He is surrounded by Xue Yang. The heat of him. His scent. The taste of his lips and his tongue. Zichen hugs him tightly, wanting him to stay, always stay, and he dares this world or any other to try to pry them apart. The good man his husband has become belongs to him and Xingchen; no one else can intrude.

"Only warm and fed?" he queries, kissing those tempting lips slowly, playfully, tugging on Xue Yang's lower lip, "You want nothing else?"