Work Text:
She runs towards the end of the pier for what seems like hours, but she can see her at the end of it, red robes glittering gold in the midday sun. She stops, choking on air. There are tears streaming down her face and the water of the lake beneath the pier is dark red and viscous; the sky turns almost black and there is no one at the end of the pier except for small ghost fires, being extinguished one by one, and--
Jiang Yanli closes WeChat with a flick and sighs, going back to running her fingers through the condensation on the beer bottle in front of her. She unlocks her phone again and opens the chat with her brothers, fingers hovering idly over the on-screen keyboard. She sighs again, turns her phone over. It’s no use getting them furious over something so insignificant; she’s been stood up before, and it’s her business, not theirs. Jiang Yanli scans the room of the restaurant, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. She’s in her best dress, the shade of lilac so light it’s almost off-white; she spent ages curling her hair just enough to look like she didn’t put any effort in. Most of her favorite lipstick has transferred to the rim of the bottle, but she knows she looks great, and it’s Jin Zixuan’s loss.
She comes back to herself, realizing that she’s been staring at a woman standing at the bar across the room. Jiang Yanli flushes, hot with embarrassment at being caught, and is about to avert her eyes when something stops her. The woman is striking, clad in tight, black jeans and a dark red t-shirt, leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer. Her hair is tied in a loose bun on top of her head, revealing her bare neck. Jiang Yanli is openly staring now, her eyes sliding down in an overt appreciation of curves, then back up again, until she meets a pair of eyes watching her back just as intently. She swallows, lowers her eyes to her almost empty bottle of beer and takes a small sip. Soon, there will be no reason to stay any longer; the only thing to drink is the sight of the woman at the bar.
There is something about her, Jiang Yanli decides, that pulls her in. She wants to allow herself to be pulled as far as she can. She drinks the last dregs of her beer and decides to drink her fill otherwise, but when she looks up, something is blocking her view. The woman has moved from the bar to stand right in front of her, just a few steps away. Up close, she is like a punch right to the sternum; absolutely breathtaking.
"Hi," the stranger says and smiles.
"Hi." Jiang Yanli somehow manages not to stutter.
"Can I sit here?" the woman asks, pointing at the chair across from Jiang Yanli.
"Sure--"
"I'm Wen Qing, and you are?" Wen Qing asks, cutting her off. She pulls the chair with practiced ease and sits down. Her eyes are impossibly large and impossibly brown.
"Jiang Yanli," she replies, hypnotized.
"Are you waiting for someone?" Wen Qing asks, pointing to Jiang Yanli's phone with the bottom of her bottle.
"No," she says, decisive, and smiles.
Tender fingers pluck at the knot at the top of her head, pulling away pins and ornaments, loosening strand after strand until her hair falls loosely to her sides. She does not move away, instead pushing fingertips into the skin of the aching scalp. She swallows a moan, exchanging it for a soft gasp of contented surprise and--
Jiang Yanli buzzes with beer and restless energy that threatens to overspill; she's a few steps behind Wen Qing as she searches for her house keys in her backpack. They're both tipsy, Jiang Yanli perhaps a bit more, because despite the small voice that whispers for her to hold back, she shuffles closer to Wen Qing's back, enough to feel the heat of her body.
"A-Qing," she whispers, somehow stifling the embarrassed giggle that wants to follow. She's left exposed, wanting as Wen Qing stills with the key in the lock, not yet turned. There is a slight pause in the space between them, but Jiang Yanli can see the side of Wen Qing's face, and can see her smile growing.
When they are finally inside, the unfamiliar surroundings sober Jiang Yanli a little. Is she really about to have a one night stand with a girl she met at a bar? This is not the kind of person Jiang Yanli is, but it is the kind of person she wants to be tonight, she tells herself as she watches Wen Qing deposit her backpack, keys, and blazer in the hall.
"Do you want some tea?" Wen Qing asks all of a sudden, and Jiang Yanli cannot hold in the laughter.
