[Xiao Xingchen prepares everything with practiced ease, already whisking the ingredients in a bowl as the pan heats. It's enough to distract him from the soreness he's already becoming more and more accustomed to. From now on, he's going to have to start picking up the food they need, thinking about their meals in advance.

Right now, this is simple enough. One foot in front of the other, doing what's in front of him until everything comes easily again.

Though that's more difficult when he has Xue Yang's words to contend with. As the image enters his mind, he stirs the batter a bit too hard as squeak escapes his lips. Some splatters onto his apron, other droplets landing on his skin. Not enough to ruin breakfast, but heavens, he's even more of a mess now. He isn't sure if it's better or not when he thinks of how that wouldn't be too different with that nameless friend...]

A reminder of past ventures inviting you for more, I take it.

[His voice only lowers to an embarrassed mumble because no amount of sex can do anything about his paper-thin face. Though that thought leads to another, making him curious enough to speak more clearly as he peers over his shoulder back at Xue Yang.]

Then what do you think of how I look when I'm in a more... presentable state?

[He can predict the answer for most people, so much so that he doesn't have to ask when he's usually told unprompted, but Xue Yang is different from most.]