The angle Wei Ying's head is turned makes it awkward to sustain so it winds up being very messy and brief, leaving a saliva trail dangling between their lips. His moans get louder as Lan Zhan strokes him, fluids already leaking from the sensitive tip.

Wei Ying rocks his hips backward into Lan Zhan's thrusts. The physical pleasure is nothing compared to the deep spiritual and emotional satisfaction he feels being with him like this. He's love in with this man. Why did it ever take him so long to figure it out?

The sensation of Lan Zhan's long, black hair caressing his sides with each movement is driving his greed for more, too.

"Lan Zhan, oh, Lan Zhan... Keep going just like that. Just don't stop whatever you do."