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The rain had been drumming a steady, rhythmic beat against the dorm window for hours, the kind of grey, cozy afternoon that made the world outside feel miles away. Inside their room, the air was warm, smelling faintly of coffee and the distinct, clean scent of Tan’s cologne.
Fang was sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook, highlighter cap between his teeth as he squinted at a particularly dense diagram. He was wearing one of Tan’s oversized hoodies—it was grey and hung off one shoulder, swallowing his slender frame. It was a sight that made Tan’s chest tighten every single time he looked over.
Tan was lying on the bed, ostensibly scrolling through his phone, but in reality, he had been watching the way the overhead light caught in Fang’s hair for the last twenty minutes. He watched the way Fang tapped his pen against his chin when he was thinking, and the way he chewed on his lip when he was frustrated.
Finally, Tan couldn't take the distance anymore. He tossed his phone onto the mattress and sat up.
"Fang," Tan said, his voice low and soft.
Fang didn't turn around immediately. "Mmh? Just a second, I almost have this formula memorized."
"You said that ten minutes ago," Tan countered gently. He swung his legs off the bed and walked over, stopping right behind Fang’s chair.
Fang leaned back instinctively, his head bumping lightly against Tan’s stomach. He let out a sigh, dropping the highlighter. "It's hard. My brain feels like mush."
Tan hummed, a deep vibration that Fang felt through his back. He placed his hands on Fang’s shoulders, his thumbs instantly beginning to work out the tension that had gathered there. Fang groaned, his head falling forward, exposing the nape of his neck.
"You work too hard," Tan murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Fang’s head. "Someone needs to take care of you."
"I can take care of myself," Fang mumbled, though his eyes were closed, and he was practically melting under Tan’s touch.
"Sure you can," Tan teased, his hands sliding down Fang’s arms to lace their fingers together. "But you don't have to."
Tan tugged lightly, and Fang let himself be pulled up from the chair. He turned around, looking up at Tan with those wide, dark eyes that always made Tan feel like he was the only person in the universe. Fang reached up, grabbing the front of Tan’s shirt to pull him down into a kiss.
It started slow, just a gentle brushing of lips. But when Tan wrapped his arms around Fang’s waist, pulling him flush against his body, the heat between them spiked instantly. Tan took control of the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it, one hand coming up to cup the back of Fang’s neck, holding him steady.
Fang made a small, needy sound in the back of his throat, his hands clutching Tan’s shoulders. He loved this. He loved how solid Tan felt, how safe he was. When Tan held him like this, wrapping him up completely, Fang felt like he could stop thinking, stop worrying about exams or expectations. He could just feel.
Tan pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Fang’s. "You're distracted," he whispered, smiling.
"I am not," Fang lied, breathless.
"You are." Tan kissed the corner of his mouth. "Because I'm kissing you."
"Maybe," Fang admitted, a blush rising on his cheeks. He leaned his head onto Tan’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. It was his favorite sound.
"Come here," Tan said, steering them toward the bed.
They collapsed onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs. Tan maneuvered them so that Fang was resting his head on Tan’s chest, Tan’s arms wrapped securely around him, legs tangled together. It was their default position—the big spoon and the little spoon, though sometimes they just lay like this, face to face.
Fang nuzzled into the crook of Tan’s neck, pressing soft kisses there. "You're warm," he murmured.
"And you're freezing," Tan replied, pulling the blanket up over them both, tucking it in around Fang’s shoulders like a burrito. "Better?"
"Mmh." Fang closed his eyes, a sense of peace washing over him. "Tan?"
"Yeah, teerak?"
Fang hesitated, tracing a pattern on Tan’s chest with his finger. "Thanks. For... you know. Making me stop."
Tan kissed his forehead, his lips lingering there. "I’ve got you, Fang. Always. I know you carry a lot up here." Tan tapped Fang’s temple gently. "Let me carry some of it for a while."
Fang looked up, his eyes shining with affection. "You're cheesy."
"You love it."
"I do," Fang whispered. He shifted, climbing up slightly to kiss Tan again, slower this time, pouring everything he felt into it.
Tan’s hand slid down Fang’s back, resting possessively on his waist, grounding him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into Fang’s mouth, drawing a soft whimper from him. Tan loved how responsive Fang was, how he would just yield against him, letting Tan lead, letting Tan take care of him in every way.
