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Luo Qingyang knows something’s up when she enters the living room and sees Wen Qing staring at the television. Her mouth is set in a frown, her lips bitten red. Her fingers are tight around her phone, and her glare could set the apartment on fire.
Also, Wen Qing hates The Big Bang Theory. There’s no way she’d last more than a minute if she wasn’t thoroughly distracted.
Luo Qingyang leans against the doorframe, watching her seethe. “Something wrong?”
Wen Qing’s shoulders actually flinch with surprise. Luo Qingyang stares – she’s hardly ever able to sneak up on her. It’s pretty difficult to catch a vampire unawares. “Actually, yes,” Wen Qing grumbles, shifting to cross her arms.
Trying not to smile – her girlfriend is always cute, but especially when she’s grumpy – Luo Qingyang joins her on the couch. “What’s wrong?” she asks, leaning into Wen Qing’s side. She’s always warm, a side effect of her fire affinity, but it’s boosted from her recent feed. The thought she’s keeping Wen Qing healthy makes her stomach flip. “You hate this show.”
“Misogynistic wankers,” Wen Qing says darkly. “But that’s not the problem.”
Luo Qingyang tries not to glance down, really, but her phone screen is lit up with notifications from Wei Wuxian. She doesn’t have any context but the angry faces aren’t a good sign. “Is Wei Wuxian causing trouble again?”
Wen Qing snorts softly and unfolds her arm to draw her closer. “Not quite, this time. He’s been otherwise occupied.”
“Occupied is one way to put it,” Luo Qingyang says, thinking of the months of tension between him and Lan Wangji. She hasn’t been involved with vampires so closely for very long, but even she couldn’t miss it at the clan conferences her girlfriend hates. “At least nobody’s using me as a beard anymore.”
Wen Qing barks a sharp laugh at that, turning to press a kiss to her hair. “I told Wen Ning if they kept thinking the other was crushing on you, I’d make out with you in front of all the clan leaders.”
The thought of those elder vampires glaring daggers at her with such a large audience makes her grimace, even as part of her warms at the thought of being claimed so boldly. “Even I might not have been able to survive that,” she says.
Wen Qing laughs again, but there’s a tense undertone to it that has Luo Qingyang narrowing her eyes. “You’re a phoenix; you would’ve found a way,” she says softly.
Luo Qingyang turns in her arms to peer at her face. “Seriously though. What’s wrong?”
Wen Qing’s full lips pinch with her reluctance. “One of my… close acquaintances. Her husband has been out of the country since the borders closed, and she hasn’t been feeding.”
Luo Qingyang immediately frowns. “That was months ago. She hasn’t even… I don’t know, put out an ad for volunteers, or picked someone up?”
Wen Qing’s cheek twitches at the idea. “The Jiang are… more selective than the other clans. They tend to prefer close relationships with those they feed from. They often have polyamorous relationships to manage.”
Luo Qingyang thinks of Jiang Cheng, who had spent the last conference glowering at anyone and everyone, and has to bite back a smile. “Sounds difficult to manage.”
“The drama of bonding with mortals and not turning them.” Wen Qing rolls her eyes and slumps back against the couch. “Glad I haven’t had to watch that yet. Her partner’s half mortal, so she’s been able to survive off him. She doesn’t have a backup.”
Luo Qingyang has only been with Wen Qing for two years, but she’s seen her go without blood a couple of times. A month or two were bad enough. She can’t imagine what almost eight months would do. “How has she survived?”
“Not well,” Wen Qing says. “Probably by doing a lot of sleeping. I’m impressed she hasn’t gone into hibernation.”
Luo Qingyang hums, lacing their fingers together. “Did her brothers know? They seem close.”
“Close, yes. Wise? Not so much.” Wen Qing rolls her eyes. “They didn’t actually see her in person until a week ago, when restrictions eased. She’d been keeping quiet about it the whole time.”
“Were they pissed?” Luo Qingyang asks, shifting to tuck her head into Wen Qing’s shoulder. “Even I am, a little.”
“Understatement,” Wen Qing snorts. “I got a few ranting calls, and even more messages. They haven’t been able to sort something out, and Wei Wuxian didn’t exactly ask me, but… he hinted.”
Luo Qingyang hums, swinging her legs into Wen Qing’s lap to better curl into her. “He hinted to you… about me?”
