[It's impossible to match the punishing strength of Lan Zhan's body against his, skin already pink and tender in places that would surely bruise later, littering his body with the evidence of their affection. It's not that he regrets asking Lan Zhan to be more selfish, but the intensity of that newfound freedom shakes him. He's always been shameless, can he really be surprised at how his body reacts to this too?
He hears his name, again and again, and it's almost too much; he writhes and twists beneath Lan Zhan, a light sheen of sweat on his bare skin. He arches up against him, muscles drawn tight as Lan Zhan's fingers sink into the soft flesh of his throat; what was once dancing spots in his vision, is now a slowly closing tunnel as his head tilts back, and what ought to be a desperate wail is muted and rough against that pressure.
There's a wet heat against his cheek, and he tries to turn toward it, as much as that hand against his neck will allow, Lan Zhan's name a barely audible whisper on his lips.]
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He hears his name, again and again, and it's almost too much; he writhes and twists beneath Lan Zhan, a light sheen of sweat on his bare skin. He arches up against him, muscles drawn tight as Lan Zhan's fingers sink into the soft flesh of his throat; what was once dancing spots in his vision, is now a slowly closing tunnel as his head tilts back, and what ought to be a desperate wail is muted and rough against that pressure.
There's a wet heat against his cheek, and he tries to turn toward it, as much as that hand against his neck will allow, Lan Zhan's name a barely audible whisper on his lips.]