When they finally broke apart, both flushed and smiling, Fang tucked his face back into Tan’s neck, hiding his shy smile.
"Sleepy?" Tan asked, rubbing his hand up and down Fang’s back soothingly.
"A little," Fang admitted, his voice already thick with sleep.
"Go to sleep, then. I'll be here when you wake up."
Fang mumbled something incoherent, his breathing already slowing down. Tan held him tighter, watching the rain continue to fall outside the window. The world could be chaotic and demanding out there, but in here, in their own little bubble, everything was perfect.
Tan looked down at Fang, who looked so small and peaceful in his arms. He pressed one last kiss to Fang’s hair, closing his own eyes and letting himself drift off, feeling incredibly lucky that he got to be the one who held Fang’s heart.
"Love you," Tan whispered into the quiet room.
Fang didn't wake up, but his hand curled tighter around Tan’s shirt, holding on, even in his dreams.
Hours later, the grey sky had cleared, leaving behind a brilliant, golden sunset that streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm, orange glow.
Fang stirred first, letting out a soft, contented hum as he stretched his limbs. He felt heavy and warm, anchored down by a weight across his waist. He blinked his eyes open to find Tan already awake, propped up on one elbow, staring down at him with an expression of such undisguised adoration that Fang immediately felt his cheeks heat up.
"Stop staring," Fang mumbled, voice raspy with sleep as he tried to hide his face in the pillow.
"Can't," Tan replied simply, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. He reached out with his free hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair away from Fang’s forehead. "You’re too pretty to look away from."
Fang groaned, turning his head back to glare at him, though there was no real heat behind it. "It’s too early for your pick-up lines. Or late. Whatever time it is."
"It's the perfect time for them," Tan disagreed. He shifted closer, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against Fang’s cheek. "Besides, I’m just stating facts. Look at you." His finger traced the slope of Fang’s nose. "Cute nose." Then his finger moved to Fang’s lips. "Cute mouth." He tapped the tip of Fang’s nose with his own. "Cute boyfriend."
"Tan, I swear—" Fang started, but he couldn't fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You love it," Tan teased, his voice dropping an octave, becoming that soft, rumbling baritone that always made Fang’s stomach flip.
Tan suddenly shifted, rolling over slightly to grab his phone from the nightstand. Before Fang could react, the shutter sound clicked.
"Tan!" Fang exclaimed, trying to snatch the phone, but Tan was faster. He held it up out of reach, laughing as Fang half-heartedly scrambled over him to get it.
"Delete it! I look messy!" Fang protested, his hair sticking up in every direction, eyes still puffy with sleep.
Tan locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the foot of the bed, wrapping both arms around Fang’s waist to pull him back down. Fang landed with a huff against Tan’s chest.
"You do not look messy," Tan said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached up to cup Fang’s face, his thumb stroking Fang’s cheekbone. "You look like art. I’m setting it as my wallpaper. Actually, I’m printing it out and framing it. I’m putting it on a billboard."
Fang buried his burning face in Tan’s neck, groaning. "You are the cheesiest person alive. Why do I put up with this?"
"Because you love me," Tan said, sounding entirely too smug. He squeezed Fang tighter, pressing a long, lingering kiss to the top of his head. "And because deep down, you know you're the lucky one."
Fang huffed a laugh against Tan’s skin. "Pretty sure I'm the lucky one? You’re the one who has to deal with me when I’m stressed."
"Deal with you?" Tan pulled back slightly so he could look Fang in the eye. His gaze was so intense, so full of love, that Fang felt breathless. "Fang, taking care of you isn't a chore. It’s my favorite hobby. I love being the one you come home to. I love being the one who gets to hold you when you're tired. I just... I love you. A lot."
Fang felt his heart swell, the familiar warmth spreading through his chest. He reached up, wrapping his arms around Tan’s neck and pulling him down until their foreheads rested together. "You’re so dramatic," Fang whispered, his eyes shimmering. "But I love you too. Even if you are a giant sap."
Tan grinned, and before Fang could say anything else, Tan captured his lips in a kiss that started sweet but quickly turned passionate. Tan’s hand slid into Fang’s hair, tilting his head back, deepening the kiss as if he was trying to pour every ounce of his feelings into it.
