Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan doesn’t mind the drive home.

Saturday night shifts have her working until 5:30, and it’s the middle of May, so she often drives home on Sunday mornings to a blood orange sunrise. She watches the world change second by second, orange sun to pink sky. It’s always quiet this early – or late, depending on who you are. It’s blissful, this quiet – there’s the thrum of her car, but the world outside of herself is so still and un-encroaching, it’s as if she wasn’t there at all.

She enjoys getting home at sunrise. She can end her day how she started it – in quiet daylight.

She parks in her spot in the underground garage, collects her messenger bag, and waits for the elevator. The up arrow button doesn’t light up, and just like that Lan Zhan’s forehead starts to crease – the peaceful spell broken. It's the fourth time this month that the elevator from the parking garage hasn’t worked. Being told three times that something is broken is so embarrassingly inadequate to Lan Zhan that she almost feels bad for the bitchy email she’s going to send her landlord – the fourth one.

Writing out the opening sentence in her head As i’m sure you remember from my previous emails, Kevin….

She’s almost smirking to herself when the body rams into her side. Arms instinctively wrapping around the small, soft, warm thing that’s disrupted her space, Lan Zhan’s feet stutter momentarily to regain balance. The face that looks up to her is startlingly pretty. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, eyes deep yet bright, and stunned like a fawn, looking up at her. The girl's mouth falls open like she’s going to make a noise and Lan Zhan’s eyes snap to the pink tongue before it quickly retreats. The pretty face brightens, like opening black out curtains to a sunny morning, as the girl breaks out into a wide smile that takes up her whole face, seems to almost spill out of her.

“Uhh,” the girl breathes. “Ahaha whoops.” She sounds out of breath. Lan Zhan stares at her.

There’s laughter happening around them. Lan Zhan couldn’t care less, but then the girl joins them, laughing in frankly the cutest laugh Lan Zhan has ever heard. It is unseemly for a laugh to be so endearing.

The girl is drunk, Lan Zhan realizes – the blush on her cheeks, the way her hair looks like she’s been shaking her head all night, the way her body is moving like she’s underwater. It’s six in the morning and she’s with what are presumably her friends, drunk and stumbling around the city. Her tight leather skirt is not appropriate for the weather, neither is the strappy crop top hugging tight around her chest, the bottom of an opal belly ring poking out from the bottom.

When Lan Zhan tears her eyes away from where what is definitely a thong riding up above the girl's skirt, she sees her giggling, bottom lip dented by her front teeth, eyes crinkled endearingly — like she’s about to tell a secret.

“Sorry,” the girl says. Though, she does not sound very sorry at all, she sounds like she’s suppressing a full blown laugh. Lan Zhan, however, does not feel that it’s at her expense. People laugh when they’re nervous, and Lan Zhan makes people nervous. Lan Zhan decides she likes the way this girl looks when she’s nervous.

“I – I’m Wei Ying,” the girl says – unprompted, Lan Zhan notes.

She quirks an amused eyebrow. Wei Ying’s friends are still giggling, and they start to pull her arm to keep walking down the sidewalk. They might be saying something, but Lan Zhan pays them no attention. Wei Ying hasn’t taken her eyes off of Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan pictures three different positions she wants to fuck her in.

She takes her time, deliberately looking Wei Ying up and down. “Alright,” she says, and hears the small intake of breath. She has to remind her mouth not to curl up.

“Okay,” Wei Ying breathes.

Lan Zhan makes sure to not move a muscle in her face, just holds Wei Ying’s eye contact, and can practically feel the way she wants to squirm under her gaze. This is a game, one of the only games Lan Zhan is good at.

“Well um, okay. Sorry for bumping into you… Oh hey! Do you live in this building? We’re neighbors! I’m literally like four buildings down!” All of her exclamations run into each other like one long breathless sentence.

Four buildings down. Convenient.

Taking the chance that she will see this girl again around their neighborhood, Lan Zhan keeps playing, ups the game.

“Mn,” she says, overtly looking Wei Ying up and down again, lingering on all the places her skin is exposed and keeping her expression coldly neutral, even when she hears Wei Ying let out a little squeak. Lan Zhan lets her expression turn darker as she looks Wei Ying straight in the eyes.

