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Of all the problems that Mobei Jun anticipates he will face during his reign as king of the northern realm, a rodent infestation is not on his list.
And he means it literally. A rodent infestation, in every sense of the word, because only one individual rodent is involved.
Now, Mobei Jun is a cautious demon. He did not survive the many ambushes planned by his uncle and other adversaries – demons, cultivators, and humans alike – by being careless. No, Mobei Jun has his guard up, 24/7, 365 days per year. Every fiber of his being is attuned to his surroundings. Every single inch of his palace is infused with his powers (courtesy of the Mobei lineage), alert, anticipating, ready to detect the slightest deviations.
It therefore doesn’t escape his notice that he has been having unusually peaceful sleeps as of late.
Ever since his uncle’s betrayal, there hasn’t been a night where Mobei Jun doesn’t suffer a nightmare. In the wild, resting one’s mind for too long spells a quick death. To succumb to deep sleep and leave himself exposed is therefore unacceptable.
Then there is the questionable tampering of his room. Every time he awakes, his room appear slightly tidier than the night before. The books lining his bookshelf seem more organized, with the spines righted and the covers dusted. His cloak that was thrown haphazardly on the clothing stand the night before is now tastefully re-arranged. Even the bedsheets beneath him are less mussed up than normal (although that could partially be due to his peaceful sleeps).
Mobei Jun could not detect any malign intentions coming from his mysterious visitor. Nevertheless, it unsettles him that someone could have gained access into his room when he is at his most vulnerable.
And so Mobei Jun sets to investigating the identity of the perpetrator.
It doesn’t take long for Mobei Jun to figure out that his dinner has been drugged. The perpetrator? None other than a little demon – a new recruit – that has been placed in charge of running errands, including serving him dinner.
Mobei Jun remembers the little demon. Not many demons possess humanoid proportions. The few that do tend to belong to the higher ranks, such as Luo Binghe and Sha Hualing. Although neither of them is physically bulky, the way they carry themselves exudes power.
On the other hand, the little demon reminds Mobei Jun of a skittish mouse. The way he scurries about, hither and thither on his short legs, is reminiscent of a mouse toiling away to cache its forage before hibernation. It definitely doesn’t help that the little demon has rounded features resembling those of a mouse’s. His face leans on the chubbier side, sporting two large eyes sitting atop of rosy cheeks that betray all his emotions (another oddity in the demon realm). He is also ‘little’ compared to all the other demons serving his court. Several times the little demon bumps into other servants while making his rounds, and each time Mobei Jun wonders whether the other would fly back from the impact (surprisingly, the little demon stands his ground, although he does bounce back a bit).
Mobei Jun identifies the culprit based on their connection. Whenever the little demon comes close, Mobei Jun feels a familiar tug inside his body. Beckoning. Calling. What most people are unaware of is the fact that the Mobei Clan is also capable of blood manipulation, albeit to a lesser degree than the Heavenly Demons.
He senses his blood within the little demon.
More specifically, within the stomach of the little demon.
Somehow this unassuming demon has managed to infiltrate his room and obtain his blood. The only rational explanation is that the little demon has drugged his food and snuck into his room when he was passed out. How the little demon obtained his blood is a mystery. Mobei Jun couldn’t see any wounds on his body.
The second mystery comes a few days later, when Mobei Jun feels the presence of his blood waning. This has never happened before, as the influence of the Mobei or Heavenly Demon blood should be permanent.
~oOo~
Intrigued by the prospect of a demon capable of breaking down his blood, Mobei Jun decides to keep the little demon around. Life in the Northern Realm can be quite monotonous: kill or be killed, there simply aren’t many options for entertainment. So, when the opportunity presents itself in the form a mouse-like demon, Mobei Jun takes it.
It turns out that Mobei Jun enjoys watching the little demon work frantically to clean the palace and serve food. The hurried and chaotic way the little demon scurries about belies the meticulous and systematic approach the little demon uses to organize everything about the palace. There is a system – an internal schedule – that the little demon follows to make sure that everything runs accordingly. Even the head servant yields her way to the little demon, cautious not to disrupt the latter’s schedule.
Then, Mobei Jun decides to take his investigation up another notch.
