself to move at first. Just sat there in the dark, fists clenched in the sheets, staring at the wall as though it had witnessed his humiliation.

“This… This is diseased behavior.”

His pulse refused to settle. His thighs pressed together, seeking friction even now.

He groaned into his hands.

“Get a grip, Mu Qing. You’re not some horny mortal boy in heat-”

But his body didn’t seem to care about his dignity.

Mu Qing sat there for a long moment, fists trembling in his lap.

The images wouldn’t stop replaying.
Feng Xin’s hands.
That voice, low and mocking.
The way it felt when he…

Mu Qing smacked both palms over his burning face and let out a strangled hiss.

“Stop. Thinking. About. It.”

But his body was a traitor. Even now his cock was still hard,aching painfully, twitching in his ruined underclothes.

“This isn’t my fault. It’s Feng Xin’s fault. Walking around all… brawny. All earnest. All-”

He bit his lip hard enough to sting.

“...all damn stupid with those fucking muscles and…argh.”

His thighs rubbed together again, the friction almost enough to make him gasp. Almost.

Mu Qing glared down at his own lap like it had betrayed him personally.

“Fine. Five minutes. Just to… get it out of my system.”

With shaking fingers, he untied his sash and shoved his underclothes down enough to free himself. His cock slapped against his stomach, flushed dark and glistening.

Gods.

One tentative stroke had his hips jerk helplessly. He bit down on the inside of his wrist to muffle a noise.

Just imagining it’s his hand. Rough all over him made him whine
He’d probably hold him down.
of course he would, the brute.

His free hand clawed into the sheets as he stroked faster, hips bucking into his own palm.

He’d probably say how tight he was
He’d say how pathetic he was dripping so much just from his touch ,And I’d hate him for it ofcourse, but how he would slowly lower his finger to find his entrance and slap it into him.

His toes curled. The wet slap of his fist echoed in the silent room, and Mu Qing squeezed his eyes shut, surrendering to the fantasy.

“F-Feng Xin…” he whispered hoarsely. “I-”

The thought of begging nearly pushed him over the edge. He groaned, bucking up hard as the first wave of release hit him. His seed spilled hot over his fingers and stomach in thick pulses, and he collapsed backward with a muffled whimper.

For a moment all he could do was lie there, chest heaving, his body shivering as the last tremors rolled through him.

“Disgraceful,” he muttered weakly. “Absolutely… disgraceful.”

But even as he cleaned himself with shaking hands, he felt no relief. The heat in his gut refused to fade.

“If anything I’m worse now.”

That dream. Those hands. That voice…

Mu Qing clutched at his hair, tugging in frustration.

“I can’t keep doing this. I need…” he shook his head “ I need to do something about this.”

A couple more nights of dreams and a few days of research ( which was going undercover on earth to find….materials) later;
Mu Qing sat cross-legged on the floor, his hair loose and wild, sleeves rolled back like a scholar about to decipher ancient war stratagems.

Except instead of maps or scrolls of statecraft, he was surrounded by...

“An Introduction to Celestial Seduction (Beginner’s Edition)”
“The Nine Pleasures Sutra”
“How to Make a God Lose His Mind in Three Easy Steps”
“Temptation Techniques of the Plum Blossom Courtesans (Unabridged)”

Each title made him want to crawl into the dirt and never come out again.

“This isn’t for pleasure,” Mu Qing muttered, flipping another scroll open with a snap. “This is research. Tactical preparation. Warfare of the flesh.”

His eyes darted over calligraphy that made his ears burn: ‘Technique One: The Willow Bends,A slow, deliberate arching of the back, inviting the touch of,’

Mu Qing slapped the scroll shut so hard it puffed dust into his face.

“Gods. What’s wrong with me?!”

He collapsed backward with a strangled groan, one arm thrown over his flushed face.

“I was a dignified man once. An honourable cultivator Now I’m practicing how to arch my back like some brothel apprentice..”

He shot up suddenly, clutching his robe like a man possessed.

“No. No. I’m doing this for strategy. Feng Xin won’t even know what hit him.”

Looked at the scroll once again.

In the mirror, Mu Qing posed stiffly, a faint scowl on his face as he tried to recreate one of the scroll’s diagrams.

“Chest forward. Chin down. Eyes soft. Lips…lips slightly parted…”

He parted them.

“I look constipated.”

He tried again, letting his robe slip off one shoulder in what was clearly meant to be a casual, seductive gesture. Instead it caught awkwardly on his elbow.

He flailed.

“Stupid sleeve..stupid robe…stupid me…”

When he finally managed to hold the pose, he gave his reflection a withering glare.

“Pathetic.”

But then his mind betrayed him again.

He imagined Feng Xin walking in, catching him like this…half-dressed, flushed, shameful. That broad hand cupping his jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“You are practicing for me, Mu Qing? You think you need these tricks?”
“I-I’m not-”
“Shut up.”

His cock twitched.

Mu Qing slapped both hands over his face and screamed into them.

“I think I'm going to stab myself with a dagger”

Mu Qing slapped his forehead and banged his head on the table multiple times.

He was tired

“I should probably fucking sleep”

He sprawled over his bedding with a scroll still open beside him.

“Legs are ought to be opened to their full capacity and held behind one's neck whilst the other slowly pushes his member inside”

Oh.. 

'This i s Feng Xin's favourite.'

Or so he thought.

He kept dreaming about this very position and Feng Xin going absolutely crazy.

Since the only he really did ram into him was when he fucked him over the table.

Oh…the table…

he cursed himself as his hand slipped lower again.

“Just…one more time. Then I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

But his mind was already treacherous, conjuring images of being bent over Feng Xin’s lap, scolded and fucked stupid, the other’s deep voice growling praise and insults alike.

“General Xuan Zhen touching himself to the thought me…what happened to your dignity…did my cock make you a whore ? ”

His hips bucked, a sob catching in his throat as heat coiled tight in his gut.

“Fuck…”

Release hit him like a wave, leaving him limp and shivering. His body felt boneless, his pride completely annihilated.

“This… This is war crime behavior,” he muttered to no one. “I am officially a war crime.”

The next morning, robe hastily cleaned and hair combed into shaky perfection, Mu Qing tried to sneak to the library for more “tactical research”.

'If I just avoid him for a few days, I can recover my dignity. He won’t suspect a thing-'

“Mu Qing.”

Mu Qing froze mid-step, back going ramrod straight.

There stood Feng Xin at the end of the hall, broad arms folded, golden eyes sharp and slightly confused.

“Where have you been? I’ve sent for you twice already.”

Oh gods. Oh no. No no no.

Mu Qing’s knees almost buckled.