"Do I look that nervous?" she asks, smiling widely as Wen Qing nods. "No, thank you," she says, pulling her heels off and dropping her purse next to Wen Qing’s backpack. "Come here," she says, but takes a step towards Wen Qing instead of waiting. She puts her hand on the side of Wen Qing's face, thumb dangerously close to her lips. "I've wanted to kiss you all evening," she says and leans in. "You have such beautiful lips. Can I kiss you?" she asks. Wen Qing's soft exhale warms and tickles her face.
"Yes." As soon as the word leaves Wen Qing's lips with another tickle of warm breath, Jiang Yanli closes the distance between them. She was right; Wen Qing's lips are soft and warm, the way she kisses at first is similar to the last time Jiang Yanli kissed a girl, then not at all. Wen Qing's hands come up to hold Jiang Yanli against her, steadfast and undoubting, and her kiss overflows with that surety. It feels like a reassurance very few people can give her, and none in this way. When Wen Qing's tongue touches her slightly parted lips, she opens easily and moans into the kiss. Enveloped by the warmth, her body wakes, pooling magma low in her gut.
Jiang Yanli pushes her palms under the soft cotton of Wen Qing’s t-shirt and drags her short, blunt fingernails down the skin of her back, delighted by the way Wen Qing goes taut and breaks their kiss to let out a desperate gasp. Jiang Yanli’s mouth waters at the sight of hardened nipples that the fabric of Wen Qing’s shirt does nothing to hide. She leans forward, chasing the erect spot with her mouth, biting at it gently through the fabric first on the right, then on the left, to the accompaniment of Wen Qing’s quiet swears.
“Fuck,” they both say at once, look at each other, and laugh. Wen Qing starts first, with a soft chuckle, but Jiang Yanli cannot help the peal of laughter that it brings. Something in Wen Qing’s eyes flickers.
“I cannot believe you’re not wearing a bra.” Just as she says it, Wen Qing lifts her t-shirt and takes it off, tossing it onto a ruined olive couch. From where they’re standing in the hall, Jiang Yanli can see a mismatched armchair, full of something that might be unfolded laundry. Wen Qing cups her face with both of her hands and waits until she looks her in the eye.
“I can’t believe anyone is stupid enough to have stood you up,” she says and kisses Jiang Yanli again, making her lose her train of thought entirely. Almost unconsciously, Jiang Yanli reaches for the naked skin of Wen Qing’s breasts, squeezing and flicking her thumb against the soft skin of her nipples. Wen Qing breaks away every time and inhales sharply. The direct effect Jiang Yanli seems to have on her, reflected back at herself in those quiet gasps for air, is more intoxicating than any alcohol. Once another kiss is broken, Wen Qing leans in and kisses Jiang Yanli’s neck, the line of places she kissed a rope of warmth spreading down Jiang Yanli's body. It lasts for a while, until she notices the goosebumps on Wen Qing’s forearms and decides to pull her in close for a hug.
“What’s that?” Wen Qing laughs breathily.
“You’re cold,” Jiang Yanli says to Wen Qing’s obvious delight.
“I’m not,” Wen Qing says, and Jiang Yanli feels like there is a step she’s missed, like there is more in the reply than she’s able to see. “But you are right, we should probably move this into my room. There are people I’d rather not traumatize,” Wen Qing says and a flicker of hesitation rises in Jiang Yanli’s stomach. Wen Qing grabs her hand and pulls her further into the apartment. “My brother will be back in the morning,” she says, noticing Jiang Yanli’s uncertainty. “But I’d rather not talk about him right now, if you don’t mind,” she adds, and Jiang Yanli marvels at the delighted note in her voice.
“I don’t,” Jiang Yanli says and lets herself be pulled. In the near-darkness of the apartment she trusts Wen Qing to lead her. There is next to nothing that she can see, only bits and pieces lit up by the yellow glow of street lamps sneaking in between the drawn curtains. Wen Qing quickens her steps and Jiang Yanli laughs, surprised; for a split second, they are nearly running across the small apartment, laughing like only the drunk and in love do. The thought is too fleeting to analyze, but something about it makes Jiang Yanli flush straight to her core.
