Work Text:
“… Seven Seas Entertainment has sent over a contract outlining a proposed licensing deal for Proud Immortal Demon Way, and they want to know more about this upcoming side story by the way. Have you sent your finished proposal over to me yet? If we play our cards right, this could turn into a multi-book deal.”
Xiang Fei’s Manager’s voice sounded tinny through his shitty headphones in a way that made him even easier to tune out than usual. Not even a full day out of the hospital, and he’d already been flown out of province for one meeting and was in the process of flying back for another. His manager truly was one of the few people who could be said to put Xiang Fei’s own work ethic to shame.
When his manager didn’t continue to drone on like he had since Xiang Fei had picked up the call, he spat out the hoodie string he’d been chewing. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. Yup! I can see you sent me something in my inbox. I’ll make sure to download it before my flight takes off so that I can review it in the air. You know how inconsistent Internet connections can be while traveling! Hahahahaha….”
Xiang Fei’s laptop was still powered off in his backpack, but having unread emails in his inbox was more of a guarantee than a guess. He stared longingly at the meal he’d ordered from the lounge’s luxury ramen bar that was probably growing cold. He’d been caught slurping noodles one too many times while on the phone with his manager to try his luck today.
“Oh, really? With the Plaza Premium Lounge pass, you should have access to high-speed Wi-Fi. Same with your first-class flight ticket. I was actually hoping you could hop on a Teams call with legal, and we could all review the licensing deal together. I think you’re going to be really happy with it. Is 15 minutes enough time for you to get set up?”
“Oh, you know, I definitely would love to! Except, actually, they’ve just announced that my zone will be boarding in the next few minutes. I should probably pack up and head to my gate.”
“Really? The tracking information for your flight is still showing a two-hour delay on my end. No worries, I’ll just call to reschedule the driver that was going to pick you up once you land. With you landing earlier, we might be able to squeeze in that meeting with Xun Sheng Studio about an audio drama adaptation.”
Xiang Fei pointedly looked away from the blinking red rectangle announcing a delay next to his flight number on the display screens.
“Yep! Definitely. But you know, you never know with flights. Best to keep a close eye on that tracking information. Could get stuck on the tarmac. Ice might need defrosting. You never know. Anyways—got to go!”
“Have they started boarding yet? Because—“
Xiang Fe ended the call before his manager could say anything else and slid all the way back into his armchair. His head hit the upholstered cushion with a very unsatisfactory thud. He should have known any “gift” from the System would only end up creating more work for him in the end!
While it was true he was used to navigating endless requests from advisors and retainers at Mobei-Jun’s palace, or from peak lords and disciples at Cang Qiong—all it took was one cold look from his King or Shen Qingqiu for them all to back off for a few days! He’d tried siccing Shen Yuan on his manager while they were both at the hospital together. It hadn't worked. Shen Yuan’s second-generation rich kid aura didn’t quite have the same effect as an immortal master.
Taking a moment to look around, Xiang Fe could admit that these types of lounges were really quite nice. He felt a little out of place in his sweats. Especially when compared to the executive types around him. Not that he would let a thing like embarrassment stop him from making use of plush sofa seating. This area was practically deserted compared to the workspaces, anyhow. Plus, he figured he had at least twenty minutes before his manager got through to the airline to confirm his flight's status and started blowing up his phone again.
Xiang Fe slid his brand-new laptop from his bag and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. There was nothing like scrolling through the Proud Immortal Demon Way forum while taking a break to get his creative juices flowing again. He stretched his fingers and got to work.
A trending post caught his eye right away as it dramatically climbed up the home page. Unlike the posts he remembered—which usually had some sort of inflammatory subject line regarding his book—the subject of this post was simply “Mobei-Jun”.
Curiosity sufficiently piqued, Xiang Fe gleefully clicked open the link.
Surprisingly, this was no standard otaku fight scene. As a well-liked character, Mobei-Jun was rarely the cause for much discourse. Mentions of him almost never resulted in anything other than slash writing sisters arguing if Mobei-Jun or Luo Binghe would be the gong. Either that, or brothers complaining about why one of the protagonist’s subordinates was getting so much page time.
Instead of one of the usual rants, the thread’s OP had embedded what looked to be a new fan animation. One look at the amount of exposed chest on the thumbnail had Xiang Fe double-checking the lounge was still empty and lowering the brightness of his laptop screen.