Fang melted into it, his fingers threading through the hair at the nape of Tan’s neck. He let Tan take the lead, letting himself be swept away by the intensity of the moment.
When they finally broke apart, both panting slightly, Tan didn't let go. He just rested his forehead against Fang’s again, his eyes closed.
" Fang?" Tan murmured.
"Yeah?"
"Can we stay here forever? Just like this?"
Fang smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Tan’s mouth. "We have classes tomorrow, Tan."
Tan groaned, burying his face in the crook of Fang’s neck. "Forget classes. Let’s run away. Build a cabin in the woods. I’ll carry you everywhere so your feet don't get tired."
Fang laughed, running his hand up and down Tan’s back soothingly. "Who is going to do the engineering to build the cabin?"
"You’re the smart one," Tan mumbled into his skin. "You’ll figure it out. I’ll just be there to look at you and bring you snacks."
"You're hopeless," Fang said, but he tightened his grip on Tan, holding him closer.
"I'm yours," Tan corrected, lifting his head to look at Fang with a soft, dopey smile. "Completely, totally, hopelessly yours."
Fang felt that swooping sensation in his stomach again. He leaned up and kissed Tan softly, chastely, on the lips. "Okay," he whispered against them. "Let's stay here a little longer. Just a little."
Tan beamed, tucking the blanket back around them like a cocoon. "Good. Because I wasn't planning on letting you go anyway."
Eventually, the grumbling of Fang’s stomach became impossible to ignore, breaking the spell of their cozy cocoon.
"Alright, alright," Fang sighed, trying to wriggle out of Tan’s grip. "I have to get up. I’m starving."
Tan made a noise of protest, tightening his arms around Fang’s waist like a koala refusing to let go of a tree. "No. Stay. I’ll go get the food. You stay here and look pretty."
Fang rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Tan, the kitchen is literally ten feet away. I can walk."
"Can you?" Tan raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You’re barely awake. Your legs might give out. It’s a safety hazard."
Fang deadpanned. "My legs are fine."
"Doesn't matter." Tan suddenly sat up, the movement so fluid that Fang let out a startled squeak. Before Fang could even process what was happening, Tan had slid one arm under his knees and the other behind his back, lifting him effortlessly into the air.
Fang automatically wrapped his arms around Tan’s neck, his eyes going wide. "Tan! Put me down!"
"Nope," Tan said, popping the 'p'. He stood up, holding Fang securely against his chest as if he weighed nothing more than a feather. "Princesses don't walk to the kitchen, Fang. They get carried."
"I am not a princess," Fang hissed, though he rested his head on Tan’s shoulder, secretly enjoying the way Tan’s muscles flexed slightly under his weight.
"You are today," Tan declared, carrying him across the room with exaggerated care, navigating around the pile of textbooks on the floor like he was stepping over lava. "Watch your head, door frame."
"I can see the door frame, Tan."
"Hush. Just let me pamper you."
Tan carried him all the way to the small kitchenette counter and gently set Fang down on the cool marble. He didn't step back, though; instead, he positioned himself between Fang’s knees, bracketing him in with his arms.
"Comfortable?" Tan asked, brushing a piece of hair behind Fang’s ear.
Fang looked down at him, feeling his cheeks heat up at the intensity of Tan's gaze. "It’s a bit high."
"Perfect height for me," Tan grinned shamelessly. He leaned in and kissed Fang, a quick, sweet peck on the lips. "Now, what does the royal highness desire? Spaghetti? Toast? Or maybe just some more kisses?"
Fang swatted at his chest, laughing. "Food. Actual food, please."
"Okay, okay. Spaghetti it is."
Tan turned to the stove, but he kept one hand on Fang’s knee, keeping physical contact as he started boiling water with his free hand. It was such a small thing, but it made Fang’s heart stutter. Tan cooked efficiently, keeping up a constant stream of chatter about how the sun was setting and how nice Fang looked in the hoodie.
A few minutes later, Tan placed a steaming bowl of instant ramen in front of Fang. But before Fang could reach for the chopsticks, Tan intercepted them.
"Wait," Tan said.