‘He knows. He knows. He’s seen into my wretched soul’

“I-I was meditating,” Mu Qing lied. His voice came out high and tight. “To…um….strengthen my cultivation.”

Feng Xin frowned.

“You’re pale. Are you sick?”

‘No, just terminally horny for you. ’

“I-I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

Abort mission. ABORT.

“You know what?” Mu Qing let out “fuck you actually that's none of your business you useless selfish piece shit.”
Mu Qing spun on his heel and walked briskly away.

“Sorry for caring?” Feng Xin sounded sarcastic and kind of annoyed

“Fuck off” Mu Qing shouted

“Mu Qing. I wasn’t finished-”

“I REMEMBERED SOMETHING IMPORTANT,” Mu Qing called back over his shoulder without turning around.
“BECAUSE UNLIKE YOU I HAVE LIFE”

Yep, that went smoothly.
Feng Xin wasn't following him. Nor was he gonna question it.

For days, this became his life:

Avoid meetings.

Practice seduction in secret.

Masturbate furiously while cursing Feng Xin’s name.

Fail to make eye contact when forced into the same room.

Every time Feng Xin tried to speak with him, Mu Qing found a convenient reason to flee.

“Mu Qing-”

“CAN’T TALK. DEVIL’S CULTIVATION TO CLEANSE.”

But feng xin was just so goddamned hard to avoid.

Like he was literally EVERYWHERE. And he was half naked just training and running.

And he would carry himself like he was going to seduce all of the martial gods into his bed.

And he could if he wanted to actually.

His sun kissed skin , his brown hair…his broad shoulders and perfect muscles and yet he settled for a prostitute as if he hasn't got a brain.

He kept avoiding Feng Xin like a ghost avoiding sunlight.

He muttered prayers of “discipline” while bent over scrolls describing positions with names like The Phoenix Arching Over Lotus Flames.

He screamed into his sleeves after every failed attempt at seduction practice.

But it wasn't like he could ALWAYS flee
Today out of all days for example he had to fucking be at the hallway where he was supposed to meet with LingWen
He tried to rush off but Feng Xin already saw him
“Mu Qing.”
A low call from behind. Like a predator scenting weakness.

Mu Qing’s shoulder twitched violently.

‘Not today. Not now. Not when my back still ache from last night’s treachery.’

He whirled on Feng Xin with the barely contained energy of a cornered animal.

“WHAT. Do you want, you lumbering ox?”

Feng Xin blinked. Then frowned. “To speak about your last report. Why are you…”

“WHY am I? Why am I?” Mu Qing’s voice cracked as he pointed a shaking finger. “Why don’t YOU go fornicate with a demon lord and stop breathing near me, General Golden-Pants?”

Feng Xin’s brows furrowed like a thundercloud. “What the hell is your problem lately? You’re twitchier than a mortal in heat..”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Mu Qing shrieked, his face as red as a tomato “I am a cultivator of dignity!”

“Oh, is that what you call sulking in the shadows and running every time I approach? Sounds like guilt to me.”

“GUILT?!” Mu Qing nearly had a qi deviation“I am…You..” He made a strangled noise, spun on his heel, and shouted over his shoulder:
“I HAVE AN IMPORTANT PILLOW TO MEDITATE INTO. LEAVE ME BE.”

Feng Xin raised one golden brow, utterly unmoved. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week. We need to discuss your last campaign proposal. Or are you too busy…” His gaze narrowed. “…hiding?”

“HIDING?!” Mu Qing clutched at his robes like an outraged maiden in a moral play. “Why would I hide from you, General Chest-Broad-But-Brain-Small?!”

Feng Xin folded his arms. “You tell me. You’re the one who flees every time I enter a room. Like a guilty lover caught in the act.”

Mu Qing sputtered so hard he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“I…You- HOW DARE-”
His face burned crimson. “You think far too highly of yourself, Feng Xin. As if I...HAH…would ever…ever…”

He stopped.
Oh gods, don’t think about the dream. Don’t think about his hand pinning your throat while you-

His voice cracked. “...ever desire your…ungainly, ox-like self!”

“Ungainly?” Feng Xin’s lips twitched, just slightly. “That’s not what you said the last time we-”

“SHUT UP!” Mu Qing shrieked, throwing his scroll at him. Feng Xin caught it effortlessly, infuriatingly calm.

“You’re insane,” Mu Qing spat, jabbing a finger at his chest. “This is harassment. Cease following me like some celestial hound in heat.”

“Funny. You’re the one radiating heat right now,” Feng Xin said flatly.

“Oh…ohhhh. So now I’m a joke to you?” Mu Qing’s voice broke with indignant fury. “The great General Ju Yang, hero of ten provinces, has nothing better to do than mock ME?”

“Actually,” Feng Xin said mildly, “mocking you is one of the few pleasures left in this hellhole of a court.”

Mu Qing gasped like a scandalized concubine. “PLEASURES LEFT? Is that why you prowl my halls at night, hm? Seeking…pleasure?”

Feng Xin’s eyes narrowed.
“Mu Qing. Do you even hear yourself? You’re babbling.”

“I AM NOT BABBLING!” Mu Qing shouted. “I am articulating, with the grace of a seasoned orator, how I wish you would choke on your own sanctimonious breath and LEAVE ME IN PEACE.”

A young attendant carrying tea froze in the hallway, eyes wide. Mu Qing shot him a glare so lethal he bolted like a rabbit.

The jade halls rang with Mu Qing’s voice, high and sharp enough to make the lanterns tremble on their hooks.

“Choke on your sanctimonious breath, Feng Xin! Choke on it and ascend sideways like the ridiculous, overblown martial monument you are!”

Feng Xin’s expression remained infuriatingly calm, but his golden eyes glinted like sunlight on drawn steel.
“I think you’re projecting.”

“PROJECTING?!” Mu Qing’s voice cracked like an over-tuned zither string. “I am a man of discipline. Restraint. A pillar of-”

“A pillar of denial, maybe,” Feng Xin interrupted smoothly. “You’ve been skittish and flushed for days. Should I ask what exactly you’re restraining?”

Mu Qing made a sound like a boiling kettle. His hands fluttered uselessly before clamping into fists at his sides.

“You presumptuous…You…you arrogant oaf!” He jabbed Feng Xin’s chest with a trembling finger. “Don’t think I don’t see it. Your smugness. Your endless parade of muscles and… and…” His gaze flicked down for half a second before snapping back up in horror.
“…and your stupid, golden… everything!”

Feng Xin’s lips curled slightly. “Ah. So it is my body distracting you.”

Mu Qing inhaled so sharply he nearly choked on his own spit.