Secure in his relatively complete privacy, Xiang Fe pressed play.
Oddly, the video started with a completely dark screen. Impatient already, Xiang Fe pulled up the progress bar only to deflate slightly in disappointment as he realized the video was rolling. Maybe the video was some sort of clickbait? Luckily for him, Mobei-Jun entered the screen only a few seconds later.
Xiang Fe sighed at the sight. Even though only a few days had passed for him since they’d last seen each other, he’d missed seeing his King’s face. This fan animation really was one of the most true-to-life depictions of Mobei-Jun he’d ever seen! The way they’d captured every detail perfectly—down to the scar on Mobei-Jun’s waist from his encounter with Huan Hua palace as a teen—was downright scary. Not even any of the artists he’d commissioned pre-transmigration had been so detailed.
All of the decades of writing experience between now and the last time he’d updated Proud Immortal Demon Way must have really paid off! To get fan art this good, the description in the recent extras he’d started releasing must be top-notch. Xiang Fe couldn’t help but feel smug.
“Shang Qinghua,” the Mobei-Jun on Xiang Fe’s laptop screen growled.
Xiang Fe barely resisted letting out a small squeak. Too real! This was too real! He didn’t know if the shiver that ran through his body was from fear or arousal. The voice actor’s likeness to Mobei-Jun’s real voice was uncanny.
This Mobei-Jun was in an unusual temper. His poorly contained agitation was clear in every line of his body. “You left. Again,” he spat out.
Oh wow. Mobei-Jun was addressing Shang Qinghua so personally. Could Xiang Fe be so lucky as to stumble across a fan animation shipping Mobei-Jun with his double-crossing spy? I never thought something like this would hit the trending page, too! If this sort of thing were getting more popular, maybe he could make a different pitch to his manager.
Xiang Fe watched in rapt attention as the Mobei-Jun on his laptop screen scowled. It was clear he’d expected a much quicker response from the An Ding Peak Lord. Maybe some light groveling? Xiang Fe took a bite of his noodles.
Growing impatient, Mobei-Jun began to pace back and forth across the screen. The expression on his face was dour. “You dare not answer!”
That second shiver was most definitely arousal.
Xiang Fe waited with bated breath for Shang Qinghua to enter the frame. He hoped the artist’s rendition would be just as accurate. Though after a few more seconds of Mobei-Jun pacing back and forth alone, Xiang Fe was starting to grow more and more skeptical that the reason this fan animation was trending was a good one.
Stopping his pacing, Mobei-Jun walked forward instead until the viewer could only see a close-up of his scowl. He then lifted his hand up and pressed it flat against something the viewer couldn’t see. His skin spread out and turned white where it connected. Almost like it does when a child smushes their face against a pane of glass.
Xiang Fe watched in confusion as Mobei-Jun raised his other hand and seemed to press against the invisible barrier even harder. A blue pixelated tinge started to appear where Mobei-Jun’s skin and the barrier made contact. Was this some new 3D animation technique he’d never seen before? He could almost swear Mobei-Jun’s fingers were starting to—quite literally—pop out of his screen.
It took all of Xiang Fe’s experience cultivating to the status of an immortal master not to scream the moment that hand darted out, and he felt those very fingers wrap around his wrist. Their grip was strong enough to bruise.
After a few moments of aggressively playing tug of war back and forth with Xiang Fe’s arm, Mobei-Jun managed to squeeze his way out of Xiang Fe’s 18-inch laptop screen. Yes, the screen of his brand new laptop. Which was now broken on the floor. With an almost entire bowl of ramen spilled across its keyboard for good measure.
What the fuck?! Xiang Fe frantically tried to rip both his wrists away from the (very real!) Mobei-Jun’s grasp.
“You think I will let you go so easily this time?” Mobei-Jun snarled. “Tell me! Why did you run?”
Xiang Fe frantically slapped his hand over Mobei-Jun’s mouth, dragging Mobei-Jun’s arms up with him. The grip on Xiang Fe’s wrists tightened impossibly further, and he wasn’t able to hold back a high-pitched yelp. “My King! Ow—that hurts, that hurts! Take a look at me—look at where we are!” He whisper-yelled.
Mobei-jun indeed took a look at him. It made him feel like he’d been caught naked in public—and not in the fun and sexy way he liked to write about sometimes. Xiang Fe’s cheeks burned.
