Another strangled curse as Guangyao tosses his head, pressing back against the bed. He feels impatient and wild, his limbs moving easily however Xichen wants him. There’s barely even a stretch at the way his leg hops over Xichen’s shoulder.

His face burns red; he’s fairly sure he’ll never get used to Xichen talking so filthily, even if this is comparatively tame. He presses back against the finger, mouth forming a pout.

“I want it. A-Huan, I want you inside so much. I want it to stretch me open, I want to never forget the shape of you.” His voice was breathless but nonetheless sincere in its pleading. Logically he knows this has to be taken at least somewhat slowly, but he wants it now, dammit!