Demons are cold-blooded,
so why is his touch so warm..?
———
The fire crackled, sending tiny embers dancing into the night air.
Shang Qinghua sat motionless, his fingers still pressed to his forehead where Mobei-Jun had kissed him.
His heart had yet to slow down.
Across from him, Mobei-Jun was tending to the fire like nothing had happened, his expression as unreadable as ever.
The contrast was unfair—Shang Qinghua was practically melting in his chair, and Mobei was just... sitting there. Acting normal.
Like he hadn't just done something devastatingly soft.
Shang Qinghua swallowed, clearing his throat.
"You, uh… You sure have a weird way of showing affection, huh?"
Mobei-Jun didn't respond immediately.
He merely stirred the embers with a stick before finally glancing over. "Is that what it was?"
Shang Qinghua nearly choked on his own spit.
"Wha—? Y-You don't even know what you're doing?!"
Mobei-Jun frowned.
"You keep making strange expressions."
"That's cause you —!" He shut his mouth up, pressing his hands against his flushed face.
No, no, he was not about to sit here and list off the things Mobei-Jun had done to him in the past few hours.
The biting, the licking, the overwhelming dominance… And now this? A forehead kiss so gentle it made his chest ache?
Absolutely unfair.
A heavy silence settled between them again, broken only by the fire and the distant rustling of leaves.
Qinghua exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself.
"Hey, King."
"Hm?"
"Back then, ten years ago… You felt something familiar about me, right?"
Mobei-Jun gave a slight nod.
"...Do you feel it now?" Qinghua asked carefully, watching him. "That familiarity?"
Mobei-Jun was quiet for a long moment before he finally said, "No."
Qinghua's stomach twisted. "Oh."
"But," Mobei continued, his gaze fixed on him, sharp and unwavering, "I know you now."
Qinghua blinked.
The weight of those words settled over him like a blanket, warm and suffocating at the same time.
It was such a simple statement, yet it made his chest tighten.
He had spent years pining after this cold, unreadable demon, thinking he was just some expendable side character in Mobei-Jun's long life.
But now…
Now, Mobei-Jun was looking at him like he was something irreplaceable.
"You—You can't just say stuff like that so casually, you know?" Qinghua muttered, rubbing his face.
"Do you even know what that means?"
Mobei-Jun tilted his head slightly.
"You talk too much."
"Wha—!?"
Before he could properly react, Mobei-Jun was in front of him again, leaning down, his large hand gripping the back of Qinghua's chair as he caged him in.
His icy gaze was locked onto Qinghua's lips this time, his expression unreadable—but there was a glint in his eyes, something dark, something possessive.
Qinghua barely had time to process before Mobei's lips crashed against his.
The kiss was nothing like the tender forehead kiss from earlier—this was demanding, hungry, claiming.
Qinghua gasped against his mouth, his fingers instinctively grasping at Mobei's robes as the demon pushed further, deepening the kiss.
He tasted faintly of the hot chocolate they had shared, mixed with something entirely his own.
Mobei's hand slid to Qinghua's nape, tilting his head as he sucked lightly on his bottom lip, drawing out a quiet whimper that Qinghua immediately wanted to take back.
His entire body felt hot, feverish, like he was about to melt into Mobei-Jun's hold.
When Mobei finally pulled away, his breath ghosted over Qinghua's lips. His voice was low, rough.
"That means you're mine."
Shang Qinghua's brain short-circuited.
Oh.
Oh, he's so doomed.
Shang Qinghua sat there, dazed, lips tingling from the force of Mobei-Jun's kiss.
His heart was beating so fast he swore it might burst out of his chest.
That means you're mine.
Mobei-Jun's words echoed in his mind like a curse, sending a shiver down his spine.
Since when was this demon so… direct?!
"You—You can't just say that!" Shang Qinghua stammered, pressing a hand to his lips as if that would somehow erase what had just happened.
Mobei-Jun straightened, looming over him as usual, his icy blue eyes unwavering.
"Why not?"
"Because!" Qinghua gestured wildly.
"Because that—that's a confession!
That's serious!"
Mobei-Jun didn't even blink. "It is serious."
Qinghua froze.
The fire crackled between them, casting flickering shadows across Mobei's sharp features.
His usual unreadable expression hadn't changed, but there was a quiet intensity in his gaze that made Qinghua's stomach flip.
He wasn't joking.
"You…" Qinghua swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "You really mean it?"
Mobei-Jun gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Qinghua's brain went into full meltdown mode.
His entire existence had been built around surviving in a ridiculous novel, avoiding death, and occasionally thirsting over this cold-faced demon lord from afar. But never—never had he expected to actually be wanted back.
Letting out a weak laugh, running a shaky hand through his hair.
"Hah… well, that's… something, alright."
Mobei-Jun tilted his head slightly, studying him. Then, without warning, he reached down and lifted Qinghua up—blanket and all—like he weighed nothing.
"K-King! What are you doing?!"
"You're cold," Mobei said simply.
Qinghua blinked. What.
Sure, it was a bit chilly now that the fire had died down, but—
His thoughts cut off as Mobei-Jun sat down, shifting Qinghua onto his lap, wrapping his arms securely around him.
The warmth of Mobei's body pressed against his back, solid and unyielding, while his large hands rested possessively around Qinghua's waist.
"Wh—Mobei! You can't just—!" Qinghua sputtered, squirming uselessly.
"Stay still," Mobei ordered, his breath warm against Qinghua's ear.
Qinghua did not stay still.
He flailed. He struggled. He tried to pry the demon's hands off, but Mobei-Jun's grip didn't budge an inch.
"This is kidnapping!" Qinghua whined, wriggling in his grasp.
"You're mine," Mobei repeated firmly, pulling him closer.
Qinghua stiffened.
The words sent an electric shock straight to his heart. His face burned hotter than the fire, and he suddenly became painfully aware of how close they were.
His back was pressed against Mobei's broad chest, his legs half-draped over the demon's thighs, and their fingers were practically touching where they rested against his stomach.
This was… This was too much!
Mobei-Jun was not supposed to be this affectionate! Where was the usual cold, ruthless demon lord?! Where was the aloof, tsundere ice block?! Why was he acting like some possessive, doting lover all of a sudden?!
Qinghua's head spun. He could hear Mobei's slow, steady breaths behind him, feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back.
His body heat seeped through the blanket, wrapping around Qinghua like an inescapable trap.
He was so doomed.
His voice came out weak, barely a whisper.
"...What am I supposed to do with you?"
Mobei-Jun didn't answer right away. Instead, his grip around Qinghua tightened slightly, his chin resting lightly atop Qinghua's head.
"You don't have to do anything," he murmured.
"Just stay."
Qinghua felt something in his chest tighten—something dangerously close to longing.
His fingers clenched the edges of the blanket, and for the first time, he didn't fight it.