Once they are in the doorway of what must be Wen Qing’s room, she stops abruptly but doesn’t let go of Jiang Yanli’s hand.
“Do you need to--” she pauses. “Freshen? Yourself?” Jiang Yanli imagines her face cringing in the darkness and laughs, then thinks about it.
“No, I don’t think I do,” she says, pulling Wen Qing close by their joined hands. Wen Qing lets herself be pulled, and kissed, and kissed again.
“Please,” Wen Qing says between kisses, “ignore the mess, then.”
“It’s too dark to see any,” Jiang Yanli replies in a gasp.
“Well, if you see any, I’m usually cleaner than this,” Wen Qing says, walking her backwards until the backs of Jiang Yanli’s calves touch the bed. Wen Qing gently sits her down on the edge of the bed and tries to lean in to kiss her again, but Jiang Yanli is faster. There are naked breasts in front of her face and she does the only thing that seems reasonable, placing her hands on both of them and leaning to lick a clean stripe between them. Wen Qing shudders in her arms, exhaling a long sigh and bending slightly over her, kissing the top of her head.
“Do that again,” she says. Jiang Yanli does, rubbing Wen Qing’s nipples between her fingers, pulling away from Wen Qing’s sternum to lick the nipples trapped between her splayed fingers. Wen Qing’s knees go weak and Jiang Yanli does all she can to support her, but it’s difficult to hold her up from underneath. She realizes with a start that what she needs is Wen Qing on top of her, naked, as soon as possible.
“You’re wearing too much,” she says into the awkward tangle of their limbs. Wen Qing laughs, pulling herself to full height.
“I am wearing too much?” she asks, and a rush of air tells Jiang Yanli that there was a - probably accusatory - movement in her direction. Right. She still has the dress on. She has everything on. There is definitely a growing wet spot between her legs. She was definitely not expecting to get laid tonight, though. At least her bra is cute. Well, she thinks it’s cute.
Wen Qing takes a step back and Jiang Yanli gets to her feet, painfully aware that she has at least two layers to get rid of, and close to certain that Wen Qing is watching her in the darkness. Jiang Yanli reaches for the band of her tights and starts pulling, lifting one leg to take them off, only to catch the other one on something lying on the floor. She falls back onto the bed to save herself, but something must have been left on the bed as well, because her back hurts at the dull stab; she can’t help having the air punched out of her at the contact.
“Oh fuck,” is all Wen Qing says and rushes across the room. A small night-light turns on, revealing the alien object in bed to be a huge book of--chemistry? medicine? of some sort or other.
“Ow,” Jiang Yanli says, starfished on the mattress. “Did I just get hurt by a book of medicine?”
“Are you okay?” Wen Qing asks, and her face is different now, focused, amusement entirely gone. Jiang Yanli swallows thickly.
“I think I’m okay,” she says, massaging her back. She looks down from her vantage point on the bed and realizes that the original culprit is just a pair of jeans thrown carelessly onto the floor. “I can see what you meant about the mess.”
“Sorry, I didn’t really expect to bring anyone here, and definitely not today,” Wen Qing says, moving the book along with a collection of other items, mostly notebooks and pens, off the bed. Once she’s done, Wen Qing looks like she wants to say something but decides not to, judging by the way she rolls her shoulders back and stays silent.
“I think you should take off your jeans,” Jiang Yanli says, still splayed on the bed, clothed and making no move to rectify that. She gives Wen Qing her best smile.
“Do you, now?” Wen Qing asks, smiling back at her. Jiang Yanli expects her to protest, but it seems that both of them are eager to get their evening back on the right track, because Wen Qing slowly unbuttons and unzips her jeans, looking straight at her. Jiang Yanli’s lower abdomen is a pool of molten heat, the waves of it lapping at every piece of her; her fingers itch, the wetness between her legs still there and still overwhelming.
