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    Summary

    Wei Ying's eyes fall to Lan Zhan's plump lips, his very kissable mouth and he groans, "A-Zhan, you're so mean to your poor husband! Don't you see what you're doing to me when you dress like that?"

    Lan Zhan, committed to his role of playing dumb and adding to Wei Ying's misery with every push of his bottom lip or every tilt of his head, puts his book down and spreads his legs just a little, looking down at himself. "Like what?"

    Wei Ying gasps, clutching his chest like he's suffered physical damage from Lan Zhan's words, "Are you— Are you serious? You can't just start wearing sundresses out of nowhere and pretend like you don't know what you're doing!"

    Lan Zhan takes this reproach into consideration and shrugs, "They're comfortable." He says.

    It's summer and Lan Zhan decides to wear sundresses (and nothing else) so he can ride Wei Ying anytime.

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