The straightforwardness of that answer makes Sizhui's cheeks flare, though he can't fight how it makes him grin either, the way it emboldens him to slide one hand into the side of Zhuque's pants and rake his fingernails along the skin he finds there. “Then do so,” he murmurs, more a statement than a demand, but there is a hint of playfulness in his tone when he adds, “Or should I undress for you?”

Funny, how being wanted can make one feel so courageous.