“Then perhaps we will see each other again,” she says flatly, as if she couldn’t care less.

She turns and walks into her building, leaving the very hot girl with her mouth open in stunned silence, and her friends hiding their giggling.

*

Lan Zhan does not hate her job. 

Really, she doesn’t. There are noisy people everywhere, she might as well get paid to endure them. 

She arrives at the club exactly fifteen minutes before the start of her shift, like always. She tidily puts her things in her locker, and ignores the manager that’s flipping the lights on around the club – she’s not paid to talk to him.  

She puts her airpods in, hits play on blue water road and starts the familiar bar opening routine: refill napkins, refill straws, clean jigger goes into a glass of water, well liquors that are more than half empty need new bottles brought into the bottom right cabinet in reach for when the open bottle runs out. She slices limes, lemons, oranges, and she taps her tongue to the roof of her mouth in time with the music. 

She likes making drinks – it’s science, being precise, working with your hands, and minimal added emotional labor. It suits her just fine. She likes the strip club because she normally works the back bar, out of sight from patrons, just filling drink orders and giving shift drinks to dancers. But even when she’s in the front, men are far busier with the dancers to interact with her. Which is good, since she does not care for interacting with most men.

She doesn’t wear the corset that the other bartenders have to wear – she had flat out refused; instead, she wears a black waistcoat over a fitted black t-shirt. The short sleeves hug her arms, accentuating her kick-boxing toned biceps. The waistcoat is cinched, not too tight over abs, but it strains a bit against her chest. She has her short hair pulled into a little ponytail at the top of her head, exposing the undercut and buzzed sides – she wears it down and floppy sometimes, but it’s Saturday night and she’s working a double so she decides it’s best kept out of her way. 

She feels her phone vibrate eight times in a row and sighs. Xichen. She pulls out her phone to eight messages sent one after another with an obscene number of emojis. She types a quick reply about being at work and promising to call tomorrow.

Staying in the U.S. hadn’t exactly been the plan. But it’s fine. How her life is unfolding. Her brother had told her to go, so she did. She did the prestigious hospitality program in the states. Her brother had connected her with his boyfriend's younger brother – also in the states, in the same city, even! Isn’t that something, a-Zhan? 

Nie Huaisang is a DJ. His mixes are… interesting. It’s music that objectively requires some talent to produce, and it seems to be fairly popular. Lan Zhan never listens to it. Outside of playing shows, Nie Huaisang has worked as the daytime DJ at Heavenly Maiden for over a year now. 

Lan Zhan completed the hospitality program with honors after two years, and moving back to Shanghai had seemed… arduous. Working for one of her family’s luxury hotels had seemed… less than enjoyable. Huaisang finagled a bartending position at the strip club before Lan Zhan had even officially asked, so now, Lan Zhan – stone cold antisocial butch dyke Lan Zhan – is a bartender at a gentlemen’s club. 

“Got some calls about auditions tonight!” the opening manager - Rick - says too excitedly, in Lan Zhan’s opinion. He rubs his grubby little hands together like he’s about to dig into his favorite meal. Lan Zhan frowns, but it’s small enough that he doesn’t notice. “Did you hear me, June?” 

Lan Zhan’s lip quirks – the English name she chose never ceases to be a little funny to her. Xichen was the one who always used to call her “xiǎo jūn – little lord,” because of how she carried herself like a little prince from the moment she could hold her head up on her own. She likes when people she does not respect call her lord without knowing it. Regardless, she still gives Rick a muted side look to clearly communicate that she will not be engaging while she’s setting up the bar. 

*

Lan Zhan has a rule. Alright, she has many rules. One of her most important Work Rules is that she does not fuck any of the dancers that work at the club. She only needed to make that mistake once. They fucked in the back seat of her car during a smoke break on her first shift and quickly learned how uncomfortable it is when you have to continue to see someone multiple times a week in a professional capacity after you’ve fingerbanged them through three orgasms and then told them no, you are not interested in getting food after work or going on a date, ever.  

