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[This is soft. Shi Qingxuan isn't used to tenderness.

And it's over before he can blink in response, the sweep of hair and fabric pulling away just as he tilts his chin up for more. His lips still tingle from the contact, little pricks of pleasure yet to dissipate.

His hands are on Huaisang's face before he knows it, fingertips doing away with the budding tears, plump with roundness before they can roll off each cheekbones. It's sticky work, grounding him even as the blood is thudding in his ears at Huaisang's revelation. None of this is right. None of this has gone the way it should have been in the end. He could taste Huaisang's own helplessness on his tongue, and it's bitter.

Suddenly, he is aware once more of his immense luck. If anything, Qingxuan has never been physically alone. The desire for companionship eats away at him like rapid fire feasting on dry wood.]

May I, Nie-xiong? [His desires are not wholly selfless, damp hands alighting on Huaisang's shoulders.] I won't be a burden, I promise you! I can't cook, but we could purchase our food. And I'm not so dreadful with a broom, either! You will never find a better drinking companion than me.

[He winks, red rimmed eyes sparking with mirth after all.]

You would do well to have the lord of Fortune in your household, after all.