He secretly throws his dinner away into one of his portals, uncaring of which unlucky demon the food will land upon on the other opening of the portal.
Later that night, Mobei Jun teleports back to his bedchamber and pretends to fall asleep.
An hour passed. Two hours. Then three. And still not a sign of the little demon.
Just when Mobei Jun thinks that the little demon is not visiting, he hears a little scuffle. He cracks an eye open and is greeted by the sight of a mouse-like creature squeezing its way through a tiny hole in the wall. For a moment it seems to be stuck in the hole as it struggles, twisting frantically left and right, before finally exiting with a soft ‘pop’. It bounces and rolls on the floor, skidding to a halt right at the foot of the bed.
On closer inspection, Mobei Jun realizes that the creature is a bat.
The bat shakes itself and in a small puff of smoke, turns back to its human form – none other than the little demon.
“Phew, what a tight squeeze,” the little demon sighs in relief as he brushes off remnant dust from his wings. They flutter slightly, as if in agreement.
Now Mobei Jun would have noticed that the little demon kept his wings out, if not for the fact that his attention is drawn to the plump ass, so rounded and bouncy, as the little demon scurries towards him. Apparently, transformation does not include clothing in the package and the little demon is very, very naked.
Mobei Jun closes his eyes and feigns sleep when the little demon nears him. But even without his vision, he could feel what the little demon is up to.
Slowly, the little demon climbs onto the bed. He carefully waves his hand in front of the sleeping demon, checking that the lord of the Northern Realm is truly asleep. Sensing no movement from the other, the little demon scoots closer. He leans over Mobei Jun, studying the sleeping features, before reaching out a tentative hand to touch the demon lord’s face.
Mobei Jun feels tender fingers trailing over his face. From his forehead, over the shape of his brows, down his eyelashes and nose, before stopping at the lips. The fingers linger over his lips, tracing over the shape reverently, before following the curvature of his face down to his jaw. He tenses – barely perceptibly – when the fingers flutter over his jugulars, then down his collarbone and chest.
Throughout the entire process the little demon has been nothing but reverent in his movements, as if he is committing every dip and curve to his memory. There is a soft sigh, before the little demon lifts Mobei Jun’s hand and nuzzles into the wrist.
Mobei Jun feels warm lips kissing the inside of his wrist. It tickles, like a soft feather brushing against his skin, and he resists the urge to clench his fists. On normal occasions he would have decapitated the other for such insolence. But he is curious where all this is leading, so he lets the other continue.
The little demon begins scrapping away at the skin with his fangs. It doesn’t hurt and in no time, a shallow wound was opened. He laps at the wound, tongue moving rapidly to take in as much of the oozing blood as possible.
Mobei Jun feels his blood slipping down the little demon’s throat into his stomach and if he’d his eyes opened now, he would see a rosy flush creeping up the little demon’s chubby cheeks. For some reason, his blood doesn’t stop flowing. Given the size of the wound, it should have closed by now, but the little demon must have some sort of technique to prolong the blood flow.
After having his fill, the little demon gives another lick on the wrist and the bleeding stops abruptly. He rubs at his slightly-bulging stomach in satisfaction, giving a soft burp to signal his fullness.
Just when Mobei Jun thinks this is the end of the feeding session, he feels the little demon stretch out beside him, little body nestled firmly against his. Soon, the breathing evens out, signaling that the other has dozed off.
At such a close distance, Mobei Jun feels the warmth radiating off the little body. So vibrant and full of energy. Out of curiosity, he reaches his hand out and gives the rump a tentative squeeze. It is as soft as meaty as it looks.
The little demon grumbles slightly, pushing away the offending limb before settling down again.
They stay like that for the rest of the night, cuddling together, face to face, until Mobei Jun eventually drifts off to a dreamless sleep with the sound of the other’s snoring in his ears.
Right before the hour of dawn, Mobei Jun is awakened by the body stirring beside him. The little demon wakes up, shaking his wings slightly to loosen his muscles. He checks that the wound on Mobei Jun’s wrist is gone. He smooths out the bedsheets where he had been lying on and plants a quick kiss on Mobei Jun’s forehead – right over the demonic sigil – before transforming back and squeezing his way out of the hole again.
~oOo~
Mobei Jun doesn’t know what compels him to keep the ruse going.
