He glances down, spots the wine bottle in Wei Ying's hand, and acts. One moment Wei Ying has it in his fingers, and the next, Lan Wangji has taken it, set it haphazardly on the nearby bookshelf, and pinned him to the door once more, hands back around his wrists.

"Mine," he confirms, looking at the disheveled beauty of the man before him. Slowly, deliberately, Lan Wangji leans in to kiss him again.