Somehow, none of the commotion had managed to draw any attention towards them. All of the business execs typing away in the adjacent workspace still had their eyes glued to their own computers, and the lounge attendant seemed to be losing a game of solitaire.
Xiang Fe released a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Cautiously, he lowered his hands and pretended to wipe them off on his Mobei-Jun’s chest. He managed to discreetly pull his King’s neckline closer together, but even in modern times, Mobei-Jun’s preferred cuts bordered on indecent. Not to mention how out of place he looked with his furs and leathers.
“I know you don’t know much about where we are, but they have guns here! An airport is not the kind of place you want to draw attention to yourself in,” pleaded Xiang Fe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. My King! You’re inside an airport with no plane ticket or photo ID. That has to be breaking at least like three international laws…”
Xiang Fe continued talking, but Mobei-Jun stopped listening. His eyes had wandered away from the other man’s face and become laser-focused on the laptop at their feet instead. At some point, Xiang Fe had started gesturing wildly with his hands, but Mobei-Jun continued to hold on.
Mobei-Jun grunted.
“…I’ll just shove you back through—oh?” Xiang Fe let himself trail off.
“Pulled noodles,” Mobei-Jun stated, as if it were some sort of obvious conclusion.
Xiang Fe felt like his head was going to explode. Out of everything they had to deal with right now, his King was most concerned with the food staining the lounge’s carpet?
Mobei-Jun nodded to himself, taking Xiang Fe’s silence as confirmation. “The reason you left. Mine were unsatisfactory.”
The pulled noodles…?
Mobei-Jun was worried his pulled noodles had been unsatisfactory…?
His King thought he’d left without saying anything over pulled noodles…?
No matter which way Xiang Fe cycled Mobei-Jun’s words through his brain, he couldn’t make any sense of them right way around, upside down, or backwards.
“Fine,” said Mobei-Jun. “I’ll make them again. Follow me.”
Mobei-Jun then began dragging Xiang Fe to the door with quick steps, leaving all of Xiang Fe’s things behind him.
“My Ki—my King!” Xiang Fe wailed. He dug his heels into the plush lounge carpet and leaned his weight back as far as he could. It only slowed Mobei-Jun marginally. “Ow, fuck. Stop already! I said, Stop!!”
Mobei-Jun stopped, and his eyebrows pinched together at the red marks that were starting to show on Xiang Fe’s wrists already. He loosened his grip marginally. “You won’t let me?”
Xiang Fe felt like he was about to pass out from shock. That is, if he’d ever actually recovered from it and been discharged from the hospital in the first place. Between the horror movie level scare minutes ago and Mobei-Jun’s odd words, Xiang Fe was starting to think the only explanation was that the past day had all been some kind of drug-induced hallucination. Shit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamed of writing 18,000 characters and woken up to an empty page.
Mobei-Jun’s mouth twisted in anger, and when he spoke, his voice was gruff. “I beat you three times a day. I became Lord. I saved your life. You still never acknowledge my advances,” he said, jaw ticking. “I act pathetic. Follow human courting. Insult my status and ask you to hit me. Still, you never acknowledge.”
“Never refuse. Never accept. I thought you were willfully ignorant,” continued Mobei-Jun, an ice-cold glint of blue flashing through his eyes. “But then, you returned to the Northern Desert with me. The person you asked to make you pulled noodles was me. You renewed your vow that you would follow me for the rest of your life.”
Xiang Fe’s heart was pounding. Not for the usual reason of fearing for his life, but an unfamiliar type of feeling that made his insides squirm. The thought that maybe he should start breathing again soon vaguely passed through his mind, but he didn’t want to risk breaking the illusion. Whatever was happening right now, he didn’t want it to be a hallucination. Nor some stupid wife plot or System quest.
His mouth gaped uselessly. Silently repeating words like “courting” and “advances”.
Seeing this, Mobei-Jun exhaled through his nose. While the set of his shoulders remained stiff and unyielding, he was no longer meeting Xiang Fe’s eyes. “You still won’t answer.”
When Shang Qinghua hadn’t answered him back then—hadn’t outright denied him—, Mobei-Jun had taken that as permission to return him to their home. Now, when Mobei-Jun didn’t receive an answer, he gradually loosened his grip around the other man’s wrists. Though he still couldn’t quite bring himself to completely let go.