“Distracting?! HAH! The only thing distracting here is your gargantuan ego, Feng Xin!” He flung his arms dramatically. “You think every twitch of my robes is about you?! That every breath I take…”

“...sounds like my name,” Feng Xin murmured.

Mu Qing froze mid-gesture. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Wh… wha-”

“You moan it in your sleep, you know.” Feng Xin’s voice had dropped to a low rumble, silk wrapping steel. “Loudly. Repeatedly. I heard it three nights ago passing your chamber.”

Mu Qing’s entire body combusted.

“I…THAT…YOU..THREE NIGHTS AGO?!”
He slapped both hands over his face and let out a noise somewhere between a shriek and a sob. “THIS IS SLANDER. CELESTIAL SLANDER.”

“It’s a miracle the servants didn’t hear.” Feng Xin stepped closer, his shadow falling across Mu Qing like a stormcloud. “Or maybe they did.”

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Mu Qing screamed, his voice echoing like a banshee through the heavenly corridors.

“General, please-” a terrified junior cultivator poked his head out from behind a pillar.

“WHAT?!” Mu Qing snapped, whirling on him with all the fury of a cornered phoenix.

The poor boy yelped and vanished like a soap bubble.

Feng Xin sighed and rubbed his temples, but a faint smirk betrayed him.

“Are you done embarrassing yourself in public?” he asked gently, like one would address a feral cat.

Mu Qing’s eyes glistened with rage (and possibly unshed tears).
“you lying…IMBECILE PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH YOU…” he paused for a breath

“I am DONE….done with YOU!” he declared, stabbing the air with a trembling finger. “Done with your smug face, your endless condescension, and your stupid, broad shoulders I could die under-I MEAN CRUSH UNDER. CRUSH.”

The slip hung in the air like a suspended sword.

Feng Xin’s brow arched. “Ah. So we’re back to that.”

Mu Qing shrieked again, grabbed the nearest decorative vase, and hurled it.

Feng Xin caught it effortlessly, as if intercepting projectiles from furious, repressed beauties was part of his divine training.

“Careful,” he said lightly. “You’re going to work yourself into a state again.”

“I’M LEAVING,” Mu Qing screamed. “I AM LEAVING TO MEDITATE ON THE ERROR OF YOUR EXISTENCE.”

He stormed away, robes flaring like battle flags.

Feng Xin called after him, unhurried. “Meditate all you want, Mu Qing. But when you’re ready to discuss your… strategies, I’ll be here.”

“DIE!” Mu Qing’s distant voice echoed furiously down the corridor. “DIE A GLORIOUSLY INCONVENIENT DEATH, GENERAL GOLDEN-PANTS.”

A few days of excruciating shame had passed , since Mu Qing’s voice had rattled the eaves of the Jade Hall and sent junior attendants fleeing like sparrows.

But today… Today he had to face them.

The meeting was already in session when Mu Qing slipped inside, expression polished into serenity so fragile it might shatter if anyone so much as breathe too loudly.

The Jade Hall’s lacquered pillars stretched endlessly upwards, white jade inlaid with gold. Gods lounged on brocaded cushions, their eyes like cold stars, voices murmuring over one another. But Mu Qing felt every pair of them dragging across his skin as he took his seat.

Whispers trailed after him like a cursed veil:

“Lord Xuan Zhen’s face is still flushed. Shame or rage?”
“I heard he threw a vase. At General Nan Yang.”
“And Nan Yang caught it without blinking. How strong and perfect.”

Mu Qing kept his spine straight as a spear and focused on not combusting where he sat.

And then Feng Xin…Nan fucking Yang, ever golden, ever infuriating…strode into the hall with the easy confidence of a war god unaware of his own gravitational pull.

When their gazes met across the council floor, Mu Qing’s jaw went taut. Feng Xin… smirked.

Mu Qing’s left eye twitched. He very nearly fled then and there.

The Heavenly Emperor’s voice echoed.
“ Xuan Zhen.” He paused “regarding the situation in West Heaven…you had reservations about the logistics of last week’s offensive?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Mu Qing said tightly, forcing calm into his tone. He unrolled a scroll, hands steady by sheer will. “There was an oversight in the supply chain projections. I have corrected it here…”

“An oversight?” one of the martial gods cut in, his voice sharp as a blade. “Again? Lord Xuan Zhen, how many errors must we suffer before-”

The words barely left his mouth when Feng Xin’s voice rumbled across the chamber:

“General Xuan Zhen’s assessments are rarely in error.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that weighs heavy enough to bow marble floors.

Feng Xin leaned back lazily on his cushion, arms folded over his broad chest. “And even when there is one, he’s always the first to correct it. At least he doesn’t march half-prepared and call it strategy, like some here.”

A few gods choked on their tea.

Mu Qing’s quill snapped in his hand. His ears burned crimson.

“General Nan Yang…” Pei Ming’s voice drawled across the room like warm honey. His lips curled into a grin sharp enough to cut glass. “How unexpectedly… gallant. Defending Lord Xuan Zhen with such fervor. It reminds me of His Highness the Crown Prince and Crimson Rain Sought Flower. But then again…” Pei Ming’s grin widened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “...who am I to judge?”

A few junior gods coughed violently. One squeaked, “Are we witnessing history?”

Mu Qing was already standing. “I- I must take my leave,” he choked out, his voice high and strained. “Urgent cultivation matters.”

And with a whirl of his robes, he fled the Jade Hall like a fox escaping hounds.

Behind him, murmurs broke like waves.

“Did Nan Yang just defend Xuan Zhen?”
“Is this… is this the end of the world?”
“Should we prepare offerings?”

Mu Qing barely made it two corridors before Feng Xin’s voice rang out.

“Mu Qing. Wait.”

He froze.

Feng Xin caught up in three long strides. He reached out but thought better of it, letting his hand drop.

“Look, about the council…” Feng Xin’s tone was low, almost careful. “I didn’t mean to… overstep. I know you don’t need me speaking for you.”

Mu Qing’s ears turned scarlet. His breath came shallow and fast.

“I- no…you..” His fingers clutched his sleeves tight enough to wrinkle the silk. “Stop… talking.”

Feng Xin frowned. “I only meant-”

“You’ve done enough!” Mu Qing burst out, voice cracking. “Do you think I needed rescuing in there? That I’m some… some delicate flower to be shielded from the wind?”

“Of course not-”

“THEN WHY?!” Mu Qing’s voice broke again. “Why would you-”

Feng Xin opened his mouth, hesitated. “Because I… I didn’t like them talking down to you.”

Mu Qing made a strangled sound-not quite a sob, not quite a laugh. His entire face burned red as molten copper.

“I- You…Shut up!”

