Pick on Someone Your Own Size

It was only a few days since they’d first confessed to one another. Shang Qinghua had spent much of it dizzy, whether from having the breath kissed out of him in the mighty arms of his king, or from the disorienting realisation that this was really happening, his ridiculous feelings for the ice demon he’d designed to be his ideal man were requited. Not only was he allowed to kiss Mobei jun, he was being actively encouraged to do so!

All right, he might have been dizzy at first from the slight concussion he’d sustained in their confrontation with Linguang Jun, but he was fine now! Better than fine, even.

All this being the case, it took Shang Qinghua a few seconds more than it might have to realise that, this time, his dizziness was thanks to Mobei Jun having swung him up into a bridal carry, lips still locked to Shang Qinghua’s own. Pressed to his king’s cold, solid chest, he found himself carried across the bedchamber and, spun around once more, laid gently atop the Northern Moth-Leopard-silk coverlet.

Kissing horizontally was a marvellous novelty. Shang Qinghua alternated between drifting in Mobei Jun’s all-encompassing embrace, letting his fingers tangle in his king’s overly complicated, fur-trimmed robes, and unwrapping them with great intentionality because dammit, he was only going to have one first time and he wanted to remember it.

He tilted his head back to gaze into Mobei Jun’s eyes as he parted the final layer of Shang Qinghua’s underclothes and ran his large hand delicately up the inside of his thigh. This gave him the perfect view of Mobei Jun’s eyes widening in shock as his hand reached a particular point in Shang Qinghua’s anatomy.

Mobei Jun's face and hand both froze, as did Shang Qinghua's heart.

"Is—is something wrong, my king?" he asked after a moment. He levered himself up to look down at his lower body: all clean, all in one piece, his cock mostly hard—although that was going to change, if Mobei Jun kept looking at it with that expression.

"Is it, ah," Mobei Jun started, "normal? For human males to be so... endowed?"

Oh.

Shang Qinghua hadn't ever specifically described the equipment of his cowardly Peak Lord side character, but he had to admit to being quietly satisfied with how it compared to what he'd stealthily glimpsed in the An Ding junior disciples' dormitory as a teenager. Certainly, given his scrawny physique otherwise, he wasn't doing badly! He'd just never considered that anyone else might see it, or what response they'd have.

"Er. Yes? Yes, my king, it's normal!" he sputtered. "I mean, not common, exactly, perhaps, but certainly within... normal bounds."

"Ah. I see." A faint, cornflower-blue blush rose in his king's cheeks. "My apologies."

Shang Qinghua leaned up to kiss the words off his lips. He was entirely unprepared for his perfect man to pull away after only a moment and say huskily, directly into Shang Qinghua's mouth, "It's almost as big as mine."

It's what?

He momentarily lost the use of his limbs, not so much from the surprise as from the way Mobei Jun emphasised his words with a gentle squeeze of the part in question. The faint sensation of pointed demon claws was probably all in his mind... but he wasn't not into it. Nevertheless, as soon as he was able to, Shang Qinghua launched himself at the inner robe and fine silk trousers that were all that remained to shield his king's modesty.

Sure enough, what he found there—and got his hands on as rapidly as possible, lest he give the impression of being less than delighted with it—was indeed modest, at least as things went for heavenly demons. It was rather a relief to know that Mobei Jun could get an erection without passing out, considering the circumstances! Don't get him wrong, Shang Qinghua felt his mouth water at the very sight of it, but it was clear that Mobei Jun's Heavenly Pillar had been designed on a different scale than Luo Binghe's.

His poor son. Shang Qinghua shuddered: poor Cucumber-Bro, more like!

That absurdly large instrument was all very well for the protagonist, but as Shang Qinghua's ideal man, it only made sense for Mobei Jun to have one of a size that could be, well, enjoyed.

He gave it another stroke and felt it twitch, enjoyably, in his hand. His king surged forward, almost biting at his lips, before thrusting his hips so that their cocks were shoved against one another and grabbing them both—mostly—in one huge hand.

Both of them looked down. Shang Qinghua groaned at the slow, firm movement of Mobei Jun's hand, and watched as his erection swelled in response, getting just a little longer, a little thicker—until it matched Mobei Jun's nearly exactly.

Mobei Jun growled.

The rest of the night went, in Shang Qinghua's opinion, better than any papapa scene he'd ever written.