However. She very suddenly wants to rethink her rule, when the first audition of the night almost has her dropping a seven hundred dollar bottle of champagne. She ignores the looks from the servers and other bartenders, placing the bottle of Perrier-Jouët Fleur in an ice bucket, and not taking her eyes off the stage as Wei Ying walks up the steps. 

Her legs look infinitely longer in her chunky black boot pleasers, laced up tight around her tiny calves. Her arms are lanky but toned – under the stage lights every part of her body is like she’s been annotated, on display and accentuated. Her small tits are bouncing perfectly in her red lace push up, and the matching thong is tight, digging into her swaying hips. Her ass is spilling over her tight black garters. Lan Zhan is livid about it. 

Wei Ying takes the pole with confidence. She throws herself upside down into a spin and Lan Zhan has to experience a slew of emotions in the face of how talented and impressive she is. Lan Zhan may or may definitely have a competence kink. She watches Wei Ying spin around the pole to Toxic of all songs, watches her shake her ass – barely moving her ankles at all, watches her crawl around the stage as men approach her and she gives them a smile so alike to the one she gave to Lan Zhan outside of her building last week. It makes Lan Zhan want to growl like a fucking dog. 

Wei Ying gets hired, obviously, and it takes her an annoying amount of time to finally notice Lan Zhan at the back bar when she comes to get a shift drink. She’s already had three different guys buy her drinks, but they don’t seem to be having any effect on her tight little body. 

“OMG!” (She actually says oh em gee instead of ‘oh my god.’ Jesus Christ, Lan Zhan thinks). “It’s you! You work here?! O-M-G!” 

Lan Zhan presses white knuckles onto the bar.

“Hello.” She tries to regard Wei Ying casually, like she’s not at all panicking. 

She’s putting in a hero’s effort to keep her cool, but has to admit that she has been severely thrown off her game by this development, as it stands half naked and a little flushed at her bar. 

“This is so crazy! Isn’t this crazy?! Wow. What a night. I’m so glad I got hired. I wasn’t actually nervous, but a new club is always a little scary, you know? And YOU work here! Does this mean I finally get to learn your name?” Wei Ying is beaming, her tits bouncing a little – too much. Lan Zhan can see both of her perky nipples through the lace, they’re dark and not at all small. It’s a lot for Lan Zhan to deal with. Wei Ying is wearing a thick layer of perfume that’s heavy in amber and vanilla, notes of jasmine and honeysuckle – maybe – she would need to get nose-to-neck close to know for sure. 

“Mn. I do work here. Yes.” It comes out characteristically cold, and even though it is an objectively stupid thing to say, it still seems to make Wei Ying giggle nervously. It will have to do. 

“You’re a bartender?” She asks.

“Mn.”

“Wellllll, then can you make me a drink, Miss Bartender? Or, wait. Do I have to ask a manager? I’ve kind of already forgotten everything from that orientation.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan shakes her head. “You can ask me, I just need your name.” 

“Oh!” Wei Ying blushes, clearly realizing that someone at the club knows her real name. Lan Zhan should reassure her that she would never use her real name here. If only the nervous blush on her cheeks were not so becoming. 

“Well… You first, Miss Bartender,” Wei Ying says, still pink in the face. 

Lan Zhan does not move or speak, continuing to calculate how to re-secure her upper hand somehow. Luckily, as Lan Zhan assumed, Wei Ying is impatient, and after only a few moments of silent eye contact she rolls her eyes and blows out an adorable raspberry with her lips. 

“Fine, fine. Whatever. It’s Shea.” 

Lan Zhan nods, victorious. “What’s your drink?”

“Vegas bomb, please!”

“Vegas… Bomb.”

“Yeah! They’re good! It’s crown royal and peach –”

“I know what it is,” Lan Zhan interrupts.

Wei Ying’s expression stutters and Lan Zhan continues to stare at her. A fucking vegas bomb? Who is this girl and why is her drink of choice a shot that consists of crown royal, peach schnapps, cranberry juice, and redbull?

“Oh. Then why did you –” Wei Ying starts. 

“It’s a disgusting drink,” Lan Zhan says, but gets out her boston shaker and grabs the bottle of Crown. 

