Soban Vallion

Quan Yizhen audibly gulped —Yin Yu had a very strong urge to lick over his throat, to bite, even— before moving one of his hands to tangle his fingers between Yin Yu’s locks of hair, scratching softly for a moment, always so tender and adorable, Yin Yu thought, endeared. Then, his grip turned more confident, not too forceful, but sure enough to guide Yin Yu’s tongue up, towards his erection.

Yin Yu closed his mouth around the head, sucking on it as if it was a delicacy. Well, to him, it was: he made sure to gather and lick all the precum beading on top, his tongue repeatedly tracing over the slit, the tip of it even digging a tiny bit into it, which made Quan Yizhen’s grip on his hair more forceful, actively pulling.

It had been years since that moment, but the memory was still fresh in Quan Yizhen’s mind: two glimmering silhouettes that jumped out from the lion’s heads, taking shape in an almost explosive manner, their roars reverberating inside Quan Yizhen’s chest.

Unsurprisingly, he obliterated the creature with even more ease thanks to the lions and their fiery presence aiding him in battle.

And by the end of it, they rubbed against him, like a house cat would, letting him pet them and hug them to his heart’s content, trapping him under their bodies for a while, before finally returning to the weapon.