"I can feed myself, Tan," Fang said, giving him a look.
Tan blew on a strand of noodles, testing the temperature, and then held the chopsticks up to Fang’s mouth. "I know you can. But I want to."
"Tan..."
"Open up, teerak. Say 'ahh'."
Fang huffed, his face burning hotter than the steam rising from the bowl. He leaned forward and took the bite. It was good, of course. Tan always made sure the seasoning was exactly how Fang liked it.
"Good?" Tan asked, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
"Mmh," Fang nodded, chewing slowly.
Tan fed him another bite, then another. He was entirely focused on the task, his eyes locked on Fang’s face as if watching him eat was the most entertaining thing in the world. Every time a drop of broth threatened to spill, Tan was there with a thumb to wipe it away, cleaning Fang’s chin with gentle precision.
"You know," Tan murmured, pausing to steal a quick kiss that tasted like spices. "I read somewhere that feeding your partner increases intimacy by like, a hundred percent."
"You read that on a clickbait article at 3 AM," Fang accused, though he opened his mouth for the next bite without being asked.
"Maybe," Tan conceded. "But it works, doesn't it?"
Fang swallowed, looking down at his boyfriend, who was standing between his legs, looking at him like he hung the moon. Fang felt a rush of affection so strong it almost knocked the wind out of him. He reached out, cupping Tan’s face in both hands.
"You're ridiculous," Fang whispered, his thumb stroking Tan’s cheekbone. "I don't deserve this much effort."
Tan stopped, setting the chopsticks down. He looked up at Fang, his expression turning soft and serious. He took Fang’s hands in his and kissed his palms.
"You deserve everything, Fang," Tan said quietly. "You work so hard. You’re so smart and talented and you take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you for a change. Let me spoil you."
He pressed a kiss to Fang’s wrist. "Let me treat you like you're the most precious thing in the world, because you are."
Fang felt his eyes prick with tears. He sniffled, trying to blink them away, but Tan noticed immediately.
"Hey, hey," Tan frowned, stepping closer to wrap his arms around Fang’s waist, burying his face in Fang’s stomach. "Don't cry. You'll ruin the princess vibe."
Fang laughed wetly, tangling his fingers in Tan’s hair. "Shut up. You made me emotional."
Tan looked up, grinning that dopey, crooked grin. "I'll take the blame. Come here."
Tan reached up, pulling Fang down for a kiss that was slow and salty and full of promise. When he pulled back, Fang was breathless and blushing furiously.
"All done with food?" Tan asked.
Fang nodded, his stomach full and his heart even fuller. "Yeah."
"Good." Tan’s hands moved to Fang’s waist, squeezing gently. "Then let's get you back to bed. The floor is too cold for your royal feet."
"I can walk back!" Fang protested as Tan scooped him up again.
"No arguments," Tan said, cradling Fang against his chest as he walked back toward the bed. "If my prince wants to be carried, he gets carried."
Fang rested his head against Tan’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. "Okay," he whispered, closing his eyes. "But only because you're so strong."
Tan chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Whatever you say, your highness."
The warmth of the moment lingered as they settled back into the bed, the sheets pulled up around them. The playfulness of the "princess treatment" had faded into a comfortable silence, but Fang couldn’t seem to quiet his mind. The relaxation he’d felt only moments ago was slowly being eroded by the looming, grey cloud of deadlines.
He stared at the wall, his finger tracing absent-minded patterns over Tan’s chest. Tan, sensing the shift in Fang’s breathing—the way it became shallower, less even—tightened his arm around Fang’s waist.
"Teerak?" Tan murmured, his voice a low rumble against Fang’s ear. "You went away again. What’s wrong?"
Fang hesitated. He hated ruining the mood, hated bringing the heavy weight of his academic life into their soft, safe bubble. But the pressure in his chest was getting too hard to contain.
"It’s just..." Fang started, his voice barely a whisper. He stopped, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
"Just what?" Tan prompted gently, pressing a kiss to Fang’s temple. He didn't push, just waited with the patience of a saint.
"The project," Fang finally admitted, the words rushing out like they’d been dammed up for too long. "The final review is on Tuesday, and... I’m nowhere near ready, Tan. The structural calculations are a nightmare, and the model keeps falling apart, and the professor keeps picking apart my design in front of everyone."
