Yes, I - I want you. I want you to touch me, to have me, completely, I - I’m yours, a-Huan.

[ There’s no room for embarrassment or shame when he is bared like this, when Xichen’s hand is reaching down and wrapping around him, already beginning to give more pleasure than he could’ve guessed. It feels so different from his own hand, his own touch, that it’s too much.

It feels like he’ll lose himself and come too soon: it’s to mortifying. He has to let this last longer, has to let this be drawn out, be as perfect as possible. ]

I want to come for you.