Xiang Fe’s mouth was dry. His King wasn’t—no, this really couldn’t—but it had to be, didn’t it? He frantically searched his King’s face for any clue that might lead to an alternate explanation. A logical explanation. Some leftover pollen stuck to Mobei-Jun’s clothes. A curse mark. A suspiciously large bump on his King’s (or frankly his own) head.
If both of Xiang Fe’s arms hadn’t still been restrained, he would have pinched himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Or maybe he would even pinch Mobei-Jun’s cheeks again—if he was feeling like pushing his luck.
Which maybe Xiang Fe did. Maybe today was the luckiest day of his life.
Xiang Fe licked his lips. “I’ll answer.”
The glare Mobei-Jun gave him in return made his King look downright bullied.
“Stop.”
Xiang Fe felt giddy with power. “I mean it. Ask,” he said.
Mobei-Jun eyed him warily, mouth screwed into a tight, thin line. Unphased, Xiang Fe beamed up at him.
Unbeknownst to them, an unaccompanied minor and certified second-generation rich kid took one look at what was going on in the lounge area and slowly backed away. He’d find somewhere else to catch up on Proud Immortal Demon Way’s latest updates.
“What should I do?” Mobei-Jun asked, his pupils blown wide.
“Kiss me.”
For a single second, Mobei-Jun did nothing. His expression was as perfectly preserved as an ice sculpture. Xiang Fe felt his heartbeat stutter. But before he could start groveling or begging his King’s forgiveness for being so presumptuous, Mobei-Jun’s lips were meeting his.
The crash of fangs and muscles and claws nearly overwhelmed him. Xiang Fe’s lips were definitely bruised, and their teeth had clacked together more than once. Mobei-Jun had dropped Xiang Fe’s wrists and was holding his waist firmly instead. His king's claws were needing at the skin there in a way that Xiang Fe knew would cause the muscle to be sore tomorrow. The thought alone had him gasping into the next kiss.
Mobei-Jun licked at the seam of Xiang Fe’s lips only to pull away with a small frown. He tasted blood. “My fangs.”
Xiang Fe made a displeased noise and simply gripped Mobei-Jun tighter by the collar of his robes. “Again,” he demanded.
His King complied. This time, with fewer teeth. Xiang Fe smiled into the kiss.
A chime sounded through the airport’s sound system, abruptly reminding Xiang where they were, and he begrudgingly pulled away—not that Mobei-Jun’s hands on his hips let him go far. They were both breathing heavier than they should be.
Xiang Fe felt like his heart might burst. Mobei-Jun had given him an inch yet again. Could he take a mile?
“Marry me,” Xiang Fe blurted out. His King’s hands spasmed. “I mean—“
Mobei-Jun cut Xiang Fe off before he could get started. “—Yes.”
Xiang Fe’s mind blue-screened. “Cool, cool, cool. Cool. So cool. Very cool, my King.”
The tips of Mobei-Jun’s eyebrows raised a touch higher, which to Xiang Fe meant his King was looking unbearably smug. Then his eyes turned sharp. “You will not leave without me again.”
Xiang Fe blanched. They were still in a fucking airport.
"So, my King, the thing about that is..."
It turned out that, with a little communication, what Xiang Fe had thought to be a problem wasn’t actually a problem at all.
While he’d sometimes fantasized about what it would be like to show Mobei-Jun different things in the modern world, the reality was quite underwhelming. What was so impressive or confusing about an international airport when Mobei-Jun himself led large-scale spirit beast formations into battle as Luo Binghe’s right-hand? If anything, the concept seemed a little backward to him with all the ineffective security measures.
A mere 30 minutes after Xiang Fe’s explanation, Mobei-Jun returned to the lounge wearing a sharp suit, holding a valid photo ID, and saying that he’d been able to swap his ticket so that they could sit next to each other on the flight. Mobei-Jun looked really, really good in a suit.
After confirming that Mobei-Jun didn’t do anything like murder or arson, well… Xiang Fe didn’t ask too many more questions.
Except for maybe one.
Xiang Fe shamelessly clung to Mobei-Jun’s side as they waited for their boarding zone to be called. “Hey, my King! Now that we’re engaged and all, I think it’s only fair that we know some personal things about each other. Like, say… what are your thoughts on role play?”
They didn’t make their flight.