Lan Zhan calls upon all his considerable coordination when he slides his free hand underneath Wei Ying's hips and closes his fingers around him. He cannot move his arm at all, but his hand is slick and warm and he hopes it will be enough.

His other fingers are relentless, thrusting in over and over as he licks and makes noises against Wei Ying's skin more depraved than anything he's even imagined. It all blends with Wei Ying's guttural cries until it fills their home, kept private and just for them by their mostly finished walls.

He wants to learn more of this. He wants to learn every single way to undo Wei Ying, every way to claim him.