And before Feng Xin could reply, Mu Qing spun on his heel and bolted, leaving nothing but the scent of cold jasmine and his own mortification in his wake.

Feng Xin stood alone in the corridor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well,” he muttered, watching Mu Qing’s fleeing figure vanish around a corner. “I fucked that up.”

The strategy was working well.

Avoid feng xin at all costs …even in dreams
He practiced a lot.
If he was to see him he'd wake up

That was until a note arrived

Straight to the point

'We need to talk .tonight'

Mu Qing sat bolt upright in bed, hair a disheveled halo, his heart pounding like war drums.

“This…is nothing.” He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his racing pulse. “It’s just a meeting. With him. Nothing more.”

But his mind, a treacherous thing, replayed Feng Xin’s faint smirk from the last council…sharp as a blade, warm as sunlight.

Mu Qing clutched his pillow to his face and screamed into it.

Two attendants were dispatched to prepare the bath, but Mu Qing waved them off.
“This requires solitude. Strategy.”

He stripped with military precision, robes pooling around his feet, and stepped into the steaming water.

“This isn’t for him,” he muttered, scrubbing his chest with a rough cloth. “This is hygiene. Dignity. Routine maintenance for a god of my stature.”

But as his hands lingered over his collarbones…long fingers tracing delicate dips and ridges..his mind betrayed him again.

‘Feng Xin’s hands are bigger than mine… he could cup my whole throat, push me under’

Mu Qing slipped under the water with a strangled hiss, resurfacing a second later, sputtering and bright red.

“GODS ABOVE. Focus, Mu Qing. Focus.”

He reached for a carved jade bottle of floral oil, tipping a generous amount into his palm. It slicked his skin as he massaged it in, his fingers working over tense shoulders, down his chest, and..

“THIS IS TACTICAL!” he yelled suddenly at his reflection in the rippling water.”

His reflection didn’t look convinced.

Two hours later, Mu Qing was back in his chambers, sitting cross-legged before a lacquered mirror.

He combed his hair with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Shiny. Controlled. Seductive, but not desperate. No. Dignified.”

A lock fell perfectly over his shoulder. He tilted his head, practiced narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.
“Yes. That’s the look of a man in complete control.”

Another voice in his head whispered: That’s also the look of a man who spent all night practicing ‘The Willow Bends’ pose in secret, but sure.

Mu Qing hurled the comb across the room.

He threw open his wardrobe doors.

“Regal black? No…too severe. Plum blossom silk? Too suggestive. White?” He snorted. “What am I, a virginal acolyte?”

Piece after piece was tossed onto the bed. He stood in his under robes, glaring at the pile as if it personally insulted him.

Finally, he settled on deep sapphire robes embroidered with silver cranes…formal enough for a meeting, subtle enough to catch a certain war god’s eye.

He adjusted the sash. And adjusted it again. And again.

“This isn’t for him. This is armor.”

But even as he told himself that, he let the neckline loosen..just slightly. Enough for a hint of pale collarbone to peek through.

“Strategic exposure,” he muttered. “Just in case I need to…distract him.”

Mu Qing entered the side hall like a man stepping onto a battlefield.

He had rehearsed every detail: the tilt of his head, the languid swish of his sleeve, the faintly parted lips that suggested effortless allure.

When he spotted Feng Xin already waiting

broad-shouldered, golden-eyed, radiating quiet power
Mu Qing’s carefully lacquered composure cracked for a heartbeat.

‘What the fuck am I doing’

Oh gods, he’s even bigger up close. Calm. Dignity. Warfare of the flesh, remember?

He sauntered forward with studied grace.
“Feng Xin” His voice came out low, smooth. “We meet again.”

Feng Xin looked up from a scroll and gestured to the seat across from him. “Mu Qing. Sit.”

That was it.
No smirk. No comment. Not even a flicker of awareness for the faint sheen of oil on My Qing's collarbone catching the candlelight.

Mu Qing sat anyway, folding his legs like a seductress preparing to pounce. Patience, he told himself. Seduction is an art of attrition.

This was happening

Feng Xin leaned in and frowned , he knuckles turning white from pressing his hand to tight

Mu Qing almost jumped up in celebration

It was a matter seconds before he would crack and…

“About the last council meeting…”
Feng Xin’s voice cut through his fantasies

“ I may have overstepped. I shouldn’t have spoken for you without asking.”

Mu Qing blinked. He’s…apologizing?

The moment should have been satisfying. Instead, he felt… off-balance.
“That’s… unexpected,” he said carefully. “But I suppose your crude sense of loyalty was admirable.”

“Mm.” Feng Xin’s brow furrowed as he reached for another document. “It won’t happen again.”

Mu Qing leaned forward, one elbow propped on the table, voice dropping to a purr.
“We could…discuss how to better coordinate in the future. I’m very good at… offering support.”

Feng Xin hummed distractedly, flipping through papers. “Support in logistics, yes. The mortal troops need a new grain route through the southern provinces. Here, look at this.”

Mu Qing felt his eye twitch. Grain? He’s talking about grain?

He trailed his foot under the table, letting it brush against Feng Xin’s boot. Nothing.

So he upped the stakes.
His slipper slipped off, toes gliding up a strong calf, higher still, until…

His foot pressed against the hard line of Feng Xin’s thigh.

Still nothing.

Feng Xin only said, “If we divert the shipments here, we can avoid demon raids.” He tapped the map, completely oblivious to Mu Qing's naked foot resting dangerously near his crotch.

Mu Qing bit back a growl. He pressed firmer, his toes brushing…ah…right over that bulge. Finally,

But Feng Xin shifted only slightly, to adjust the scroll.
“Do you agree, Mu Qing?”

Mu Qing blinked. “Agree… with…?”

“With rerouting supply lines. You’re unusually quiet.”

“I- I’m contemplating deeply.” Mu Qing tried to sound sultry, but it came out strangled.

“Good. I value your input. You’re sharp where others aren’t.”

Mu Qing’s brain short-circuited. Was that praise? Did Feng Xin just…

Keep it together. He’s complimenting your mind, not your ability to deepthroat him like a desperate concubine.

He pushed harder with his foot. Still no reaction.

Finally, Feng Xin looked up, brow furrowing slightly.
“Why are you fidgeting? Are you cold?”

Mu Qing almost screamed.

His fingers curled on the table edge so tightly his knuckles blanched. He’s playing dumb. He must be. No man alive can resist this level of refined provocation.

He let out a soft sigh,
meant to sound breathy and alluring. Instead it came out like a strangled wheeze.
“Feng Xin…” He drew out the name like silk unwinding. “You seem… tense. Perhaps I can help you unwind?”

