By the time he’s done bathing, Huaisang is naked by the bed, setting his cock down on the table and picking up a jar. “Face down on the bed, A-Cheng,” he says absently, pouring oil into his hands and rubbing them together to warm them up. “You’re not gonna get strapped in?” He laughs lightly at Jiang Cheng’s confusion. “In a bit. I want to help you relax, not make you more tense.” His hands get oil all over Jiang Cheng’s arms as he drags him onto the bed, and he straddles his back once Jiang Cheng is in position. And then his fingers press hard into a knot Jiang Cheng didn’t even know he had in his shoulder, and Jiang Cheng melts into the sheets with a breathy moan.

Figuring out that the second daughter of the Jiang clan was, in fact, their son and heir - if you look at it by Qinghe standards - when no one else in Yunmeng had yet figured it out caused Nie Mingjue enough of a headache, and it must have given him a bit of a reputation for sticking his nose into other people's business. That must be the reason that Jiang Cheng would come to him of all people after the fall of the Lotus Pier, hand a little too low down on his stomach for the problem to be food poisoning, to ask for advice - or maybe it was only that he had nobody else to turn to.

Having a crush on your roommate is really embarrassing, except that's apparently the opposite of a problem. Jiang Cheng can't deny that's pretty convenient. Wei Ying holds it up, a series of straps and buckles and velcro and wow, really a lot of leather. It has absolutely no conceivable form beyond tangled. Nie Huaisang opens the door at exactly the moment that Wei Ying holds the thing up to Jiang Cheng’s chest, as if he’s trying to imagine how exactly it would fit onto a person, and it falls into a tangled pile between them while they stare at Huaisang in mild mortification.