She hears Wei Ying laugh behind her and it almost makes Lan Zhan not annoyed at having to make the ludacris drink. Wei Ying waits patiently – something Lan Zhan is assuming is quite the feat for her – while she combines the horrid ingredients into her shaker, strains it, and tops it with a splash of red bull. 

When she finally hands her the drink, their fingers brush. 

“Lan Zhan,” she says, nodding at Wei Ying. 

“What?” Wei Ying asks, smiling into her drink.

“My name. It’s Lan Zhan.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying looks like she doesn’t know what to say, like she was maybe expecting to have to work harder for Lan Zhan to give up her name. 

“They call me June here. It is easier for them.”

“June… June like…” Wei Ying starts to giggle. Lan Zhan almost smiles.

*

“It’s a good song!” Wei Ying says, when Lan Zhan gives her a look . This god awful Chain Smokers’ song plays at least once a day at the club. Lan Zhan really needs to have words with Huaisang about it. 

“It just pulls at your heartstrings! Like yeah! What if we never got older!” Wei Ying continues, waggling her booted feet on the bar seat, like a child. 

It’s still pretty early, and there’s only a couple of groups at the club along with a few singular bar sitters. It’s only been a few weeks, but the two of them have started to fall into this rhythm when it’s slow. Lan Zhan tidying the bar, Wei Ying watching. Talking. Crawling under Lan Zhan’s skin. 

“What’s wrong with getting older?” Lan Zhan asks. As someone who has always felt older than she actually is, she has no qualms in aging. In fact, she thinks that she’ll make even more of a killing with salt and pepper hair and contemporaries not in their twenties. 

“Nothing’s wrong with getting older, Lan Zahn,” she says, cutely exasperated. “I’m not afraid of growing up. I just don’t wanna.” 

She hops up, noticing one of the men at the bar looking at her and holding two shots of tequila another bartender just poured. She scurries down to the far side of the bar and throws it back like it’s water. She leans into the guy and smiles in a way that makes even Lan Zhan want to empty her bank account. 

*

It’s on their sixth shared shift that Lan Zhan gets the bad news. It’s news that she does not entirely believe. Though tragically, she believes that Wei Ying believes it – that Wei Ying is in fact: straight. 

“I honestly love that most of the men here are too stupid to realize that most of us are at least a little gay,” Sasha says, rolling her eyes and leaning against the bar as she waits for Lan Zhan to finish her tequila pineapple. It’s a slow Monday, and she sort of likes when they hang about the bar and talk. She listens and they never expect her to be particularly involved. It’s enjoyable. 

“They really think that we want on their dick, meanwhile I'm texting my girlfriend all the stupid shit they say to me in VIP,” Raven laughs. They lean their heads in conspiratorially and she sips her chardonnay. 

Lan Zhan smirks, and they all catch it. 

“Yes yes, we all know you’re gay as fuck June,” Sasha says fondly, reaching across the bar for Lan Zhan’s hand. Lan Zhan gives her a soft look and allows her to squeeze her fingers before handing her her drink. 

“You are?” Wei Ying asks with genuine surprise on her face. She’s swinging her legs on the bar stool, inspecting a bruise on her right knee. Lan Zhan gives her a doubtful look, but Wei Ying’s expression stays innocently curious. 

Sasha and Raven dissolve into laughter. 

“I mean! Look at her!” Raven all but squeals, pointing at Lan Zhan. 

Years ago, something like that would’ve sent Lan Zhan into an internal or (if she’s being completely honest) external fit of rage. But Lan Zhan has grown affectionate towards some of the dancers – she almost laughs with them. It’s like having friends.

“Are you not?” Sasha asks Wei Ying lightly, almost at the same time as Raven’s exclamation, still laughing. Lan Zhan sympathizes with the surprise in Sasha’s voice. 

Wei Ying pales a little. “Uh. Um. Well. No, I guess.” She squirms in her seat. “I’ve only been with men.”

“My condolences,” Sasha says and sips her drink. 

“I don’t know,” Wei Ying says again, her voice surprisingly vulnerable. “I haven't really dated that much.”

“Well, so, do you have a man now?” Raven asks, with much decorum. Lan Zhan feels her ears both heat and perk up. 