“Your turn,” Wen Qing says, and Jiang Yanli wants to protest that she didn’t really take anything off, yet, but she complies, lifting her hips to gather the bunched up nylon and pull it down her left leg. She leaves it there, staring at Wen Qing. She obliges, shimmying out of her skinny jeans little by little, revealing toned thighs that Jiang Yanli immediately wants wrapped around her head. The thought buzzes, accelerating the spread of warmth. She leans in to take off her tights the rest of the way just as Wen Qing finishes taking off her jeans. They both drop their clothes on the floor, and Jiang Yanli moves to stand up, gathering her hair and tying it in a high bun to avoid it getting into the zipper of the dress.
“Can you help?” she asks, even though she is perfectly capable of taking the dress off herself. Wen Qing steps toward her wordlessly, then kisses the nape of her neck. She keeps kissing her as she unhooks the fastening and slowly starts unzipping the dress. She goes down with the zipper, pressing her lips along Jiang Yanli’s spine. She helps her out of the sleeves and when the time comes, unceremoniously drops the dress to the floor. Jiang Yanli makes no move to pick it up, instead turning to face her.
“You are beautiful,” Wen Qing says, placing a kiss on Jiang Yanli’s cheek. “But that dress washes you out.”
Jiang Yanli, bemused, realizes that maybe Wen Qing is correct in the sentiment. Then her mind snaps back to what she said first and Jiang Yanli blushes with what feels like her entire body. She cups Wen Qing’s face and kisses her again, pulling her close. They kiss for a few moments, until Jiang Yanli’s world tips over when she is pushed, gently but firmly, onto the bed. She realigns herself into a half-sitting position and takes off her bra, tossing it to the side, before Wen Qing climbs onto the bed as well; she is between her legs, looking down at Jiang Yanli’s mostly naked body and Jiang Yanli should feel self-conscious but doesn’t, not in a way that would make it unpleasant. She feels looked at and admired, but not like a statue in a museum, because Wen Qing’s gaze is followed by a pair of warm hands caressing her with utmost gentleness, until they land on her thighs, then the skin on their inner side, until finally, one of her hands slowly pushes up to cover the wet fabric of Jiang Yanli’s underwear. They both gasp at the touch.
“I can’t wait to find out how wet you really are,” Wen Qing says, leaning in to take one of Jiang Yanli’s nipples into her mouth, drawing a prolonged sigh out of her. Jiang Yanli thinks she can hear Wen Qing swear under her breath when she releases her nipple, pressing her fingers further into the fabric between Jiang Yanli’s legs, making her gasp. She moves down the length of Jiang Yanli’s body, kissing every piece of skin she can reach, and then settles between her legs. Wen Qing pulls herself up to her elbows and then closer, so close that Jiang Yanli can feel her hot breath on the skin of her inner thigh.
Wen Qing bows low and places her mouth on Jiang Yanli through the fabric of her underwear. They both moan; Jiang Yanli is surprised at the throaty noise coming out of Wen Qing, who noses at the already very wet spot.
“You smell amazing,” Wen Qing says, lifting her head and hand, pushing her arm forward until she can scratch her fingernails across Jiang Yanli’s stomach. Jiang Yanli pulses with it. She moves her hands to push down her underwear and for a second she thinks that Wen Qing might stop her, but she does nothing until the offending clothing is halfway down Jiang Yanli’s thighs. Only then does she help pull Jiang Yanli’s underwear all the way down her legs and toss it to the side, all the while moving down the bed until she stands up and unceremoniously does the same with her own underwear. Wen Qing lies back down, moving up on the bed and squeezing herself in close between Jiang Yanli’s open legs. She then begins to kiss Jiang Yanli’s thighs.
Jiang Yanli might go insane with the teasing, but it’s also been such a long time since anyone caressed her quite so lovingly that she doesn’t mind it. She tries to stop thinking and relax; it seems to work, because Wen Qing hums with appreciation before she dives straight in for Jiang Yanli’s clit.
