Lan Zhan hums around Wei Ying, not wanting him to stop, wanting to swallow him down like he had failed to do the first time. Wei Ying's fingers are buried in his hair and it's wonderful, he wants him to tighten his grip. Maybe he will tell him so, later. Maybe he will ask Wei Ying to touch his hair, again like this.

He sucks hard, trying to coordinate the motion with pressing the correct spot inside, hoping to feel Wei Ying shake apart.

The idea that they have all night, many nights to spend like this is heady and feels dangerous.