[ Xichen radiates affection, from his hugs to the kisses that plant in Wen Kexing's damp hair. Humming to placate the silly thing in his lap acting like it's in charge, he pats him on the thigh and gives a squeeze there; the fingers of his other hand slide back to where his cock is still buried, though softening, to rub around the sore rim clutching him tight. ]
Easy now, sit up. Let the water get to wherever it hurts.
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Easy now, sit up. Let the water get to wherever it hurts.