A smirk plays on Kexing's lips. There's barely more than a beat between Zishu's words and Kexing's fingers moving to open his own robes. The whole kit and caboodle of his outer and underrobes slide down his shoulders, catching briefly on his tails, before pooling around his ankles. His trousers follow and Kexing flops backward onto their bed, spreading his legs in a lewd invitation.

"I did all the work of picking them out. Treat me."