Wen Qing’s hand tenses in hers. “Yes. He wouldn’t actually ask but… I know he wouldn’t mention it if he wasn’t desperate. Don’t feel like you have to do anything, I’m sure we can find another way.”
Luo Qingyang’s lips soften into a smile. “She seemed nice, from what I’ve seen of her. I wouldn’t want her to suffer if I can help it.”
Wen Qing tilts her head up to kiss her forehead. “Such a good girl,” she murmurs. Something within Luo Qingyang rolls over to bask in the praise. Wen Qing must see it in her eyes because she smirks a little and leans in to kiss her lips. She smells of her strawberry lip gloss, Luo Qingyang notices, breathing deeply to savour it.
When Wen Qing pulls away, Luo Qingyang has to blink a couple of times to chase her train of thought. “She’s pretty, too,” she says. “That helps.”
Wen Qing’s eyes crinkle with her smile. “Don’t make me too jealous.”
“Will you come with me?” Luo Qingyang asks, stealing another quick kiss. “It’d help, but also. You two would be gorgeous together.”
Wen Qing laughs into her mouth. “Who said we had to have sex?”
Luo Qingyang bites gently at her plump lip. “You said they need a connection. We don’t exactly have time to woo her.” She pushes up to rearrange herself, straddling her lap. “Besides, you didn’t say we didn’t have to have sex.”
Wen Qing blinks slowly at her, lazy grin intensifying the heat in her eyes. “You make a good point. I’m convinced.”
“Book it in,” Luo Qingyang says, winding her arms around Wen Qing’s neck.
Luo Qingyang knows the Jin are filthy rich. The Jiang are also very wealthy, but don’t tend to show it off as… ostentatiously. She’s trying not to let her jaw drop as Wen Qing leads them through the manor, really, but it’s hard not to. There’s gold everywhere. Some of it is gaudy, but some of the furniture is actually really nice.
She can see touches of Jiang Yanli’s presence – lotus paintings, flowers in vases to soften the more frequently used rooms, practical chairs and notebooks everywhere.
“This place is too big for two people,” she says. “It must be lonely.”
“Jin Zixuan’s family is insane,” Wen Qing says frankly. “And I’m related to the other Wen. So that’s saying something.”
Luo Qingyang bites at the inside of her lip. She’s only met Jiang Yanli a handful of times, but she already wants to get closer to her. “How long until he can come back?”
Wen Qing slows her pace and watches her. “At least until the end of the year.” She gives her hand a soft squeeze. “He knows about this, and is very supportive. They both know this will need to be an… ongoing arrangement.”
Luo Qingyang knows this; she’d read the texts. Still. “I’m not good at. Not being committed.”
Wen Qing’s eyes glow with affection. “I know. We can get through this… strange time. And then see where we go. Or we can stop whenever you want.”
“And if you want to stop, just say the word,” Luo Qingyang says seriously. “We stay on the same page.”
“Deal,” Wen Qing nods, her business face taking over.
Wen Qing takes her to a door that’s been left ajar. She pushes it open quietly, stepping into the room. Jiang Yanli is on her large bed, lying on top of the covers in pyjamas that would be cute if she didn’t look like she was already dead.
Luo Qingyang approaches with a sense of trepidation. Jiang Yanli is paler than she should be, hair limp in its ponytail. Her hands are folded neatly over her chest like she’s about to be buried.
“Jiang Yanli,” Wen Qing says firmly, crawling onto the bed until she reaches her legs. She shakes one of them. “Yanli.”
Jiang Yanli moans softly and opens her eyes. Exhausted as she looks, she still manages to smile at them. “A-Qing.”
Luo Qingyang joins them on the bed. Jiang Yanli hasn’t moved, and she’s beginning to suspect it’s because she can’t. “Hello, Jiang Yanli. I’m Luo Qingyang. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under… better circumstances.”
Jiang Yanli’s eyes twinkle. She looks so fragile. Luo Qingyang reaches out to brush her hair out of her face. “Just Yanli is fine, Qingyang.”
Luo Qingyang resists the urge to raise her eyebrows. “If we’re being close, I prefer Mianmian.”
Jiang Yanli smiles and it’s radiant, even like this. “Mianmian. I’m in your debt. Both of you.”
