Huaisang's eyes widen a little in surprised pleasure as he realizes that Doul's praising his cock as pretty. He agrees, but he's not used to hearing it. "Are you a poet, my mercenary?" he asks, shivering at the warm breath against his skin, still damp from Doul's kisses and licks.

Cupping Doul's cheek in his hand, Huaisang smiles warm and fond down at him in return. "All this time we've spent on strategy. Perhaps we'll have to spend more time on poetry from now on."