Feng Xin barely looked up. “I’m fine. Focus here-
if we adjust the border garrisons, we can prevent demon incursions.”

Mu Qing’s toes flexed against the hard heat beneath Feng Xin’s robes. This is it. He’s cracking. Any second now…

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin said slowly, golden eyes lifting, sharp and direct.

Mu Qing froze.
“Yes?” he purred.

“Can you stop squirming? It’s distracting.”

Mu Qing’s soul left his body.
“…Distracting?” he echoed weakly.

“Yes. The chair creaks every time you shift.”

“I-” Mu Qing swallowed. “I was simply adjusting. Do continue… General.” He let the title roll off his tongue like a lover’s whisper.

“Right.” Feng Xin returned his attention to the map, utterly unbothered.
“If we use the western trade routes, we can cut supply delays by half. Ling Wen will need updated projections.”

Mu Qing wanted to scream. His foot was literally pressed to the man’s cock. Does this man not feel it? Or worse… does he feel nothing for me?

A drop of sweat rolled down Mu Qing’s temple.
“Your dedication to logistics is… impressive.”

“Thanks.” Feng Xin nodded absently, scribbling a note. “You’re flushed. Sure you’re not feverish?”

Mu Qing’s dignity began hemorrhaging in real time.
“I’m… hot.” He said it with a loaded look.

“Open a window?” Feng Xin offered, dead serious.

Mu Qing’s entire soul let out a soundless shriek.

At last, Feng Xin straightened, rolling up the map.
“Thanks for the insights, Mu Qing. You’ve been helpful. I’ll report to Ling Wen and finalize this with His Majesty.”

Mu Qing’s lip trembled. Helpful. He called me helpful. Like a fucking administrator’s assistant.

Feng Xin gave a short nod.
“Rest well. You look tired.”

Mu Qing stared at him in stunned silence as he walked out, robes swishing with maddening composure.

The door clicked shut.

Mu Qing sat frozen for a full minute. Then:
“That… that clueless ox…”

His face went crimson as his cock throbbed painfully in his robes.

“You and your stupid… giant hands… your voice… your fucking grain routes…”

His hand slipped into his robes before he even realized it.
“This is your fault,” he muttered, stroking himself hard and fast.
“Your fault for looking at me like I’m made of air… fuck-”

His hips bucked into his palm as images swam in his mind,
broad hands pinning his wrists, that deep voice growling in his ear:

“You want my attention? Then take it.”

Mu Qing bit his lip hard, muffling a sob as heat coiled tight in his belly.
“Feng Xin… you bastard…”

Mu Qing’s breaths came in short, frantic gasps. His palm was slick now, moving in desperate, erratic strokes.
“F-Feng Xin…Fuck” he hissed through gritted teeth, his hips jerking helplessly.

Every image of him,the golden light in his hair, the solid weight of his chest under armor, the deep rumble of his voice saying his name like it was both a curse and a pleade,
slammed into Mu Qing’s mind in vivid succession.

“You… you’re so fucking,unbearable,” Mu Qing panted, thumb rubbing over his slit until his thighs trembled. “Always looking…so damn perfect…like you’re carved from heaven’s stones…ah…”

His head tipped back, hair sticking to the sweat at his temples.
“Do you know what you do to me? Do you even care?”

He bit down on his knuckles, trying to silence the small, broken moans tearing out of his throat.
“Would you laugh…if you saw me like this? Touching myself like a wretched disciple…”

His other hand clutched at the edge of the table for leverage as he rutted into his fist, shame and arousal burning through him like wildfire.

“Feng Xin…” His voice was little more than a whimper now. “You stupid…stupid ox…make me cum…fuck…make me…”

The door swung open with a loud creak.

“Mu Qing?”

Mu Qing froze mid-stroke, horror ripping through his body like lightning.

Standing in the doorway was Feng Xin, golden eyes widening at the sight of him: robes disheveled, chest heaving, flushed and sweating, one hand still wrapped around his hard, leaking cock.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Mu Qing’s brain flatlined.

“Are you-” Feng Xin blinked, taking a cautious step inside. “Were you… touching yourself?”

Mu Qing’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.

“NO!!” His voice cracked so hard it could shatter glass.

Feng Xin’s brows furrowed.
“Then… What were you doing? You’re clearly—” His gaze dropped to the furious erection still straining in Mu Qing’s hand. “…occupied.”

“I WAS…I MEAN IT’S NOT-!!” Mu Qing choked on his own words, face blazing scarlet.

“…Were you doing that because of me?” Feng Xin’s tone was unreadable, but his head tilted slightly like he was genuinely trying to puzzle it out.

Mu Qing’s soul threatened to leave his body entirely.
“I-
NO!
YOU-
WHY WOULD YOU!”

“You were moaning my name just now,” Feng Xin said plainly.

Mu Qing covered his face with both hands, wishing for a bolt of heavenly lightning to strike him down on the spot.
“YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT.”

“But I did.” Feng Xin’s voice was calm. Too calm. “You were thinking about me. While… doing that.”

“STOP SAYING IT!” Mu Qing wailed, curling in on himself like a wounded animal.

“Wait.” Feng Xin blinked, his brows drawing together. “Was all that before…when you kept… fidgeting under the table
…was that also you trying to…?”

“STOP!” Mu Qing’s scream cracked in the middle.

“Trying to seduce me?” Feng Xin asked blankly.

“FOR THE LOVE OF THE HEAVENS JUST KILL ME!”

Feng Xin stepped closer, and Mu Qing nearly combusted from sheer embarrassment.
“You could’ve said something, Mu Qing,” he said softly. “You didn’t need to… do all this.”

“GET OUT.” Mu Qing tried to scramble away, but his knees were still trembling.

“You really were desperate, weren’t you?” Feng Xin murmured, and his voice had taken on a new weight…lower, rougher.

Mu Qing peeked through his fingers, breath hitching.
“What…?”

“You wanted me to see you like this.”

“No!!!I didn’t!!!”

“Then why didn’t you stop when I walked in?”

Mu Qing realized, to his horror, that he was still achingly hard, his cock twitching pathetically against his palm.

Feng Xin was in front of him now, the door clicking shut behind like the toll of a death bell. His towering frame blocked out the candlelight, casting Mu Qing in shadow.

The war god’s voice was deceptively calm, but it carried a weight that made Mu Qing’s blood turn to ice.
“You’re already hard. Finish what you started.”

Mu Qing’s eyes widened, his hand frozen halfway down his slick, aching length. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” Feng Xin’s golden gaze pinned him like a butterfly on a spear. “You had no problem touching yourself when you thought you were alone. Don’t stop now.”

“I-I can’t…” Mu Qing stammered, his voice breaking.

