( He's flustered, face flushed, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Lan Xichen is a little like a hurricane and Wen Kexing, who'd assumed he had strong, solid foundations, can do nothing but be rocked by it. He grabs Lan Xichen's arm when he leans in, sweaty palms sliding against his muscles, squeezing. He wants to keep touching, wants to leave bruises, wants a lot of greedy, reckless things. )
Ha.
( The compliments aren't needed, or at least not usually. They sound a little more earnest from a man like Lan Xichen, and so he's desperately trying to remind himself not to fall under the spell, watching him from underneath fluttering, dark eyelashes. ) Stop talking, kiss me.
( The hand moves, buries itself into Lan Xichen's hair, dragging him down into an open mouthed kiss, eager, desperate, his knees pressing into the other man's thigh, nails scraping at the nape of his neck. If he's bothered by where Lan Xichen's mouth has been he doesn't show it, sliding his tongue into the heat of his mouth with eager abandon, slick and firm, a hum of pleasure purred between them. )
no subject
Ha.
( The compliments aren't needed, or at least not usually. They sound a little more earnest from a man like Lan Xichen, and so he's desperately trying to remind himself not to fall under the spell, watching him from underneath fluttering, dark eyelashes. ) Stop talking, kiss me.
( The hand moves, buries itself into Lan Xichen's hair, dragging him down into an open mouthed kiss, eager, desperate, his knees pressing into the other man's thigh, nails scraping at the nape of his neck. If he's bothered by where Lan Xichen's mouth has been he doesn't show it, sliding his tongue into the heat of his mouth with eager abandon, slick and firm, a hum of pleasure purred between them. )