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Entry tags:
Fic - neglected - 1/1
Title: neglected
Author: Evandar
Fandom: SVSSS
Rating: G
Warning: None
Pairing: Mobei-jun/Shang Qinghua
Disclaimer: I do not own SVSSS and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Mobei-jun wants to sleep, but he can no longer do it alone.
AN: Posted for the March bingo challenge at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sweetandshort.
It starts as a cry for attention. Mobei-jun stalks out of their bedchamber and into Shang Qinghua’s study, where he knows he will find his husband. It’s where Shang Qinghua always is, in the moments he is not by his king’s side.
It starts as an act of frustration. He hasn’t seen his husband since dinner, and Mobei-jun is tired. He is already ready for bed; had laid in bed, in fact, tossing and turning and staring up at the ceiling.
It starts with a bone-deep desire for Shang Qinghua to look up from the endless scrolls of paper on his desk and return to his side. It doesn’t even work – not at first, although Shang Qinghua does make an appreciative noise as the pin of his guan is removed and the weight of the ornament is removed from his head. Mobei-jun runs his hands through his hair, loosening it; admiring the soft curls as they slide between his fingers.
He lets it fall against Shang Qinghua’s back. He shifts closer, inhaling the soft scent of his human: the oils he uses in his hair, the smoke of his pipe, the faint smell of his sweat under the layers of his furs. He places his hands on slim shoulders, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his hands. He skims upwards, tracing the edge of Shang Qinghua’s collar before touching the soft skin of his neck.
Once, Shang Qinghua would have flinched from such a touch. Now, he shifts a little, but doesn’t pull away. But he still doesn’t lower the contract he’s reading, either. Mobei-jun frowns. He will not be ignored any longer. He presses his fingers harder into Shang Qinghua’s flesh, massaging along the fragile vertebrae in his neck.
“My King doesn’t have to – ah!”
His cry comes as Mobei-jun’s fingers find a knot of tension in his neck and sink into the muscle. He holds himself rigid for a heartbeat as Mobei-jun kneads at his flesh before he leans back into his touch.
The contract is finally lowered in a rustle of paper. Mobei-jun smiles in satisfaction as his little husband surrenders, gasping softly every time a point of tension in his neck is released.
It’s not long before Shang Qinghua is too boneless with pleasure to stay seated, so Mobei-jun scoops him up and carries him back to their bedchamber. He settles his husband down onto their bed, ignoring the whine of protest – “My King! The contract with the Eastern Eagle Clan really needs reviewing!” – and stripping Shang Qinghua of his outer layers.
“In the morning,” he says as he tugs Shang Qinghua’s boots off of his delicate feet. “My Consort has other duties to attend.”
“My King?”
“Your King is tired,” Mobei-jun says. “Consort Shang is required here.”
He slides back into bed, drawing his husband to his side and pressing his face into Shang Qinghua’s hair. His husband gives a soft huff of amusement, but he soon settles, cuddling into Mobei-jun’s chest without any further protest.
Author: Evandar
Fandom: SVSSS
Rating: G
Warning: None
Pairing: Mobei-jun/Shang Qinghua
Disclaimer: I do not own SVSSS and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Mobei-jun wants to sleep, but he can no longer do it alone.
AN: Posted for the March bingo challenge at
sweetandshort.It starts as a cry for attention. Mobei-jun stalks out of their bedchamber and into Shang Qinghua’s study, where he knows he will find his husband. It’s where Shang Qinghua always is, in the moments he is not by his king’s side.
It starts as an act of frustration. He hasn’t seen his husband since dinner, and Mobei-jun is tired. He is already ready for bed; had laid in bed, in fact, tossing and turning and staring up at the ceiling.
It starts with a bone-deep desire for Shang Qinghua to look up from the endless scrolls of paper on his desk and return to his side. It doesn’t even work – not at first, although Shang Qinghua does make an appreciative noise as the pin of his guan is removed and the weight of the ornament is removed from his head. Mobei-jun runs his hands through his hair, loosening it; admiring the soft curls as they slide between his fingers.
He lets it fall against Shang Qinghua’s back. He shifts closer, inhaling the soft scent of his human: the oils he uses in his hair, the smoke of his pipe, the faint smell of his sweat under the layers of his furs. He places his hands on slim shoulders, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his hands. He skims upwards, tracing the edge of Shang Qinghua’s collar before touching the soft skin of his neck.
Once, Shang Qinghua would have flinched from such a touch. Now, he shifts a little, but doesn’t pull away. But he still doesn’t lower the contract he’s reading, either. Mobei-jun frowns. He will not be ignored any longer. He presses his fingers harder into Shang Qinghua’s flesh, massaging along the fragile vertebrae in his neck.
“My King doesn’t have to – ah!”
His cry comes as Mobei-jun’s fingers find a knot of tension in his neck and sink into the muscle. He holds himself rigid for a heartbeat as Mobei-jun kneads at his flesh before he leans back into his touch.
The contract is finally lowered in a rustle of paper. Mobei-jun smiles in satisfaction as his little husband surrenders, gasping softly every time a point of tension in his neck is released.
It’s not long before Shang Qinghua is too boneless with pleasure to stay seated, so Mobei-jun scoops him up and carries him back to their bedchamber. He settles his husband down onto their bed, ignoring the whine of protest – “My King! The contract with the Eastern Eagle Clan really needs reviewing!” – and stripping Shang Qinghua of his outer layers.
“In the morning,” he says as he tugs Shang Qinghua’s boots off of his delicate feet. “My Consort has other duties to attend.”
“My King?”
“Your King is tired,” Mobei-jun says. “Consort Shang is required here.”
He slides back into bed, drawing his husband to his side and pressing his face into Shang Qinghua’s hair. His husband gives a soft huff of amusement, but he soon settles, cuddling into Mobei-jun’s chest without any further protest.