“Yes, you can.” Feng Xin’s tone cut like a blade,sharp, precise, inarguable. He stepped closer, the air between them thick enough to choke.
“Or do I need to help?”

Mu Qing flinched violently as Feng Xin’s hand shot out,not to touch him gently, but to grab his chin, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

“You wanted my attention so badly,” Feng Xin said, his voice like a growl rolling from deep in his chest. “You’ve been acting like a brat for weeks. Throwing scrolls. Screaming in the halls. Pressing your pathetic little foot against me like a whore under the council table.”

Mu Qing let out a strangled sound. “I- I wasn’t-”

The sharp crack of a slap rang out as Feng Xin’s palm connected with his cheek, not hard enough to injure but enough to make Mu Qing’s head snap to the side. His breath hitched in shock, heat blooming under his skin.

“Don’t lie.” Feng Xin’s voice was low and lethal now. “You’ve been fucking yourself stupid thinking about me, haven’t you?”

Mu Qing’s cock twitched traitorously in his still-trembling hand.

“Say it,” Feng Xin ordered.

“No!! Fuck you??!!”

Another slap. This one sharper. “Say. It.”

Mu Qing’s chest heaved, a flush rising up his neck. “I-” He choked. “I thought of you. Your voice…”

“Pathetic.” Feng Xin released his chin and stepped back slightly, folding his arms. “Show me how pathetic you are.”

Mu Qing’s hand moved automatically, stroking his leaking length under the weight of Feng Xin’s burning stare. His movements were jerky at first, but as heat coiled low in his stomach, they became desperate,fast and rough.

“Louder,” Feng Xin said sharply.

Mu Qing gasped as he tightened his grip, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips bucked into his fist.
“Feng Xin- fuck …ah..”

“Did you moan like that when you were alone too?”

“Y-Yes…fuck…”

“Fucking disgraceful.” Feng Xin’s voice was cold, but his eyes burned with an intensity that pinned Mu Qing in place. “Finish. I want to see you come.”

Mu Qing’s thighs trembled, his whole body taut as a bowstring as heat built viciously in his gut.

“Now.” The single word cracked like a whip.

Mu Qing’s orgasm ripped through him like a storm, his head thrown back in a broken cry as his cum splattered across his hand, robes, and the floor beneath him. His chest heaved as aftershocks wracked his body, his pride shattered beyond recognition.

Feng Xin’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, his jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

“You’re a fucking mess,” he said flatly. “Clean yourself up.”

But he didn’t leave.

Not yet.

The silence after Mu Qing’s release was thick and suffocating. His shaky breaths filled the space, each one louder than the last as he sat there,cock still twitching in his fist, his own cum dripping down his fingers, staining his pristine robes.

Feng Xin didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

He just stood there, towering, golden eyes fixed on Mu Qing like he was a predator deciding whether to devour or spare. His arms were crossed tight across his broad chest, veins standing out as though he was gripping himself back from doing… something.

Mu Qing swallowed hard, throat clicking.

“…You’re just going to stand there?” he said, his voice trembling despite the edge he tried to put into it. “If you’ve had your fill of humiliation, leave. Let me…”

A large hand shot out, gripping Mu Qing’s wrist like iron.

“Who said you could stop?” Feng Xin’s voice was low. Dangerous. His thumb pressed into the inside of Mu Qing’s wrist, feeling his pulse rabbit-fast.

“I-I already…”

“Did I say you were done?”

Mu Qing’s heart climbed into his throat. “Feng Xin, don’t you dare…”

“Don’t I dare what?” Another step closer. Mu Qing’s chair creaked ominously as Feng Xin loomed over him now, the heat of his body oppressive.

“Don’t I dare treat you like the desperate little slut you’ve been acting?” Feng Xin’s lip curled slightly. “Or don’t i dare give you what you’ve been begging for every time you looked at me like that?”

Mu Qing’s breath hitched. “I wasn’t-”

The crack of a slap echoed again, this one sharper, dragging a choked noise from Mu Qing’s throat.

“No more lies,” Feng Xin said coldly. “You’ve been playing at this for days. Arching your back like a courtesan. Dropping your voice every time you said ‘General.’ Pressing your filthy little foot against me under the table like I wouldn’t notice.”

Mu Qing’s face burned scarlet, but his cock twitched again, traitorous in its interest.

“You’re hard again,” Feng Xin noted coolly. His grip on Mu Qing’s wrist tightened, dragging his sticky, trembling hand back to his own cock.

“Show me how much you want this. Stroke yourself.”

“but-”

Feng Xin’s free hand shot out, gripping Mu Qing’s jaw, fingers digging in so hard his lips parted.
“Stroke. Or I’ll do it for you, and I promise I won’t be gentle.”

Mu Qing let out a shaky, broken moan as his hand began moving again, slick noises obscene in the charged air.

“Faster.”

He obeyed.

“Look at me when you do it.”

Mu Qing’s eyes fluttered open, glassy with shame and arousal as they met Feng Xin’s smoldering stare.

“Pathetic,” Feng Xin murmured. “You’re getting off on this. On me standing here, fully clothed, watching you ruin yourself. Are you even capable of shame anymore?”

Mu Qing bit his lip hard, muffling a sob as his body shuddered under the intensity of the moment.

“You’d take anything from me, wouldn’t you?” Feng Xin’s voice was soft now, but laced with venom. “A word. A glance. Even my contempt. You’d get on your knees and let me use you if it meant I finally saw you, wouldn’t you?”

Mu Qing’s breath caught, his hips jerking into his fist. “F-Fuck-”

Feng Xin’s jaw flexed. “Stop.”

Mu Qing froze mid-stroke, trembling. “What…”

“Get up.”

Before Mu Qing could process, Feng Xin grabbed him by the front of his robes and yanked him to his feet, sending the chair clattering back.

“Over the table. Now.”

Mu Qing’s knees almost buckled. “Wait-”

“Now.”

The sharpness in his tone left no room for argument. Mu Qing stumbled forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table as Feng Xin pushed him down, the cold wood biting into his bare chest.

“You wanted my attention so badly,” Feng Xin growled, his hands wrenching Mu Qing’s hips back. “You’re going to get all of it.”

There was a ripping sound as Mu Qing’s robes were torn open. His ponytail was pulled up from behind making him scream from the pain.

“Loud for once. That’s how you want to be, right?”

Mu Qing’s face burned as the humiliation set.

“Is this why you tie your hair so tight? So I can pull it?”

Feng Xin’s fingers fisted in Mu Qing’s silken hair, yanking his head back until his gasping lips parted in a sound halfway between a sob and a growl. His other hand caught Mu Qing’s jaw, forcing him to look up, golden eyes boring into his like molten metal.

