He doesn't know, he doesn't know what he wants. He wants too many things to even narrow it down but that permission, anything, makes him think of things even he had found shocking. He wants those things.

His grip tightens further as he stands with Wei Ying's legs still around his hips, letting his robe fall away to the grass. They need the bed for these things, privacy.

"Wei Ying doesn't know the things I want," he warns, carrying him over to their temporary bed.