Chapter Text
Mobei-jun hated hosting banquets for the demonic elite on a good day. And this was decidedly not a good day.
His heat was about to start any day now, and yet here he was standing petulantly in the corner watching Shang Qinghua scurry back and forth across the banquet hall, bossing around the busy servants. In his personal opinion, this much preparation was unnecessary, but Shang Qinghua seemed to take offense whenever Mobei-jun had told him in the past to just leave event planning to the head servants. So instead of entertaining Mobei-jun with his presence, the man had been micromanaging every step, because apparently diplomacy hinged on choosing the correct table cloth.
Trying to get his attention had been near impossible this whole week. Even his attempts to order him to attend to him were ineffective. He would pop up for a moment before inevitably catching sight of a demon lugging a vase of flowers in that would then send him squawking after the demon about how it would “incite a war” or something.
Mobei-jun probably hadn’t even had a full hour of Shang Qinghua’s full attention since preparation started. It was driving him crazy. Not to mention his pre-heat symptoms were kicking in. He was normally irritable during this phase, but after experiencing week long Qinghua deprivation, his bad mood was unmistakable. The household’s servants had been giving him a wide berth and trying to hide how they wrinkled their noses whenever they had to get within smelling distance. Of course, Shang Qinghua didn’t notice though. That stupid beta had been with him for years and yet never seemed to pick up on his pheromones. He had to have the least sensitive nose in the world with how any and all scent based social cues went over his head. Even the beta demons working in the palace had more awareness. But no, Shang Qinghua just went on ignoring his king to fuss over table arrangements.
At this point, Mobei-jun had given up on trying to get Shang Qinghua to look his way. He just crossed his arms over his chest and stared at that little man run around. Staring didn’t help alleviate the pit in his stomach, but it eased the panic that swept through him during preheat, when he had no clue where his human was. So he just leaned more resolutely against the wall and gazed after him.
Shang Qinghua’s hair was a frazzled mess with curls sticking up awkwardly where he had shoved his calligraphy brush. It was still dripping ink, marring that light blue outer robe he wore. He didn’t seem to notice, wholly engrossed in gesticulating with his hands as he discussed the menu with one of the cooks. The cook had brought over some samples of a sweet local delicacy harvested from a fruit tree native to the Northern Desert. Shang Qinghua took the frosty yellow fruit from the demon with his graceful fingers. Mobei-jun glared harder, watching as he stuck out his pink tongue to tentatively lick the soft fruit before sucking it into his mouth. He made an appreciative sound and licked the juice that had dripped down his hand from the sweet melting fruit. He then clapped the demon on the back enthusiastically and babbled about approving the dessert, but Mobei-jun could barely hear over the blood roaring in his ears. His heat had surged suddenly and he didn’t need to turn his nose to the air to know that the bitter acrid scent he had been giving off all morning just spiked with sweetness.
Whipping his fur coat around he swiftly marched out of the hall without a look back. His omega status wasn’t a secret among the staff, but being caught being pathetic over Qinghua was too much for his pride to handle.
Storming to his private quarters, Mobei-jun gnashed his teeth in frustration. His fangs had gotten more tender and prominent from his hormones spiking, and all he wanted to do right now was use Shang Qinghua as a chew toy in retaliation for ignoring him.
Once he was safely in his bedroom he strode over to the nest he had constructed carefully once his pre-heat started. For a brief time, he had been teleporting around the palace grabbing items for the nest in the same meticulous way that Shang Qinghua had been preparing for hosting. Reclining into the soft furs and silky sheets finally brought him some relaxation. Albeit the effectiveness of his nest at soothing him was likely due in large part to the handful of robes he had discretely snatched from Shang Qinghua and woven into the fabric of his nest. The light scent of the beta interspersed with ink, parchment, and melon seeds gave the illusion that the human was near. Luxuriating in feeling comfortable for the first time all day, Mobei-jun stretched his back like a big cat and curled up in his nest for a nap, banquet be damned.
The demon realm didn’t have a hierarchy based on second gender. Power was all that mattered. That being said, in traditional courting, omegas were supposed to demonstrate that they could overpower their prospective mate. Shows of strength were integral to displaying that the omega was capable of protecting the family and yielding strong offspring. Scent blockers and suppressants were virtually never used by high level demons, because hiding scent was viewed as an overly weak, deceitful, human thing to do. Mobei-jun didn’t quite understand how human second genders worked, since they seemed to hide their instincts with medicine and odd social customs whenever possible. It was strange. Most human cultivators that he fought were noticeably alphas or betas, while most human omegas in the cultivation world were usually steeped so deep in pills that their scent was indistinguishable from that of a beta. Much like most things with humans, they dealt with second genders by hiding away true intentions.
If not for having spent decades with Shang Qinghua fielding failure after failure to court him, Mobei-jun would gladly go on ignoring the silly rules humans have. But he was starting to feel a bit desperate. His human had stayed with him loyally for so long without once straying and yet he still has to spend his heats alone! Not to mention that the longer this ambiguous relationship had gone on for, the more painful his heats got. Upon waking up from his nap, he could already feel cramps curling their claws into his stomach in preparation for what was undoubtedly going to be an agonizing heat.
At this rate he was going to have to get some counsel on how the hell human omegas get a mate, because clearly Shang Qinghua had been unreceptive to his attempts to show that he is a powerful provider through his battle prowess, being able to beat him up, and his high status within demon society. Luckily, Sha Hualing and Luo Binghe would be attending the banquet. They, of all demons, should have some insight on how to get into the sheets of human cultivators, although their advice is likely to be delivered through snide comments.