“Say it,” Feng Xin demanded. “Say you wanted this.”

“I-” Mu Qing’s lips trembled, pride battling lust.

“Say it.”

Mu Qing’s jaw set stubbornly, even as his body betrayed him, shaking with arousal.

“I wanted this,” he hissed finally, voice laced with venom he didn’t feel.

“Good.” Feng Xin’s thumb traced Mu Qing’s flushed lips before shoving his head roughly to the side. “Then act like it.”

Mu Qing choked on a breath, his chest heaving as he clung to the table edge. His robes hung open in tatters, baring skin flushed and slick with sweat.

“You’re going to take every inch like the filthy slut you are,” Feng Xin growled.

He knelt behind him, large hands spreading Mu Qing’s ass wide. The sudden rush of cool air made Mu Qing shiver violently.

“Look at that needy little hole,” Feng Xin said, voice low and mocking. He let a glob of spit fall, wet and obscene, right onto Mu Qing’s exposed entrance. His thumb smeared it lazily, circling but never pushing in.

Mu Qing’s fingers clawed the polished wood. “Fuck you…”

“Oh, you will. Eventually.” Feng Xin’s smirk was audible. “But not now..not until you ask for it like a good little whore.”

His thumb kept circling, maddeningly slow, slick but shallow. Mu Qing’s thighs trembled with the effort of staying still.

“You want my fingers inside you?” Feng Xin murmured, so close Mu Qing felt the heat of his breath on his skin. “Want me to stretch you out right here over my maps?”

“...No.” Mu Qing’s voice was tight, strangled.

Feng Xin chuckled darkly. “No? Then why are you clenching around nothing like you’re begging for it?”

Mu Qing squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself as another traitorous twitch of his hole gave him away.

“You’re leaking all over my table.” Feng Xin’s fingers traced the inside of Mu Qing’s trembling thighs, stopping just short of where he ached most. “Pathetic.”

“Just- fuck off already!”

“Oh no. You don’t get to order me around.” Feng Xin’s hand came up to tangle in his hair again, yanking his head back cruelly. “You’re the one bent over like a whore. You don’t even know how ridiculous you look.”

“I’m not…” Mu Qing gritted out, still refusing to beg.

Feng Xin hummed. “Not? You’re flushed, dripping, and still trying to act like you’re in control?” His teeth scraped the shell of Mu Qing’s ear, making him flinch.

“Fine,” Feng Xin said coolly. “If you won’t ask, I’ll take my time.”

He pressed his slick thumb harder, teasing the rim, threatening to breach but never committing. Every slow, deliberate circle made Mu Qing’s hips twitch with desperate, involuntary jerks.

“F-Fuck…”

“Not yet.” Feng Xin’s other hand ghosted over Mu Qing’s cock, fingers barely brushing the sensitive tip. “Do you want this?”

“No,” Mu Qing bit out, voice cracking.

“No?” Feng Xin squeezed,just enough to make Mu Qing gasp,and then pulled his hand away entirely.

“Then I’ll leave.”

Mu Qing’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “You- don’t you dare!!!”

“Then ask for it.”

Mu Qing’s pride burned, but his body betrayed him again, hole clenching as another drop of precum smeared against the wood beneath him.

Feng Xin's voice turned to a whisper of steel.
“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you.”

“...Go to hell.” Mu Qing hissed, trembling violently.

“Wrong answer.”

Feng Xin’s fingers finally breached him, just one knuckle deep, and Mu Qing’s strangled moan echoed off the walls.

“Fuck…!”

“Still holding out?” Feng Xin teased, working his finger slowly in and out. “How long before you crack, Mu Qing?”

“Never!”

“Liar.”

Another finger joined the first without warning, stretching him, the burn making Mu Qing’s knees nearly buckle. His nails dug crescent moons into the table.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” Feng Xin said softly. “You want it so bad it hurts.”

“Shut up…”

“You think I don’t see you? All those nights you touched yourself thinking about this,about me,about my cock splitting you open…”

“Fuck…Feng Xin…”

“That’s it. Say my name again like a good slut.”

Mu Qing’s pride crumbled as a third finger sank in, stretching him open, leaving him gasping.

“Feng Xin…ah…”

“Good. Beg for it.”

“I..” Mu Qing bit his lip so hard it bled.

“I said beg.” Feng Xin’s voice was molten steel now, low and commanding, carrying a weight that made Mu Qing’s stomach flip. “Or I’ll leave you like this. Empty. Needy. Pathetic.”

Mu Qing’s defiance shattered like brittle porcelain.
“Fine… please…” It was a whisper, barely audible.

“Louder.” Feng Xin’s thumb pressed cruelly against his leaking tip, making his whole body jolt.

“Please! Fuck me… don’t leave…!” Mu Qing cried, voice breaking with raw need.

“There it is.” Feng Xin’s smirk was audible. He withdrew his fingers slowly, dragging them out until Mu Qing’s hole fluttered around nothing, desperate and wanting.

“You’re aware how good I am with whores, right?” Feng Xin said as he stood, unfastening his robes with one fluid, predatory motion. The fabric slid from his shoulders, baring golden skin and hard muscle. “You want to know what I do to them?”

Mu Qing made a choked sound, his pride too shredded to reply.

“I make them take every inch. I fuck them until they can’t walk straight for days. You want that?”

Mu Qing shuddered, fingers clawing uselessly at the table.

“You’ll take every fucking inch,” Feng Xin growled.

The blunt head of his cock pressed to Mu Qing’s spit-slick entrance, teasing for just a moment before Feng Xin slammed forward in one hard, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

Mu Qing screamed,high and raw,as Feng Xin’s cock forced its way in, stretching him open brutally with no pause, no mercy. His fingers clawed at the table, legs trembling violently under the weight of that unrelenting girth.

“Fuck…” Feng Xin hissed through his teeth, his hands gripping Mu Qing’s hips so hard there’d be bruises tomorrow. “So fucking tight. This greedy little hole’s choking me,like it was made for my cock.”

“Shut… up…” Mu Qing gasped between sobs of pleasure and humiliation, pride bleeding from every ragged breath even as his body betrayed him, clenching desperately around the thick intrusion.

“Still got that mouth, huh?” Feng Xin’s laugh was dark as sin as he drew back and slammed in again, the sound of his hips meeting Mu Qing’s ass echoing obscene and wet. “Don’t worry. I’ll fuck the fight out of you.”

“F-Fuck…you!” Mu Qing’s retort dissolved into a strangled moan as Feng Xin’s pace grew merciless, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. The table shuddered under them, the wood creaking with every thrust.