Wei Ying blushes, then smirks. “I'm doing alright.”

Sasha and Raven whoop in laughter and start pretending to smack Wei Ying’s perfect ass. Wei Ying indulges them, sticking out one of her hips and shaking it. She dips her head and looks at Lan Zhan reservedly, like she’s trying to do it in secret. She bites her lip and quickly turns her head when she finds Lan Zhan looking back at her.

Lan Zhan white knuckles the bottles she’s holding and clenches her jaw. She reminds herself of her rule: no fucking your coworkers. So what does it matter if Wei Ying is straight? If she has a boyfriend? Lan Zhan is not going to try and fuck her, anyway. 

She’s really really not.

*

Lan Zhan is having a bad day. It’s nothing in particular, she would just like it to be tomorrow, immediately. She’s smoking a cigarette out front of the club – the bar is prepped and no patrons are here yet – when she sees a car pull up. It’s a hideous purple dodge charger (why do they even make them like that), but Lan Zhan instantly notices that it has Wei Ying in the passenger seat. She looks so soft in the blue overcast light – her hair thrown up into a bun and her face bare of makeup.

There’s a man about her age in the driver's seat next to her. That’s her boyfriend? He must be an asshole, Lan Zhan decides. Wei Ying has her eyes trained on the ceiling of the car. Lan Zhan takes a drag. The man is yelling, she realizes, full blown squawking while he bangs his fist on the steering wheel. 

That should not be her boyfriend, Lan Zhan thinks, and ignores the added, you should be from her brain. She watches the offensively angry man continue to yell – can practically see the spit flying onto the steering wheel while Wei Ying keeps her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, her long neck exposed. She huffs a bitter laugh, obviously sarcastic. Lan Zhan sighs internally – there are simply too many hot girls with severely inadequate boyfriends.

The man turns to face Wei Ying and for a moment it looks like he’s about to grab her. Lan Zhan is on her feet, flicking the cigarette onto the damp ground, and crossing over to the car before she can think better of it – rage spiking in her blood. She reaches the car with a few quick strides on her long legs and wrenches the door open with such force that Wei Ying jumps. 

“Ah! What the – Oh! Hi Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s eyes go from shocked to soft. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan regards her calmly, staring daggers at the man in the driver's seat. “Is there a problem here?” 

“Who the fuck is this?” The unpleasant man says, not looking at Lan Zhan and directing the question to Wei Ying. The man is so repulsive Lan Zhan can hardly hold back her sneer. She imagines his head exploding into a million pieces. 

“Ahaha Jiang Cheng, please,” Wei Ying says placatingly, sounding a little nervous. “This is Lan Zhan, she’s a bartender! Lan Zhan this is Jiang Cheng, my –”

“Pleasure,” Lan Zhan says through gritted teeth. Wei Ying’s mouth is still open.

“Right,” the man, ‘Jiang Cheng,’ replies, rolling his eyes. An uncomfortable silence falls between the three of them that Lan Zhan couldn’t care less about, as she is using all of her willpower to not reach over Wei Ying and punch this 'Jiang Cheng' square in the nose.

“OoOookay then,” Wei Ying says, awkwardly breaking the tension. “Thanks for the ride a-Cheng,” she adds and grabs her backpack. She accepts Lan Zhan’s extended hand to help her out of the car. She doesn't look back, but Lan Zhan does – she sends that man her best death glare. Jiang Cheng scowls back at her and then tears off down the street. 

Lan Zhan’s blood is boiling – the fact that that man gets to touch Wei Ying, gets to kiss her, fall asleep with her, gets to – 

“Lan Zhan? Are you okay? ... You’re shaking,” Wei Ying lays her hand on where Lan Zhan has a death grip on her wrist. 

Lan Zhan immediately drops her hand, the skin of Wei Ying’s wrist blooming red in the shape of Lan Zhan’s fingers before slowly fading. They stop in the doorway of the club and look at each other. Concern and confusion painting Wei Ying’s bare face. Something in Lan Zhan calms now that she’s looking at her, just her – she’s in arms reach. 