Night after night, the little demon visits Mobei Jun, growing bolder with his moves. The interval of visit is shortened from three days to a nightly frequent. He doesn’t feed every night. Most of the time he is content with cleaning his king’s bedchamber and fussing over the books. The routine at the end of the visit, however, remains the same. He would climb into bed and cuddle with Mobei Jun until the wee hours of dawn before leaving.
Each night, Mobei Jun enjoys having the warm body right next to him, to feel soft skin and cards through glossy hair. He notices that the little demon looks healthier compared to when he was first recruited, courtesy of being fed consistently on high quality blood.
The other thing that Mobei Jun enjoys about the little demon aside from his soft body is the good company.
The little demon has a habit of keeping a running monologue (after he checks to make sure that Mobei Jun is ‘asleep’) – complaints about his days, his dreams and ambitions of working up the servant order, or whatever book he happens to come across. Fantastic tales of adventures and clutching romance are his favorite, judging by how enthusiastically he discusses the plot and characters. Apparently, the little demon also writes, quite prolifically as well, because he would often compare the books to his own stories.
Then, there are the compliments. Load, and loads, of compliments.
“My king is so handsome,” the little demon sighs wistfully as he brushes a strand of hair off of Mobei Jun’s face after another feeding session. “The handsomest demon that I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Mobei Jun doesn’t know how many demons his nightly visitor had seen, but he takes the compliments.
To accommodate the other’s interests, Mobei Jun finds himself leaving more books in his bedchamber, switching out the old ones so that there is an influx of materials and stories for the little demon to consume. He even orders the head servant to leave more free time for the little demon so he could continue his literary pursuits.
Except things didn’t go as Mobei Jun expected.
One night, during a post-feeding cuddle, the little demon confesses sadly: “I think my king doesn’t value my service anymore.” He looks so pitiable, scrunching in on himself to find protection in his own body. “He doesn’t use my services as much anymore and even asked the head servant to give me more free time. Did I do something wrong? Is he going to lay off me? Or maybe kill me?”
“…he wants to give you more time for yourself so you can write your stories.”
“Oh that would be very kind of him, but it’s not like my king knows about my hobbies. I don’t talk to anyone else about it because the demons always made fun of me for writing.” The little demon sniffles, round eyes filled with tears. He is feeling terribly sorry for himself right now!
“This Mobei Jun is fully aware of your hobbies.”
“Yeah right, as if my king would pay any attention to ole me.”
“……”
“……”
Shang Qinghua springs up in bed, eyes wide. His mouth opens and closes a few times before a tiny voice squeaks out: “m-my k-k-king!?” How? He is certain that the herbal drug he slipped into his king’s food is working! It had been working for all the times he visited his king! So why is the other awake?
“Quiet.” Mobei Jun could practically hear the panicked dialogue going on inside the other’s head.
Shang Qinghua’s gaping mouth snaps shut, although his eyes are still wide with confusion and shock.
“I’ve always been awake—” except maybe the first time “—and I am fully aware that you are trespassing into my bedchamber and drinking my blood without permission.” Mobei Jun watches in amusement as the little demon trembles under his stare. “What is your name?”
“Sha—Shen Huahua.” The little demon mumbles.
“Lies.” Mobei Jun growls. He could feel the little demon’s heartbeat rise, a sign that the other is lying. “I’m only giving you one more chance.”
“……Sha-Shang Qinghua.”
“Qinghua.” Mobei Jun tests the name on his tongue. Much better. “Now explain yourself.”
“I just want to eat,” Shang Qinghua’s hand flies to his stomach, slightly rounded after feeding. Much to his chagrin, he realizes that he is, in fact, still very naked and completely exposed to his king for peruse. His wings snap forward to wrap around his body in an attempt to preserve modesty.
“You dare treat me as food?”
“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” Shang Qinghua unwraps his wings and plaster himself against the demon lord’s leg. He had seen how easily Mobei Jun disposes of unruly demons in his court: a flick of the finger, a scrunch of the brow, and the victim would be decapitated or impaled by icicles. He doesn’t want to die such a gruesome death! “If you kill me here, it’ll dirty your room!” And I just spent a long time cleaning it! He adds silently.
