And Sizhui whimpers in return, still mostly muffled with his fingers thrusting into his mouth, which is good since another sound works its way up his throat when he twists his wrist just right. He makes direct eye-contact as his hips jump, his eyelashes flutter and his dick twitches, spilling the slightest amount of precum over his fingers that he slicks over himself for less friction.

He squirms in place, bucks a bit faster, works his fingers deeper into his mouth, totally lost in the moment while imagining it's Jiang Cheng's hand between his legs, that it's his cock in his mouth. Not so much he doesn't hear the other's question, though.

“Mmmhmm,” he drawls. Sizhui slides the digits free with a breathless gasp, swallows, brushes his knuckles near his lips in case there's any stray saliva then delves back in with a third finger now. His attention drifts down, considering Jiang Cheng's hard-on again, and he has to suck harder or really risk drooling on himself.