He exhales quiet moans against the other man's lips as his husband's hot, rough hands touches him. He nips at his throat, not caring if there are marks left behind. They can always heal them later. His lips curl at the beautiful words and his heart sings with joy.

"Wei Ying, my love," he purrs, kissing near his ear. His hands move lower to push back his robes wishing he hadn't worn so many to bed. (Like any, but that wouldn't have been very appropriate with their son). "I missed you. I was worried you'd have to go to Lanling."