Luo Qingyang glances back to see Wen Qing shifting Jiang Yanli’s legs apart and settling between them. Wen Qing catches her eye and shoots her a comforting smile. “We wouldn’t leave you, Yanli.”
Something hot tangles in her belly at the casual intimacy. She’d expected to feel some jealousy, or anxiety about sharing her girlfriend, but. Luo Qingyang’s heart beats only with affection. “How do you want to go about this?” she asks Jiang Yanli. “If you drain me all at once I’ll take a bit to revive, but it’s okay. It doesn’t hurt me.”
Jiang Yanli watches her with an intimate warmth she feels down to her toes. Just like that, Luo Qingyang knows she isn’t going to kill her. The thought strikes her with a confidence that should be foolish – even Wen Qing has killed her a couple of times, bloodthirst too strong to resist – but Jiang Yanli has survived far longer than she should have by now. The spine beneath her wan skin must be hard as diamond.
“A-Qing says you need a close relationship to feed,” Luo Qingyang says, shifting to drape herself over Jiang Yanli. Wen Qing nudges at her so she curls her knees away. “How?”
Jiang Yanli closes her eyes for a long moment. “Kiss me?” she asks, voice so soft Luo Qingyang almost misses it even though she’s on top of her.
She leans her forearms on either side of Jiang Yanli’s head and presses their lips together. Knowing Jiang Yanli hasn’t moved in so long, Luo Qingyang had expected her to smell sour, or feel dirty. Her lips lack the gloss she’s accustomed to kissing but a faint floral fragrance still clings to her hair, creating a small secret world between them.
Jiang Yanli’s lips are dry and cool, but they slowly warm against her own. Luo Qingyang runs her tongue along them, trying to transfer some heat, and the tip of it catches a fang. Some venom is already leaking out, sweet and heady, and Luo Qingyang chases it with a moan. The kiss turns metallic with her blood and Jiang Yanli shivers beneath her.
She must have cut her tongue but it’s painless; all Luo Qingyang notices is the curl of Jiang Yanli’s tongue along hers, coaxing the wound to seep more steadily.
A warm hand settles on her hip. Luo Qingyang relaxes beneath it, trusting Wen Qing to watch over her as they lose themselves.
Her tongue heals quickly as usual. Luo Qingyang nibbles on Jiang Yanli’s lower lip, pulls away just enough to see it’s stained red. A whisper of pink is appearing beneath her skin. “More?” she prompts, slotting her own lip between cool ones.
Jiang Yanli moans quietly and sinks her teeth into her lower lip. The bite only stings for a moment before the venom drowns the pain with bliss. Luo Qingyang’s eyes close of their own accord, her mind sinking beneath a heavy haze.
“That’s it,” she hears behind her, the warm hand leaving for long enough to drag her shorts down. “My good girls.”
Luo Qingyang moans into Jiang Yanli’s mouth, feels her sucks grow harder. Her arms are starting to go numb so she pushes onto her knees and swings one over Jiang Yanli’s waist, settling comfortably over her hips. Wen Qing’s fingers dig into her panties and she tries to help, distracted as more venom pumps into her blood.
Her lip slips out with the awkward struggle. Luo Qingyang is lightheaded already, though she definitely hasn’t lost enough blood for that yet. Must be the venom, she muses, watching Jiang Yanli breath heavily beneath her. Her fangs are a slim white under the blood, a stark contrast to the red smeared over her face.
“Do you want my arm?” she offers, leaning down to kiss one of the fangs. “My neck?”
“Not yet,” Jiang Yanli says, breaking into a gasp. There’s a tell-tale slick noise and Luo Qingyang sits up and peers back to see Wen Qing bury her face between Jiang Yanli’s thighs.
“Shit,” Luo Qingyang mutters, watching Wen Qing’s tongue dance over her clit. Without any underwear, she can feel her own slick start to escape to her thigh. “Okay. Yanli, sweetie?”
Jiang Yanli’s eyes are closed, her mouth just open enough to let soft moans fill the air. “I can’t move yet,” she says, eyelashes fluttering. “Can you give me your breast?”
Luo Qingyang flings her shirt off and tosses it to the end of the bed. Her bra requires a little more care, and she unclasps it carefully before letting it join her shirt. She shuffles her knees up the bed and leans down, letting her back curve as she presses a breast to bloody lips.
