Sizhui's head tilts, offering Zhuque more neck to mark, his right arm shifting so he can gently stroke his fingertips through some of that long hair. “I asked you first,” he teases against Zhuque's ear, leaving the softest kiss against the shell.

As Zhuque's mouth works down toward his shoulder, he tips a little further, breath abruptly catching whenever he brushes a collarbone. “But i-if I have to decide?” a beat, another gasp, both his hands moving to hook Zhuque's shoulders again and his fingernails catching the skin when that hand working along his side finds his hip. “I... like being able to look at you.”