[ He sounds surprised, and Lan Wangji is wondering if Wei Ying hadn't even ever discovered a need to touch himself, to see what sort of things his body might like or not like when in a situation with a partner.
Lan Wangji had, of course, abstained; his will for Inquiry was strong but if he knew anyone with one stronger it would be Wei Ying, stubborn with head of iron. So perhaps he had been watching the whole time, and how pathetic would it have been, to snake a hand beneath his robes, to cry out the name of a dead man into the deafening quiet of the Jingshi?
No, he had only his imagination to keep him company. And it seems, so had Wei Ying.
His mouth lingers, but his hands slide down, catching on every groove of his abdomen cut by intake of breath, touch feather-light to tease out where he is sensitive. The curve under his chest? The dip in his oblique? Perhaps, the v that draws a line straight to his cock. ]
no subject
Lan Wangji had, of course, abstained; his will for Inquiry was strong but if he knew anyone with one stronger it would be Wei Ying, stubborn with head of iron. So perhaps he had been watching the whole time, and how pathetic would it have been, to snake a hand beneath his robes, to cry out the name of a dead man into the deafening quiet of the Jingshi?
No, he had only his imagination to keep him company. And it seems, so had Wei Ying.
His mouth lingers, but his hands slide down, catching on every groove of his abdomen cut by intake of breath, touch feather-light to tease out where he is sensitive. The curve under his chest? The dip in his oblique? Perhaps, the v that draws a line straight to his cock. ]