“Fuck,” Jiang Yanli moans loudly, tensing at once at the short licks and long swipes of Wen Qing’s tongue over her. Wen Qing doesn’t stop and instead begins to suck gently on her clit, waiting for Jiang Yanli to loosen up again. She does, and the small licks are back, gentle but incessant. Then, the long swipes return, alternating the licks, but running from over the opening of her up to the nub of her clit, driving Jiang Yanli utterly insane. Or, at least, she feels on the brink for what feels like hours but is probably minutes; it lasts until Wen Qing finds a completely new edge for her to cling to as she dips her head lower and pushes her tongue as far as it will go inside Jiang Yanli’s dripping pussy.
Jiang Yanli moans in broken bits and pieces of sound as Wen Qing fucks her with her tongue with her nose pressed into the hood of Jiang Yanli’s clit.
Wen Qing rocks into her, using the momentum to deepen the press of her tongue inside her and groans around it, hot air waves blowing whenever she slows down to take a breath. She flicks her tongue with a sort of finality and pushes herself up; the breath she takes is like she came up from underwater. She beams, her face wet and reddish from where it kept brushing up against Jiang Yanli’s pubic hair. Wen Qing looks striking, Jiang Yanli thinks dazedly.
“You good?” Wen Qing asks, going back down, and Jiang Yanli is only able to make some sort of confirmation-noise.
She thinks she is ready for Wen Qing to start again, but the second dive is even more overwhelming than the first. Wen Qing fucks her with her tongue over and inside her, and Jiang Yanli lets go of the sheets to squeeze her breasts and focus on feeling every part of herself. It lasts until Wen Qing emerges again. Jiang Yanli begins to slip into a frustrated spiral until Wen Qing goes back to licking her clit and pushes fingers inside her. Right then, everything seems to slot in the right place. Jiang Yanli’s breath quickens despite her and she whines and pushes against Wen Qing.
“You’re so warm, so wet, you’re amazing,” Wen Qing says in between a series of licks. “Let go, let go.”
The words unlock something weird inside Jiang Yanli, because before she knows it, she’s coming. Wen Qing fucks her through it with unerring determination, and Jiang Yanli comes for what feels like hours, her vision going white. Finally, Wen Qing’s movements begin to falter, but before she can stop, Jiang Yanli begs.
“A-Qing, please,” she says, half-sobbing around the words. “Keep going.”
It must work, because Wen Qing inhales so loudly even the haze of orgasm is not able to block it out, and comes back to pushing into her with fingers and tongue. Jiang Yanli keens and finally starts coming down, her entire body exhausted like she’s just run a marathon.
“Fuck. Fuck,” Wen Qing says, with feeling. “You didn’t mention that before.” There is an air of wonder in her voice.
Jiang Yanli’s mind and mouth both feel like they’re filled with cotton balls. She forces herself to mutter a garbled what.
“You didn’t mention squirting,” Wen Qing says matter-of-factly.
“I don’t,” Jiang Yanli says after a long pause. The cold wetness under her is becoming uncomfortable. She shivers slightly.
“You most certainly do,” Wen Qing says, and moves next to her, kissing her breast and cheek before lying down. “It was incredibly hot,” she says, like one would say that the sky is blue and taxes exist.
“You’re hot,” Jiang Yanli says. It makes sense. Wen Qing laughs. “Come, stay on top of me for a bit, I’m cold.”
Wen Qing does so without saying anything. She puts one of her legs between Jiang Yanli’s and when Jiang Yanli bends her knee experimentally, Wen Qing sighs softly.
“It’s okay, A-Qing,” Jiang Yanli tells her and kisses the side of her neck. “Show me what you need,” she whispers into Wen Qing’s hair and feels herself blushing to the roots of her hair despite the orgasm she’s just had. Wen Qing sighs once more and lets herself be supported and maneuvered, then starts moving up and down on Jiang Yanli’s thigh.
Jiang Yanli’s insides stir once more at the feeling of Wen Qing’s slickness spreading on her skin.
