Huaisang's legs pin down Doul's upper arms, but he leaves Doul's hands free to touch, and it wouldn't be hard for those hands to stray to his hips, to grip possessively.

Gasping and laughing with pleasure at the kisses and licks that he receives so eagerly from his lover, Huaisang arches at the low rumble against his sensitive skin and that tickling rasp of Doul's stubble. "Doul!" he cries out, bright and happy, hips bucking a little as Doul's tongue teases him.