Jiang Yanli makes an appreciative noise, her fangs pressing into her skin as she sucks. The reminder of danger has her cunt clenching around nothing as she gasps, trying not to press down too hard. Blunt teeth close around her nipple and tug; Luo Qingyang moans and rolls her hips down. “Fuck,” she says, feeling herself soak the skin beneath her. “I’m gonna make a mess,” she warns.
She can feel Jiang Yanli’s moan vibrate through her breast. She’d almost tuned out the sound of Wen Qing eating her out, but the sudden press of fingers sweeping through her slick is a stark reminder. “Good,” Wen Qing says, circling her fingers around her entrance teasingly. “I’ll clean up.”
Luo Qingyang laughs, her breasts jiggling with the motion. A fang tugs at the skin and slices a thin cut into it, blood pearling along the line. Jiang Yanli licks it up and sucks at her nipple, bringing it all into her mouth. Luo Qingyang jolts as she sinks her fangs in, the sharp bite quickly flushed with liquid heat. “Oh shit,” Luo Qingyang murmurs, rocking her hips against Wen Qing’s fingers as warm wetness leaves her breast. The sucking stimulates her nipple as well as the bite and it’s overwhelming, building upon itself slowly but surely. Air makes her slick cold whenever Wen Qing’s fingers slide away, the sensation stealing her attention from the hot mouth on her skin.
It’s too much. Luo Qingyang gropes at her other breast, squeezing the tender flesh roughly as a finger slips inside her. With something to clench onto, her hips rock faster and angle her clit to grind against Jiang Yanli’s wet belly. “I’m gonna come,” she says, a hint of surprise in her voice. She usually takes longer than this.
Jiang Yanli hums with approval, pulling back a little to pinch her nipple between her teeth. The cheeky glance she gives Luo Qingyang is her only warning before she sinks a fang into the nipple.
“Fuck!” Luo Qingyang shouts, the pain riding along pleasure as she comes. Her hips are tugged backwards and Wen Qing’s hot tongue runs along her folds, sucking at her wetness while her fingers dig into her contracting walls. Luo Qingyang’s arms give out and she slumps onto Jiang Yanli’s face, careful not to cover her nose. “A-Qing,” she says with a shudder as Wen Qing fucks her tongue in beside her fingers. “Yanli.”
Jiang Yanli releases her nipple with a soft pop, licking at the blood that chases after her. “You taste good,” she says, her voice lower than before. The part of Luo Qingyang’s brain that’s still online wonders if she’s already come too. Wen Qing’s mouth moves away, and then Jiang Yanli is starting to pant beneath her. Luo Qingyang shuffles down to tuck her face into Jiang Yanli’s neck, catching her breath as she trembles beneath her.
Luo Qingyang wonders how long Jiang Yanli has been here, alone. How hungry she’s been, how she’s coped with the isolation…
She presses kisses into her neck, lets them become rougher as Jiang Yanli gets closer to the edge. If it were Wen Qing, she would have died already, or at least passed out. Jiang Yanli’s barely taken enough to make her dizzy, and when she tries to bruise a hickey into her skin, she only manages a light mark.
With a soundless gasp and sudden arch of her back, Jiang Yanli comes. Luo Qingyang strokes her hands along her skin, rubbing her palms in an effort to transfer more heat. “Better?” she asks, leaning over to kiss her flushed lips. “Let us take care of you.”
Jiang Yanli reaches for her with a quiet whine, delicate hands settling on her waist and tugging her up with surprising strength. “Let me taste you,” she breathes, blinking those doe eyes up at her. “Please.”
Luo Qingyang winces and she hasn’t even been touched yet. “I get sensitive after an orgasm,” she says, sitting up and tracing her fingers along Jiang Yanli’s soft breasts. “It’ll be an hour before I can come again.”
Wen Qing chuckles from behind her and kisses her shoulder blade. “Her venom’s an aphrodisiac. You’ll probably be okay, but tell us and we’ll stop.”
Luo Qingyang leans back into her and hums. Jiang Yanli’s eyes are glittering as they take them both in, hungry with both sexual desire and bloodlust. “Do you need to do more before you can eat properly?”
