Casper LeBlanc Jr.

“You’re doing great, baobei.” Shang Beida might be trying to reassure himself as much as Casper. He doesn’t actually particularly like causing pain in general—not to real people, anyway, fiction doesn’t count—and he likes it even less when it’s someone he cares about this much. He works his way down Casper’s arm to his wrist, then gently turns his hand over to work on his battered palm. And he’s a sap, so first he presses a kiss to the center of Casper’s pale hand.