Xingchen does not hesitate to melt into his arms. It has been so long since he has allowed himself to dream of moments like this. It doesn't take more than three or four steady heartbeats beneath his ear that he makes a small noise.

Because there is no other peaceful existence other than when he can hear this, all over again.

Xingchen turns his head and cautiously, lightly brushes his teeth against the skin on the side of A-Lan's throat. An experiment, to try to gauge if it is acceptable or too much. The scent of this man's warm skin soaks into him, and it is - perfect.

"It - you'll stay? Tonight?" It has been a long time since he has known hope, but this, now - his voice can't help echoing a shard of it.