[his physicality is lovely to Jin Guangyao, who laughs quietly and with pleasure when Quentin cleaves to him and kisses the slope of his neck as though no one ever taught him to be precious with his affection. a thing that Quentin has acclimated him to in turn, and which he has learned to treasure. warmly, he slips his fingers into Quentin's hair and curls his fingers, turns his face to the side to kiss his forehead--then blinks, and leans back enough to peer at his face in clear surprise.]
no subject
Is today your birthday?
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