[ The easy grace that Lan Xichen moves with is astounding, and before Jiang Cheng could do anything to get himself up and off the ground there are arms around him, helping to urge him back to his feet. He feels briefly as if he’s an erstwhile child, ready to be scolded for running around inside, but he is nothing of the sort.
The powerful, proper touch of his husband inspires twin feelings in him: delight, that he is the chosen partner of such a man, and a shameful grief, knowing he would never be a suitable match. It is not just his lack of code that does it, but his nature and personality too, and now all he has is in this ma’s hands.
Swallowing his instinctive rage and hurt at the idea of a table besting him, he nods. Jiang Cheng lets himself enjoy the brief warmth of closeness before he leans back. ]
An accident, nothing else. I’m fine, Zewu-jun, don’t worry yourself about it.
[ Carefully, he steps around him, embarrassment making his cheeks hot, flushed red. ]
🥲🥹
The powerful, proper touch of his husband inspires twin feelings in him: delight, that he is the chosen partner of such a man, and a shameful grief, knowing he would never be a suitable match. It is not just his lack of code that does it, but his nature and personality too, and now all he has is in this ma’s hands.
Swallowing his instinctive rage and hurt at the idea of a table besting him, he nods. Jiang Cheng lets himself enjoy the brief warmth of closeness before he leans back. ]
An accident, nothing else. I’m fine, Zewu-jun, don’t worry yourself about it.
[ Carefully, he steps around him, embarrassment making his cheeks hot, flushed red. ]
I’ll tidy the mess.