[the more Lan Wangji touches him the more of a mess he is, arching into his hands, letting himself be speared through until it makes him dizzy with lust. his hands dig into his sides, scraping at scales and skin and the sensitive parts of his wings; his nails draw blood too easily like this, so he keeps the finer points of them scratching along scales when he remembers himself enough to. tries to memorize the shape of him moving up in him, how hot everything feels, how good it is to be so connected.

he still can't make himself open his eyes and look at Lan Wangji, too sure that it will undo him, but he's panting like he's getting closer, erratic and needy and desperate]

More, more, more...