“……I can teleport you outside.”
“Please don’t? I can do whatever you like, just please don’t kill me!” Shang Qinghua pulls his most pitiable expression, hoping to soften the king of the Northern Realm’s icy heart.
“Anything?” Mobei Jun asks, reveling in the warm body pressed against his legs.
“Anything!” Shang Qinghua nods, missing the glint in his king’s eyes.
Mobei Jun leans back on the headboard and points to the spot between his legs. “Then please me.”
Shang Qinghua gulps, staring at the bulge, imagining what it is like underneath. Even though Mobei Jun is wearing a loose robe for sleep, he can still make out the outline of the monstrosity. “Um…”
“You said you can do anything. Consider this your punishment. If you do it well, I’ll spare your life.”
My king! This is a reward! Shang Qinghua doesn’t hesitate as he plants himself between two strong legs and nudges the robes upward, revealing the bulky mass underneath. His mouth waters at the metallic fragrance of blood wafting from below. How is he already hungry when he had just fed not too long ago? There is barely suppressed excitement as Shang Qinghua unties his king’s loin cloth.
Shang Qinghua takes the cock in his hands, awed by the weight and length of it. Suddenly, everything feels so foreign. It is not like he hadn’t pleasured himself in the past. He knows the steps. Knows which spots to hit. Knows the right dips and pressure. But doing a handjob for someone else is a different matter. For one, the angle is very different. What is he supposed to do when the cock is directly facing him?
Never mind that this is his king’s little king! He is feeling immense pressure right now! Torn between whether he should feel honored to serve his king or break down under the acute pressure, Shang Qinghua wants to cry.
“You don’t want to do it?” Mobei Jun asks.
“N–No! I’m happy to be of service to my king!” And Shang Qinghua means it. He had fantasized about being with his king – romantically and sexually – and even wrote it into his manuscripts, but expectations and reality are two different things. At least in his manuscripts there is no danger of being decapitated or impaled for creeping into his king’s bedchamber.
Up and down. Easy does it. Shang Qinghua repeats to himself as his fingers circle around the girth. He moves his hands mechanically, from the base to tip, and back down. Slowly, but surely, Mobei Junior comes to life in his palms. Occasionally, he lets his fingers scrap lightly along the base, replacing the image with his fangs…
“You’re drooling.”
“Ah?” Shang Qinghua’s head snaps up from his intense scrutiny of Mobei Junior.
Instead of answering, Mobei Jun only looks pointedly at Shang Qinghua’s mouth.
Shang Qinghua wipes at the corner of his mouth, embarrassment coloring his face that he had been caught thinking about eating his king – figuratively and literally. “May I?” He places his face closer to his king’s cock, letting warm breaths ghost over the tip.
When Shang Qinghua receives no reply from Mobei Jun, he takes it as silent encouragement. He kisses the tip gently before guiding it into his mouth, taking down the head in one go. A pleased hiss overhead informs him that his actions are well received. Darting a glance upwards, their eyes met, and he could see his king’s clouded with lust. Taking that as further encouragement, Shang Qinghua hollows his cheeks to take in a deep breath before taking more of the cock. At no point did his tongue stop working, pressing and sliding against the underside as it coaxes the cock further in.
Mobei Jun groans as he watches his cock disappear inside Shang Qinghua’s petite mouth. It is hot and moist and absolutely messy. Just like the rest of Shang Qinghua. Saliva drips down the side of the little demon’s chin the further he pushes inside, and he could see the other’s developing erection.
“Mmph,” Shang Qinghua groans as he reaches the one-third point. Only so little taken in and he already feels like he has reached his limit. The cock rests heavily on his tongue and he could taste the bitter saltiness that is sweat mixed with precum. He wants to take in more, the heady scent coming from his king pushing him to try harder. His hands rub against the leftover two-thirds of the cock that are still outside his mouth.
“En.” Mobei Jun’s breath hitches when Shang Qinghua’s fingers slip between his legs, to the skin behind his balls. Delicate fingers massage at that area, pressing, kneading, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine. Mobei Jun has never experienced this intense feeling before. Pain, he is used to, and the occasional release when he masturbates, but this hit different. A familiar tightening creeps down his abdomen.