He turned his face into Tan’s chest, his fingers clutching the fabric of Tan’s shirt. "I feel like I’m drowning. Everyone else is so far ahead. I spend hours in the studio, staring at a screen until my eyes burn, but it just doesn’t look right. I feel like I’m not good enough. Like I’m fooling everyone into thinking I belong in that program."
His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the usual wave of shame that came with admitting weakness.
But instead of shame, he felt Tan’s hand move to the back of his neck, strong and warm, grounding him. Tan shifted them so he could look down at Fang, his expression serious but filled with nothing but love.
"Hey," Tan said softly. "Look at me."
Fang blinked, lifting his wet eyes to meet Tan’s gaze.
"First of all," Tan began, his tone firm but affectionate. "You are not fooling anyone. I’ve seen the things you create, Fang. I’ve seen you turn a blank page into something incredible while running on three hours of sleep and an iced coffee. You are brilliant."
"But the grades—" Fang protested.
"Forget the grades for a second," Tan cut him off gently, reaching up to stroke Fang’s cheek with his thumb. "You are putting so much pressure on yourself to be perfect that you can’t see how amazing you already are. You’re burning the candle at both ends, teerak."
He sighed, pulling Fang closer so their foreheads touched. "It hurts me to see you this stressed. You carry the weight of the world on these shoulders. " Tan’s hand slid down Fang’s arm, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. "You’re so hard on yourself."
"I have to be," Fang mumbled. "Architecture is competitive."
"I know," Tan said. "But you’re not alone in this. You don't have to carry the whole load by yourself." He kissed Fang’s nose, then his cheeks, kissing away the dampness that had gathered there. "Let me help. Even if I can’t do the math for you—which we both know I can’t—let me make sure you eat. Let me make sure you sleep. Let me be the one who reminds you to breathe when you forget."
Fang let out a shaky breath, the tightness in his chest loosening just a fraction. "You already do that."
"Then let me do it more," Tan insisted. "When you’re in the studio until 2 AM, text me. I’ll bring you food. I’ll sit there and just be a bodyguard against stress if I have to. I’ll glue those tiny little model trees onto your cardboard base if that’s what you need."
Fang let out a wet laugh, picturing Tan’s large, calloused hands trying to place miniature trees. "You’d hate that."
"I would hate it," Tan agreed with a grin, "I’d probably crush half the buildings. But I’d do it for you."
His smile softened into something tender. "Fang, listen to me. You are the most talented person I know. But more importantly, you’re my person. And seeing you this stressed makes me want to fight a building."
Fang hiccoughed a laugh, burying his face in Tan’s neck. "You can't fight a building, Tan."
"Watch me," Tan grumbled playfully, wrapping his legs around Fang, entangling them completely so that Fang was completely encased in his embrace. "But seriously. You’re going to get through this. And on Tuesday, you’re going to walk in there, show them what you’ve got, and blow them all away. And afterwards, I’m taking you out for the biggest meal of your life."
Fang sniffled, feeling the exhaustion finally wash over him, but it was a good kind of exhaustion now—the kind that comes after letting go. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Tan promised. "We’ll get your favorite fried chicken. And ice cream. And then we’ll come back here and I’m not letting you out of this bed for twelve hours."
Fang nodded, his eyes finally drifting closed. "Okay. That sounds... that sounds really good."
"Good," Tan whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to Fang’s forehead. "Now, stop thinking about beams and columns. Just think about how much I love you."
"I love you too," Fang mumbled, his consciousness already slipping away into the safety of Tan’s arms. "Thanks for... for carrying me."
"Always," Tan whispered into the dark. "Always."
The room was quiet, save for the sound of their breathing mingling in the dark.
Tan’s hand was still resting on the small of Fang’s back, a warm, heavy anchor that kept him grounded.
But Fang wasn't tired anymore. The anxiety had been washed away by Tan’s words, replaced by a different kind of heat—a deep, simmering gratitude that was quickly transforming into desire.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to see Tan’s face. Tan’s eyes were closed, his features relaxed, a small, content smile playing on his lips. He looked so handsome, so earnest in his desire to protect Fang.
