"There are cushions," Huaisang says, shivering with pleasure as those fingers wander up and down his back. His eyes close blissfully, body trembling at the exquisite ticklishness of it. "Rugs. Couches. You just have to pick a good spot."

Smiling invitingly as he enjoys the light embrace, Huaisang brushes the tip of his nose against Doul's, sweetly flirtatious. "I thought you were going to start with ravishing me against a wall."