( He eyes him half wary, half still interested, falling easily into an affected air of disgruntled. Lan Xichen came, that evidence is currently coating Wen Kexing's inner thighs in ample qualities. He shouldn't still be hard, and yet. ) Oh, don't cajole me. ( Fussy, even though he's leaning over to stroke a fingertip up the length, curiosity sharp-edged, swollen bottom lip pulled between his own teeth. ) We're not all virgins, or ah - I took care of that, didn't I?

( Wicked grin thrown almost childishly out, as Wen Kexing stretches languid, flopping on to his back. The bed is already a state, and he hums, a hand on his stomach before he glances sidelong again, lingering on the slick red shape of Lan Xichen's cock. )

Ah, pitiful. You can fuck my thighs, if you'd like. But you're cleaning up after. Take responsibility.

( He rolls to his side, facing away. It's the same show of trust as letting himself be fucked is, but he pretends it's easy, stretching once more with a hum, spine cracking. Muscles shift underneath lightly scarred skin, but he makes no move to hide those either. How easily he's dropped his defences, or maybe better yet, how Lan Xichen slipped beneath them. ) Well?