Well after that heavy talk, the two of them didn't have the heart to continue the night. Jian lay there flushed and restless, while Xing Yu, of all people, looked like he was sulking. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and when Jian finally asked, he only mumbled something about being incapable of answering his mate's questions and how that upset him.
The sight of the great general pouting like a scolded child made Jian chuckle despite himself. "You're ridiculous," he teased softly, his laughter breaking through the tension.
So the answers remained a mystery.
But not for long.
The very next morning, Jian stirred awake even before Xing Yu. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, then glanced back at the man sprawled there like a sculpture come to life—silver hair messy over the pillow, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. For a moment Jian just stared, lips parting unconsciously, before licking them nervously.
he really wanted to have sex....
