Wei Ying's panting and breathless, splayed shamelessly across bed. He gives a pathetic little whimper when Lan Zhan finally stops, instinctively reaching out with the fuzzy thought of pulling his husband back down on top of him. The plea to just be fucked until he's numb is about to spill from his lips when he catches himself.

Oh. Right. He wanted to try being inside Lan Zhan for a change.

He sits up, face flushed, and grabs his husband's chin, turning his face toward his before kissing him with bruising intensity. Wei Ying's reaches down with his free hand to wrap it around Lan Zhan's cock, stroking him intently.