Huaisang takes the hungry kiss and it is echoed with just as much on his end. He holds the other's body close, greedy as he kisses him needily and at the same time openly giving whatever the other wanted to take from him. Wangji knew how to kiss, knew how to take and Huaisang knew how to give. His hands stayed on the other's back, continuing to trace scars but maybe with not as light of touch as they had started. As the other buries into him he cries out into the kiss, parting for a moment to gather his breath, nails having dug into the other's back briefly. Or he'd meant for it to be brief.

His touch isn't as gentle on the other's back after that, holding tight to him as he presses into the kiss again hungrily. The other didn't give him a chance to adjust, a chance to orientate himself and it was amazing, it pulls him straight into the feeling he searches for so often and so often can't find. It's easy to lose yourself, your grief when someone is fucking you like this. Where Wangji might stay quiet, each thrust drew grunts and moans from Huaisang, muffled by the kiss and sometimes a sharper cry that was louder as he parted from the other's lips.

It's exactly what he wants from Wangji, what he'd asked for when he'd been telling him not to hold back, that he's not fragile. Even so the other doesn't hurt him, even if Huaisang would have been alright to allow him to some Wangji seems to know when he's starting to because there's always a shift, always something that stops the pleasure from turning into something else. "So good," Huaisang pants against the other's mouth.