Jiang Yanli blinks herself back into focus and nods. Although she can at least move her limbs, she still looks exhausted. “Please,” she says again.
Luo Qingyang brushes a couple of testing fingers against her clit and doesn’t immediately flinch from overstimulation. “Huh.” With increased confidence, she crawls up the bed and settles her thighs around Jiang Yanli’s face. The bed has an elaborately carved wooden headboard so she has something to hold onto as Jiang Yanli’s tongue delves into her folds.
Without really being able to see much beyond Jiang Yanli’s nose, Luo Qingyang has nothing to distract her from listening to Wen Qing fuck her with her fingers. Her own arousal usually falls away into drowsy contentment, closing its chapter and making her wait for the next one. This time it flares like recently extinguished coals given new fuel, heating her from the core out. Luo Qingyang moans at the hard suck of her clit and rolls her hips into it. Cool fingers come to dig into her ass cheeks, pulling her in harder.
Luo Qingyang has the stray thought of Jiang Yanli biting into her clit and oh, she’s definitely not going to have trouble getting there again so soon, not with the way she’s soaking into Jiang Yanli’s mouth and chin. There’s something to be said for the Jiang way, she thinks giddily, bucking into the scrape of fangs along her sensitive skin.
“Yanli,” she sighs as long nails bite into her skin. “You’re so good.”
The hum against her clit makes her orgasm slam into her, taking her by surprise and sweeping her away. Then Jiang Yanli really does bite around her clit and oh, that’s much more intense than she’d imagined.
When she comes back to herself, Jiang Yanli is sitting up against the headboard and holding her. Wen Qing is plastered against her back, soft kissing sounds right next to Luo Qingyang’s ear. She smiles at the quiet intimacy of being enveloped by her two lovers. She reaches around blindly and tangles her fingers into the first hands she finds. They’re thin and cool so she knows it’s Jiang Yanli before she finds the ring on one finger.
Jiang Yanli gives her hands a comforting squeeze. “Welcome back.”
“You’re gonna kill me,” Luo Qingyang says. Her voice is hoarse and a little sore – had she been screaming? How much time has passed? “With orgasms.”
Their laughter is unsynchronised and jostles her between them. Luo Qingyang giggles at the odd sensation. “A more fun way to die, I presume,” Wen Qing says, kissing the shell of her ear. “You doing okay, Mianmian?”
“Very okay,” she replies, closing her eyes and leaning into Jiang Yanli’s shoulder. She’s skinnier than Wen Qing so it’s a little uncomfortable, but she eventually finds a good angle. “Can you feed now?”
Jiang Yanli laughs again, clearly more energetic even though she’s just resting. “Do you have a preferred wrist?”
Luo Qingyang gives her the left one and settles comfortably against her. “It’s okay if I die. If it’s slow then I’ll come back pretty quick.”
“I won’t kill you,” Jiang Yanli says lightly. Luo Qingyang would doubt her but the control she’s shown so far has been insane. The bite against her wrist is sweetly sharp, and the pleasure that floods her takes her mind away.
Luo Qingyang loses track. She comes close to passing out, but every time Jiang Yanli pauses and spends long moments kissing Wen Qing until Luo Qingyang’s blood replenishes. It’s like being edged, the effect amplified by her venom, but with death instead of sex. The line between them blurs into nothing as Luo Qingyang lies there, pleasure replacing her blood until she wonders if she’ll be left with that intoxicating venom pumping through her heart.
She’s totally, completely, entirely wiped. Luo Qingyang is pretty sure she couldn’t get up if she tried.
The soft hair tucked beneath her chin is that same floral scent from before, but stronger and clean. Jiang Yanli must have showered while she’s been asleep. Her breaths are slow and steady, matching her own.
Fingers card through her own hair. Luo Qingyang grunts a greeting, and Wen Qing huffs a laugh. “Good morning to you too.”
Luo Qingyang tries to reply, but all that comes out is another weak grunt. Warm fingertips brush against her cheeks and she manages a sleepy glance up. Wen Qing smiles down at her, the love in her face so open that Luo Qingyang’s heart skips a beat.
“You did so well, my love,” she says, leaning down to kiss her temple. “Rest. We don’t have to do anything for the next week.”
A week of sleep, sex and snuggles?
Luo Qingyang is so on board.