“How are you so wet?” she asks before she can stop herself. Wen Qing just laughs and leans in for an open-mouthed, lazy kiss.
“You,” she says once they part.
“You should’ve left me some energy because you definitely need to sit on my face,” Jiang Yanli says, words spilling out of her mouth before her brain can consult on any of them. Wen Qing shudders, speeding up her movements. Jiang Yanli shifts, supports herself on her forearms and elbows to take one of Wen Qing’s nipples into her mouth. Wen Qing’s moan turns into a short laugh.
“I’m not going to last long,” she says.
“Whatever feels good,” Jiang Yanli says, turning to the neglected nipple. Wen Qing starts to rut against her faster until Jiang Yanli’s leg hurts, but nothing ever felt as good as this.
“Do you need help, A-Qing?” Jiang Yanli asks sweetly, trying to reciprocate their earlier exchange, but Wen Qing shakes her head and dives for Jiang Yanli’s mouth. They kiss until they’re both gasping for air, until Wen Qing slides off Jiang Yanli and tries to finger herself to completion.
“Let me help,” Jiang Yanli says, moving herself to open Wen Qing’s legs and rest between them. First, she pushes a finger along the length of Wen Qing’s fingers inside her. They move in unison until Wen Qing pulls hers out, gasping, reaching to rub her clit. Before she can make it, Jiang Yanli bends and flicks her tongue experimentally over her. Wen Qing keens, which Jiang Yanli takes as an encouragement to go on. She fingers her at a fast, unrelenting pace, just like Wen Qing was doing to herself before, matching the speed with her mouth. Wen Qing’s moans turn into a staccato of sounds to form a song Jiang Yanli would love to hear every day.
In an attempt to find the last missing thing, Jiang Yanli extends her hand and slightly pinches Wen Qing’s nipple. She doesn’t aim to hurt, but Wen Qing hiccups in response before coming with a strangled moan, her thighs closing around Jiang Yanli’s head until the only thing Jiang Yanli can hear is the rush of blood in her own ears.
“Whoa,” Jiang Yanli says once Wen Qing (regretfully) releases her from her thigh-grip.
“Yeah,” Wen Qing agrees.
They both lie sprawled on the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, breathing rapidly until it slows down for both of them. The silence stretches, becoming slightly awkward until Wen Qing leaves to bring back a wet cloth for Jiang Yanli to clean herself up. She waves away any propositions of going to the bathroom; she will go in the morning, right now the yawning might take her out, and her legs don’t feel real.
They settle under the covers, close to each other but not quite cuddling. At least not until Jiang Yanli decides that cuddling, among many other choices she’s made today, might not be the worst or the most significant in the long run, and snuggles close to Wen Qing’s chest. As she slowly drifts off, she thinks that someone might be petting her hair, but she can’t open her eyes anymore to make sure.
Warm linen against skin, brightness and warmth, orange-tinted day not yet welcomed under closed eyelids. The warmth and the smell of someone else against her; the push and pull of fabric in between fingers and then closed fists. Overwhelming wet warmth and gasps of pleasure; fingers digging into the meat of her thigh. Fingers pressed against and then into her wetness and a bright, beaming smile that is shy and intimate all at once. Fingers hooked just below the hairline and a too-shallow, smiling kiss with teeth clanking; harmonized gasps with foreheads touching until everything whites out for a second only to come back narrowed to a pair of incredibly large, brown eyes and kiss-swollen plush mouth and--
Jiang Yanli wakes up to an almost absolute darkness. She can hear the pitter patter of raindrops against the window, but with the curtains drawn, there is almost no light. Wen Qing is wrapped around her back and has an arm slung over Jiang Yanli’s middle--a warm presence in an otherwise unknown environment. Jiang Yanli bemoans leaving her purse in the hall, because there is no alarm clock that she can see. It must be early, though, or so she hopes, although she feels rested enough that maybe she did get a full night’s sleep despite how late they turned in. Wen Qing must feel her moving, because she mumbles into the skin of her back.
