[LYB] Behind Closed Doors (1/?)
Remember that time I mentioned what if Prince Qi disciplines his little brother and xiao shu creatively? yeah. much in love wt the idea of a dark!Prince Qi and whumped jingyan.
Fandom: Nirvana in Fire / Langya Bang
Rating: NC17
Characters/Pairing: Prince Qi/Xiao Jingyan/Lin Shu
Warning: BDSM, half-siblings/cousin incest (because this is LYB, you really can’t escape it), and mention of figging.
Pale fingers slide over soft strings of the qin, the barest touch of skin on silk producing the gentlest music known to man. It is the highest form of grace he can ever instill into the boys. For Lin Shu, this is the pinnacle of his efforts to stay on his knees long enough without causing any trouble.
Xiao Jingyu’s fingers tap to the harmony, mentally counting the seconds between each resounding note. He has tasked Jingyan to write the poem to be paired with the melody Lin Shu has composed, but judging from the tearful whimpers coming from the innermost chamber of his personal quarters, the poem may not be completed until tomorrow morning.
The melody breaks by the wrongful pluck of a string. Jingyu opens his eyes and sees Lin Shu staring wide-eyed at the qin as if it has betrayed him, poised hand frozen mid-air. The whimpering stops as well.
Slowly, with fluid ease, Jingyu rises from his seat and walks over to stand behind Lin Shu, whose back instantly straightens as expensive silk brushes against warm skin.
“Again,” he orders the boy.
Shakily, Lin Shu brings down his hand and repeats from his slip. This time, he ends without another flaw to the melody.
The last note resonates with a haunting echo that reaches to the farthest back of the Prince Qi’s quarters.
Jingyu hums, body swaying lightly to the ghost of the melody as he steps around Lin Shu, hands clasped behind his back. He observes the tautness of Lin Shu’s shoulders, back ramrod straight, thighs straining from being in the same position for hours and socked feet not even moving a toe. He wonders if the boy can still feel his legs, if those thighs will sway once he rises to his knees and crawl his way towards the inner chamber where Jingyan is waiting.
As if remembering his poor little brother, Jingyu goes to where he has kept the boy in, past the pair of half-open paper-screen doors and into his bedroom, and is greeted by the sight of a very flushed Jingyan trembling on the bed, wrists bound above his head by satin rope, its twins meanwhile keeping his legs spread open, bony ankles bound to the bed posts, cock full and leaking pre-cum against his belly.
At the sight of his brother, Jingyan’s ass clenches around the finger of ginger root Jingyu had inserted before he made Lin Shu perform his musical assignment. The burn must have completely dissipated by now, leaving nothing behind but a terrible ache and soreness that begs to be soothed. With tearful eyes, Jingyan pleads for his forgiveness, to which Jingyu only responds with a quirk of his lips and a sharp call of Lin Shu’s name.
With the same languid steps, he walks to the bedside cabinet and pulls open the first drawer, revealing a wide array of whips and crops used exclusively in his quarters. He picks the one with a bendy leather body but a stiff, flattened tip, a personal favorite of his whenever Jingyan is being too adorable for his own good.
He stands before Jingyan’s open legs, testing the swing of the crop against his palm, and smiles. Xiao Jingyu is quite pleased with his handiwork.
Fandom: Nirvana in Fire / Langya Bang
Rating: NC17
Characters/Pairing: Prince Qi/Xiao Jingyan/Lin Shu
Warning: BDSM, half-siblings/cousin incest (because this is LYB, you really can’t escape it), and mention of figging.
Pale fingers slide over soft strings of the qin, the barest touch of skin on silk producing the gentlest music known to man. It is the highest form of grace he can ever instill into the boys. For Lin Shu, this is the pinnacle of his efforts to stay on his knees long enough without causing any trouble.
Xiao Jingyu’s fingers tap to the harmony, mentally counting the seconds between each resounding note. He has tasked Jingyan to write the poem to be paired with the melody Lin Shu has composed, but judging from the tearful whimpers coming from the innermost chamber of his personal quarters, the poem may not be completed until tomorrow morning.
The melody breaks by the wrongful pluck of a string. Jingyu opens his eyes and sees Lin Shu staring wide-eyed at the qin as if it has betrayed him, poised hand frozen mid-air. The whimpering stops as well.
Slowly, with fluid ease, Jingyu rises from his seat and walks over to stand behind Lin Shu, whose back instantly straightens as expensive silk brushes against warm skin.
“Again,” he orders the boy.
Shakily, Lin Shu brings down his hand and repeats from his slip. This time, he ends without another flaw to the melody.
The last note resonates with a haunting echo that reaches to the farthest back of the Prince Qi’s quarters.
Jingyu hums, body swaying lightly to the ghost of the melody as he steps around Lin Shu, hands clasped behind his back. He observes the tautness of Lin Shu’s shoulders, back ramrod straight, thighs straining from being in the same position for hours and socked feet not even moving a toe. He wonders if the boy can still feel his legs, if those thighs will sway once he rises to his knees and crawl his way towards the inner chamber where Jingyan is waiting.
As if remembering his poor little brother, Jingyu goes to where he has kept the boy in, past the pair of half-open paper-screen doors and into his bedroom, and is greeted by the sight of a very flushed Jingyan trembling on the bed, wrists bound above his head by satin rope, its twins meanwhile keeping his legs spread open, bony ankles bound to the bed posts, cock full and leaking pre-cum against his belly.
At the sight of his brother, Jingyan’s ass clenches around the finger of ginger root Jingyu had inserted before he made Lin Shu perform his musical assignment. The burn must have completely dissipated by now, leaving nothing behind but a terrible ache and soreness that begs to be soothed. With tearful eyes, Jingyan pleads for his forgiveness, to which Jingyu only responds with a quirk of his lips and a sharp call of Lin Shu’s name.
With the same languid steps, he walks to the bedside cabinet and pulls open the first drawer, revealing a wide array of whips and crops used exclusively in his quarters. He picks the one with a bendy leather body but a stiff, flattened tip, a personal favorite of his whenever Jingyan is being too adorable for his own good.
He stands before Jingyan’s open legs, testing the swing of the crop against his palm, and smiles. Xiao Jingyu is quite pleased with his handiwork.