Fang bit his lip, an idea forming in his mind. Tan had spent the whole day—no, the whole week—treating him like royalty, carrying him, feeding him, soothing his stress. Fang wanted to give something back. He wanted to show Tan how much he appreciated it, how much Tan affected him.
Slowly, experimentally, Fang shifted his leg, throwing it over Tan’s hips so he was straddling him.
Tan’s eyes snapped open, surprise flickering in their depths. "Fang? What are you—"
"Shh," Fang whispered, placing a finger against Tan’s lips. "Let me."
He didn't give Tan a chance to argue. Leaning down, Fang captured Tan’s lips in a kiss that was vastly different from their earlier ones. It wasn't slow or sweet; it was hot and demanding. Fang kissed him with a purpose, his tongue sliding into Tan’s mouth, tasting him, claiming him.
Tan let out a low groan, his hands automatically moving to grip Fang’s waist. But instead of just resting there, Tan’s fingers dug in, his thumbs brushing against the sliver of skin where Fang’s oversized hoodie had ridden up.
Fang felt the jolt of electricity travel straight down his spine. He broke the kiss, sitting back up. The hoodie bunched around his hips, leaving his legs bare against the sheets. Tan’s eyes went dark, roaming over the exposed skin, his gaze heavy with intent.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Fang," Tan warned, his voice raspy.
"I'm not playing," Fang replied, his voice breathy and soft. He reached down, grabbing the hem of the oversized hoodie. With a slow, deliberate movement, he peeled it off over his head and tossed it onto the floor.
Now, he was sitting on top of Tan, wearing nothing but his boxers. The cool air of the room pricked his skin, but the way Tan was looking at him made him feel like he was burning up.
Tan’s jaw ticked. He stared up at Fang, his eyes tracing the lines of Fang’s collarbones, the way his chest rose and fell with anticipation. "God, you're beautiful," Tan breathed out.
Fang felt a surge of confidence. He leaned forward again, placing his hands on Tan’s chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his palms. He leaned down, but instead of kissing Tan’s mouth, he bypassed it entirely.
He pressed his lips to the side of Tan’s neck, right over the pulse point. He felt Tan’s heart rate spike against his lips. Fang dragged his open mouth down the column of Tan’s throat, scraping his teeth gently against the sensitive skin, soothing the sting with his tongue.
Tan’s hips bucked upwards involuntarily, a guttural sound escaping his throat. "Fang..."
"You take such good care of me," Fang murmured against Tan’s skin, between kisses. He moved lower, kissing the hollow of Tan’s throat, then the center of his chest. He let his hands roam, sliding down Tan’s abs, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants.
"You make me feel safe," Fang whispered, looking up at Tan through his eyelashes. The look was pure innocence mixed with raw sin. "You make me feel... wanted."
"You are wanted," Tan growled, his restraint visibly snapping. He sat up abruptly, wrapping his arms around Fang’s bare back, pulling him flush against his chest. The skin-on-skin contact was electric.
Fang gasped at the sudden movement, his arms winding around Tan’s neck. He shifted his hips, grinding down against Tan, feeling exactly how much Tan wanted him.
"I wanted to thank you," Fang breathed into Tan’s ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging gently. "For being my prince."
Tan let out a harsh breath, his hands sliding down to grip Fang’s ass, squeezing hard. "You don't have to thank me for that," Tan rasped, his eyes burning as he looked at Fang. "But... I'm not complaining."
Tan flipped them over in one smooth, practiced motion, pinning Fang to the mattress. Fang landed with a soft laugh, looking up at Tan with eyes full of trust and desire. Tan hovered over him, his hair falling into his eyes, looking at Fang like he was a feast.
"But I think," Tan murmured, ducking his head to bite gently at the sensitive spot where Fang’s shoulder met his neck, causing Fang to arch his back off the bed, "that tonight, I’m the one who’s going to be thanking you."
Fang wrapped his legs around Tan’s waist, pulling him down closer, eliminating every inch of space between them.
"Then show me," Fang challenged softly, his fingers threading into Tan’s hair. "Make me forget everything except you."
Tan didn’t need to be told twice. He claimed Fang’s mouth again, devouring him, his hands exploring every inch of skin Fang had exposed, turning the gratitude into something fierce, passionate, and completely theirs.