“What time is it?”
“I don’t know,” Jiang Yanli replies. “I left my phone in the hall,” she says.
She wonders how many unanswered messages are going to greet her. She doesn’t do this often.
Wen Qing grunts in displeasure and burrows herself further in the duvet behind her. She squeezes Jiang Yanli’s breast, gently, experimentally, and Jiang Yanli huffs in amusement. “Want to go again?” she asks.
“I wish,” Wen Qing mumbles, sliding her hands down Jiang Yanli’s side. Each of her words is punctuated by a yawn. Jiang Yanli tells herself that she is not disappointed.
“You have somewhere to be?” Jiang Yanli asks, turning in bed to face her properly. Before an answer comes, she is greeted by a pair of hands cupping her face and a long kiss that she should probably feel bad about, but doesn’t.
“Technically, no, I guess I just assumed that you would,” Wen Qing says, still yawning. It’s contagious, but Jiang Yanli uses the time to calm down the flicker of disappointment and quickly go over the things she is supposed to attend to today. There is nothing pressing, but she needs to check her phone, and maybe she should come up with an excuse to leave anyway-- It was only supposed to be a one night stand anyway.
“Stop thinking,” Wen Qing says, pushing herself up to support her head on her elbow and placing her other hand on the side of Jiang Yanli’s neck. “I just assumed you’d have to go to work, or something. That’s all.”
“Oh,” Jiang Yanli says. Her mind is blank; she scrambles to think of an answer more eloquent than this. “Do you have to go to work?”
“As far as I know, I’m free,” Wen Qing says, her eyes shining with the spark that Jiang Yanli might even miss, once this ends. She smiles back at Wen Qing, and leans in to kiss her cheek. She pulls back and lies flat on her back, sighing. Wen Qing uses the opportunity to move on top of her, one thigh placed firmly between her legs. Jiang Yanli tries to ignore the sudden influx of warmth all over her, not just the parts Wen Qing is covering with her body. She closes her eyes and curses internally, because Wen Qing has a profound effect on her, and when she moves her leg slightly, Jiang Yanli realizes that she’s very much game.
There is an energetic knock on the door.
“Fuck,” Wen Qing swears and swings off of her, pooling the covers around them both as she sits up. “What is it?” she says, raising her voice for the other party (her brother?) to hear.
“Sorry, A-jie, it’s-- your phone’s been going off for the past five minutes,” a disembodied male voice tells them from behind the door. Wen Qing jumps out of bed, and turns to Jiang Yanli.
“So sorry about this,” she says, quietly, stealing a kiss as she stands up. “A-Ning, please hand me the phone through the door,” she says, louder again, and opens the door slightly. She mumbles her thanks as she shuts the door and answers the still-ringing phone.
Jiang Yanli tries to tune out the conversation and instead climbs out of the bed to search for her underwear and clothes. She only has time to put on her underwear before Wen Qing is done with the call.
“I have to go to work,” she says, looking genuinely displeased by the turn of events. “I’m really sorry,” she says in one instance, and in the next, she’s close to Jiang Yanli, pulling her in for a deep kiss. “Take as much time as you need, I need to leave as soon as possible. I’m-- fuck-- sorry,” she says, kissing Jiang Yanli again, then pulls a dressing gown out of nowhere and sprints outside.
Jiang Yanli is left alone in the still-dark room where she starts to put her tights and dress back on. She feels weirdly self-conscious about it now; the light color of her dress is a bright splotch of white among the darkness. Once dressed, she sits down on the bed and tries to regain her balance. Outside, she can barely hear the sound of running from room to room over the sound of rain. She hasn’t got an umbrella with her. She sits there for a few minutes longer, not looking forward to meeting the brother of her one night stand. If she could go out of a window, she would-- She mentally scolds herself. People have sex, it’s fine, even if she is about to go out and meet a brother who will know exactly what his sister got up to last night, and with whom, once she emerges from the safety of Wen Qing’s room.
