Aches (слэш)

“It’s not—” Zhou Zishu cut off his words, slapping at Wen Kexing’s graceful fingers like he would a fly. “It doesn’t hurt.”
He was lying, and Wen Kexing might even know he was lying, but that didn’t matter. Zhou Zishu wanted that pain. It was a reminder that he was still alive, that his skin still sang with sensation, and that he could feel anything beyond the cloying drain of the Nails in his chest.