( Affection is a strange thing, rarely felt for anyone beyond Gu Xiang. But he feels it then, with Lan Xichen laughing against his skin, his own body a brilliant bruised ache of want. It's so surprising that he lets himself be pulled along, rearranged, pet like a housecat, draped over jade skin. His breathing takes a long time to settle, every time he thinks it might a little aftershock tingles throughout him, or another slow wave of fondness slips through his veins and it speeds right back up again.
Oh, Wen Kexing thinks, I like him.
He keeps the thought to himself though, instead petting at the firm chest beneath his cheek. ) Good boy. ( A little mumble. ) Well done.
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Oh, Wen Kexing thinks, I like him.
He keeps the thought to himself though, instead petting at the firm chest beneath his cheek. ) Good boy. ( A little mumble. ) Well done.