Lan Zhan complies, rolling his hips down as he fulfills his promise to mark Wei Ying, biting high on his neck where robes will not touch. He wants this on display, unable to be easily covered and unable to mistake for anything else.

He yanks his hair out of its knot, letting it spill down once again. "Your hands in my hair," he demands as he sucks at Wei Ying's soft skin. "But hold it tight."

He grabs at the oil, pulling it closer. He is uncertain Wei Ying is truly ready for all they can do, but this can be useful in many ways.