[ That bit of cheek earns him a hard bite, but then Lan Wangji lets go, only to rake Wei Ying over with his appreciative gaze. He's beautiful like this, and Lan Wangji is eager to get his robes off and look at him in his entirety, that broad chest that draws in the flat of his palm, fingers catching on his nipple, the flat of his stomach with all its hard work, the muscles of his thighs showing years of training.
He pries Wei Ying's legs apart, cracking his thighs open like a book, slotting himself and his full weight in between, bracketed by soft, warm skin. ]
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He pries Wei Ying's legs apart, cracking his thighs open like a book, slotting himself and his full weight in between, bracketed by soft, warm skin. ]
Do you still prefer that I meditate?