And that's honestly the only reason he tolerates it. It's not intentional and he knows that, but it doesn't change the fact his husband drives him up the wall on the daily basis. Still his hands move, working open Wei Ying's jeans.

Stand and stay on your feet. It's sharp, his fingers pulling those jeans open as soon as he does before he drops in front of Wei Ying, taking him into his mouth with one quick motion, his tongue dragging over the underside as his hands slide up over Wei Ying's hips.

I know. But it doesn't change the fact you do this to yourself, Wei Ying.