Shang Qinghua doesn’t stop his ministrations. He moves his fingers in slow, even strokes, forcing groans out of his king with each stroke.
“Qinghua.” Mobei Jun’s voice is guttural, filled with warning and dark promises.
It doesn’t deter Shang Qinghua. If anything, it spurs him onwards, as he takes another daring suck, letting the tips of his fangs graze across sensitive skin.
This is the last straw that breaks the camel’s back.
Mobei Jun’s hands shoot out, one fisting Shang Qinghua’s hair and pushing his head downwards, the other cupping Shang Qinghua’s face and holding the jaw open. His hips snap sharply as he begins fucking the little demon’s face.
“Mmph mmph!” Shang Qinghua moans, eyes rolling back as the shaft pushes forcefully past his mouth, into the depth of his throat that he didn’t know could accommodate such a length. Instinctively, he tries to remove the intruder, throat constricting, tongue pushing the cock out, not realizing that all he is doing is adding to the pleasure.
As if that is not enough, Mobei Jun closes his eyes and feels his blood sing back at him from the depths of Shang Qinghua’s stomach. He watches in satisfaction as Shang Qinghua’s cute eyes widen in surprise and his little cock jumps to attention.
Tears pool in Shang Qinghua’s eyes. This is unfair! He didn’t know that Mobei Jun could manipulate his own blood! What starts out as a warm fuzzy sensation in his stomach quickly escalates into a fiery itchiness that sends his toes curling and wings fluttering.
The movements seem to catch Mobei Jun’s attention as his hands migrate from Shang Qinghua’s face to apply circular strokes on the velvet wings. They are smooth and surprisingly soft, just like everything about Shang Qinghua, a texture that he could get addicted to. The Northern Realm is known for its harshness, and everything – from the furniture down to his clothing – is made of coarseness.
But Shang Qinghua is different. Shang Qinghua brings a comfortable warmth and teaches him the enjoyment of tender touches and smooth textures.
“Ah,” the touches on his wings is too much and succeeds in bringing Shang Qinghua closer to the edge. His cock twitches uselessly, however.
“Not so fast,” Mobei Jun pants, holding back the impending orgasm in Shang Qinghua using his blood technique.
“Mmph!” Frustrated, Shang Qinghua pulls his lips back and lets his fangs graze against Mobei Jun’s tips, drawing a groan from the other.
“You dare.” Mobei Jun says, although there is no anger in his words. In a single flip, he reverses their position (careful to spread Shang Qinghua’s wings to the side so they don’t end up broken in the process), so that he is now hovering above Shang Qinghua, and proceeds to pound into the little demon’s mouth.
Shang Qinghua’s hands find purchase on Mobei Jun’s hips and cheeks, trying to slow things down, but unable to do so as he is tugged into his king’s rhythm.
Mobei Jun feels himself creeping closer and closer to the edge. Finally, with one more stroke, he comes into Shang Qinghua’s mouth, the same time he releases the punishing bind of his blood on Shang Qinghua’s orgasm.
~oOo~
“That was intense,” Shang Qinghua says when he finally regains his breath. He is now lying on the bed, his body pressed tightly and securely against his king’s. They lie there, spooning each other, uncaring of the mess between their legs.
“You nicked me.” Mobei Jun says (Shang Qinghua swears that the other is pouting). There is a small cut on Mobei Jun Junior, a trivial casualty from the whole session.
Shang Qinghua smiles apologetically. It couldn’t be helped that he got so caught up in everything that the moment he came, his fangs clip the soft muscle in his mouth. “‘m sorry,” He mumbles, the familiar pull of sleep creeping over him now that he is fully fed.
“How are you going to pay for your insolence?”
“I dunnoe?” Shang Qinghua shrugs innocently. He is still coming down from the warm fuzzy feeling that is post-coital glow and everything feels warm and nice. So much so that he doesn’t even perceive his king’s question as a threat. “Whatever you want, my king.”
“Hmph. I sentence you to service me privately from now on.”
Shang Qinghua raises an eyebrow. Why does that sound like a promotion rather than a punishment? “Can I still drink your blood?”
“Depends on your performance.” Mobei Jun smirks.
“Ah, my king is too generous—too mean to me,” Shang Qinghua smiles.