“Listen to you,” Feng Xin sneered, voice a growl against Mu Qing’s ear. “You’re dripping down your thighs like a common whore. Is that what you are? My personal little whore?”

“I…am…not..ngh.. ” Mu Qing bit back a sob, the denial weak and unconvincing as his body fluttered around Feng Xin’s cock.

“No?” Feng Xin’s grin was pure menace. He pulled out almost all the way, the swollen head dragging against that tender ring of muscle, then slammed back in with a grunt that shook Mu Qing’s bones. “Then why are you milking my cock like you’re scared I’ll leave?”

Mu Qing’s breath came in high, broken gasps as he pressed his forehead to the cool wood of the table. “F-Fuck… stop talking…”

“No. You’ll hear every word.” Feng Xin’s fingers tangled in Mu Qing’s hair, yanking his head back. “You’re going to take it. Until you can’t stand. Until you can’t think. I'm gonna cum inside you like a breed mare”

Another brutal thrust, and Mu Qing’s sharp tongue finally failed him, a wrecked sob falling from his lips.

“Say it,” Feng Xin growled, his thrusts picking up speed, harder, deeper. “Say you’re mine.”

“Fuck..off.” Mu Qing’s voice broke again, his nails digging deep scratches into the polished surface beneath him.

“Fine.” Feng Xin’s voice turned molten, his control fraying at the edges. “I’ll make your body say it.”

And he did…
Each snap of his hips drove Mu Qing forward on the table, forcing his legs wider, his body arching helplessly as obscene slaps of flesh filled the room.

“Gods… you sound so fucking desperate,” Feng Xin snarled, leaning close enough for his teeth to graze the shell of Mu Qing’s ear. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“F-Fuck…can’t…” Mu Qing’s voice was high, wrecked, his pride in tatters as heat coiled viciously in his gut.

“You can. And you will.” Feng Xin’s hand wrapped tight around Mu Qing’s cock, stroking him in time with each savage thrust. “You’re going to come again, and then I’ll fill you up like the filthy slut you are.”

“I…hate…you…” Mu Qing’s whisper was hoarse, but the way his body quivered around Feng Xin’s length made it sound pitiful.

“You hate me?” Feng Xin’s laugh was low, dangerous. “Say that again when you’re dripping my cum all over the floor.”

“Feng xi…ngh ah…” Mu Qing’s words disintegrated as his orgasm hit him like lightning. He came hard, untouched except for Feng Xin’s punishing strokes, ropes of cum painting the wood beneath him as his entire body convulsed around that relentless cock.

“Fuck…look at you,” Feng Xin hissed, watching Mu Qing shake and clench and sob. “So tight even now…you're fucking perfect.”

His pace turned feral, primal, as the tight heat of Mu Qing’s spasming body pushed him over the edge.
“Go…to hell..” Mu Qing spoke words broken by the other’s thrust

“Already taking you there.” He answered not stopping

He paced up as Mu Qing could feel him getting thicker.
“Take it,” Feng Xin snarled, his voice raw with lust and possessiveness. “Fucking take it.”

With a final series of savage thrusts that slammed Mu Qing flat against the table, Feng Xin buried himself to the hilt, grinding in deep as his release poured hot inside, filling Mu Qing until it dripped down his thighs in thick, obscene trails.

They stayed like that for a moment…Mu Qing a trembling wreck beneath him, Feng Xin breathing hard over his shoulder, sweat-slick and flushed.

When Feng Xin finally pulled out with a wet sound, Mu Qing whimpered faintly at the loss.

“Look at you,” Feng Xin murmured, dragging a finger down Mu Qing’s ruined spine to the mess leaking from him. “Dripping like a common whore.”

Mu Qing’s cheeks burned as he pressed his face to the table, glaring weakly at nothing. “I… hate you.”

Feng Xin’s smirk was sharp, dangerous. “No, you don’t.”

Feng Xin grabbed a damp cloth and awkwardly started cleaning the mess from Mu Qing’s back, his fingers clumsy and hesitant. The air was thick with unsaid things.

“Someone’s gotta clean up your disaster,” Feng Xin muttered, voice rough but off-key, like he wanted it to mean more but couldn’t quite get there.

Mu Qing said nothing, letting the cloth glide over his skin, burning from the contact yet strangely craving it.

When Feng Xin handed him a cup of water, the silence stretched painfully.

“So… did you think about me?” Feng Xin blurted, like he shoved the words out before his tongue could stop him. “Before… i caught you...”

Mu Qing snorted, almost choking on the water. “Yeah, right. I wasn’t thinking about you.”

“Bullshit. You’re impossible to ignore,” Feng Xin said, narrowing his eyes.

Mu Qing shot back, voice sharp, “Fuck you.”

“Already did,” Feng Xin quipped, grin twitching.

Mu Qing glared fiercely. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll cut your dick and shove it up your ass.”

Feng Xin laughed, dark and rough. “That’s… tempting.”

Mu Qing scowled, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Right back at you,” Feng Xin said, stepping closer, voice dropping. “You’re the most impossible pain in my ass I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, wow, you’re impossible,” Mu Qing shot back, tone dripping sarcasm.

“Fuck you,” Feng Xin repeated, smirking.

“Already did.”

The words hung between them, sharp and tangled. The room quieted, the ridiculous bickering finally sputtering out, leaving a raw stillness.

Feng Xin’s voice softened, quieter, almost vulnerable. “I was… thinking about you. More than I should.”

Mu Qing tensed, heart kicking in, but his reply was cold and clipped. “Don’t say stupid shit.”

Feng Xin’s face fell, the softness vanishing instantly, replaced by that usual smirk that kept walls up. “Yeah, sure. Stupid as always.”

Mu Qing looked away, mouth set tight. The moment was gone."breed mare? Really Feng Xin?" 

The other’s cheek flushed a light pink as he looked away " i..I was caught up in the moment."

The tension thickened again, heavier now.

Mu Qing forced himself up. “I should go.”

Feng Xin’s eyes begged, just for a flicker, “You want me to leave?”

Mu Qing’s nod was quick, firm.

Feng Xin backed away slowly, like a beaten dog. “Fine. I’ll leave.”

The door shut with a soft click. Mu Qing collapsed back onto the table, cheeks burning, heart pounding .

His breath caught as a strange warmth bloomed beneath the heat in his face. For all the biting insults and sharp edges between them, there was something… soft tangled up in the mess. Something stubborn and quietly fierce.

Mu Qing’s fingers twitched, almost reaching out, before he clenched his fists instead. Maybe one day, he thought, they’d figure out how to say the things they really mean,
without the fight, without the walls.

But for now, his cheeks still flushed, and his heart still raced in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.