Breathe in, breathe out.
She gets to her feet, hoping that her face is not an unsalvageable mess, and leaves the safety of the dark room to leave the night behind along with it. Outside the room the sound of rain grows less audible, replaced by the sound of someone moving around the kitchen nook. The lights are brightly lit to banish the darkness of the morning and Jiang Yanli blinks a few times, chasing away the remnants of sleep. There is a door opposite Wen Qing’s room and she assumes that it must be her brother’s, because from what she noticed yesterday in the dim light, the bathroom should be right next to the front door. Brightly lit, the space of the apartment seems a lot smaller than what it felt like yesterday evening. She supposes many things did.
She takes another breath and steels herself as much as she can to be her least awkward self. She has had a lot of practice over the years; she can be attentive to other people’s needs and tune out her own. It seems that now she must pay her dues for temporarily forgetting her place. She plasters on her most pleasant smile and moves into the hall separating the small living room from the even smaller kitchen.
“Hello,” she says, aiming for a bright, cheery tone. Wen Qing’s brother drops what sounds like cutlery into the sink, making a horrible ruckus in the process.
“Oh, hello,” he says, turning around to face her. He has washing gloves and the most adorable apron on, dark olive-green with a huge daisy in the front. His face goes through several different expressions before stopping on a very awkward smile; then he nods. No need to worry about her own awkwardness, then. “I’m sorry, jiejie has already left for the hospital, she told me to apologize for her.”
“The hospital? Is something wrong?” Jiang Yanli asks before she can stop herself; it’s who she is, after all.
“The other cardiothoracic surgeon didn’t show up for work, and his patient got worse,” says a horrifyingly familiar voice behind her. She swings around so fast she would be worried about whiplash if she wasn’t so terrified. Leaning over the back of the couch with a mug of something steaming—coffee, she knows it’s incredibly strong dark coffee with an insane amount of sugar—is A-Xian, whose mouth forms into a perfect round “o” of surprise.
“Jiejie is a doctor,” Wen Qing’s brother helpfully supplies behind Jiang Yanli, and she turns instinctively at the sound. “Oh, but she left you a note,” he says, smiling happily, perhaps glad to have remembered. He pulls it out of his apron pocket and hands it to her. It’s wet and soapy where his gloves have touched it. Jiang Yanli couldn’t for the life of her care less. She pockets the note and returns the smile, all the while feeling her face lose its color.
“Sorry, I should have introduced us. I’m Wen Qing’s brother, Wen Ning, and this is my friend, Wei Wu--“
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Yanli finishes for him and turns around slowly. It’s rude; she mentally kicks herself for doing it.
“Jie?” A-Xian asks, like he is not necessarily sure he is seeing correctly. Jiang Yanli hopes that this is an insane dream and maybe she has not woken up yet. Can you have sex so intense you start hallucinating? She’s pretty sure that if the answer is yes, Wen Qing would be capable of providing the service.
She sighs.
“Excuse me,” she says and goes straight for what she assumes is the bathroom. Luckily, she is correct, because once she sits down on the closed toilet, she realizes she’s going to need a long moment. She is not sure she has the strength to get up and leave to face her brother again. She might have to take a shower just to regain her sanity.
She remembers the note Wen Ning gave her and pulls it out. The paper has dried some, and the fabric of her dress pocket must have absorbed some of the water, because the spot previously wet is now only slightly moist and creased under her fingers. She opens it and reads it a few times over. Something light tugs at her heart and she smiles, despite herself.
Sorry again!
Call me. #171[…]029
- A-Q
She is at the end of the pier, alone. The sun is high in the sky and the water of the lake shimmers between lotus leaves and flowers in full bloom. She turns around to see her, smiling, wearing red robes over purple underrobes. She says something she cannot understand, but when she is pulled towards her, she catches herself with one hand on the small of her back, over the red sash, and one on her neck, leaning into a soft, warm kiss. The warmth of the sun and their bodies feels like they're being ignited and--