Lan Zhan is vehemently avoiding the reality that it may be that she wants more than to just illicitly fuck her straight coworker. Like – she might want to ALSO cook her dinner, meet her family, braid her hair, kiss every one of her finger tips…. etc.

“I apologize,” Lan Zhan says and clears her throat. 

Wei Ying laughs and Lan Zhan’s eyes darken. Wei Ying’s laugh does things to her. She flexes her fingers by her side to keep from doing something ridiculous like shoving them into Wei Ying’s smiling mouth.

“You’re really intense, you know that, right?” Wei Ying says with something mischievous in her eyes. She sidles up to Lan Zhan’s side and runs her pointer finger up her arm. Lan Zhan’s in a jacket but she feels the acrylic nail like it’s charged with electricity. “And so strong,” she adds with much theater, so clearly holding back her giggle as she blinks cutely up at Lan Zhan with her naked lashes – dark and thick even without mascara. 

This is something else that’s new. The way Wei Ying has started to flirt with her. Ever since their conversation about Wei Ying being straight and Lan Zhan being gay, Wei Ying has started peppering their interactions with it. Lan Zhan is yet to understand the joke of it all. 

Lan Zhan huffs out a breath. “You’re a flirt,” she informs Wei Ying. 

Wei Ying shrugs. “It’s my job!” she chirps, and then walks in the front door and heads for the stairs to the locker room. 

When she makes it onto the floor, she’s in a black faux leather thong and bra set, thigh high boots and fishnets all the way up to her ass and a thick black choker that so closely resembles a collar that Lan Zhan can’t make direct eye contact with it, lest she find something to make a leash out of. 

It’s pretty quiet on the floor, the two guys here are already talking with another dancer so there's not anyone for Wei Ying to pursue. She struts to the end of the bar where Lan Zhan is – her tits bouncing obscenely with every step in her seven inch pleasers. 

“Like what you see?” Wei Ying teases when she plops onto a bar stool with one final bounce of her obscene chest. 

Lan Zhan snaps her gaze up to meet Wei Ying’s eyes. Her dark eye make-up has somehow made her already doll-like eyes even more oogly moogly. 

“Don’t tease,” Lan Zhan says, ears burning at being caught as she pulls up the bottle of crown. 

“You were the one staring!” Wei Ying squeaks happily. 

Which is true. She was. Undeniably. As if it’s Lan Zhan’s fault for undressing Wei Ying in her mind. As if SHE is to blame for imagining how her tits would bounce like that while riding Lan Zhan’s strap. 

“I don’t think you mind,” Lan Zhan says, testing her luck, one handedly shaking the drink. 

Wei Ying squawks, her red lipped mouth wide open. Lan Zhan forces herself not to stare. She hands Wei Ying her drink and Wei Ying throws it back in one go, giving Lan Zhan a look like are you impressed? 

It’s a little hard to take her ploy for power seriously as almost half the drink spills out of her mouth and dribbles down her chin. What is truly captivating is the way it doesn’t seem to phase her at all, a cocky raised eyebrow like she is feeling absolutely no shame as she wipes her mouth with the palm of her hand.

Lan Zhan almost does her version of a laugh, forcing herself not to linger her horny gaze on the way the drink made Wei Ying’s mouth wet. 

The situation from earlier brings her down to reality. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Wei Ying’s boyfriend was treating her the whole time Wei Ying was in the locker room. She takes Wei Ying’s empty glass, and stares at it a moment before putting it with the other dirty glasses. 

“You should not be yelled at like that,” Lan Zhan says, because she shouldn’t.

Wei Ying’s grin falters, her expression falling into something unreadable for a moment, but then she smiles again. Lan Zhan doesn’t know what it means. 

“Ah Lan Zhan Lan Zhan, it’s nothing. Jiang Cheng has always been like that,” Wei Ying waves her hand exemplifying it’s no big deal not realizing how that makes it so much worse to Lan Zhan. Her brow knits together, trying to find the right words, to not overstep, to not show her hand. 

“That’s no excuse for treating someone like that. You do not have to put up with it.”

“Oh but it’s all a part of being a family!” 

Lan Zhan’s stomach drops. Family? Is Wei Ying married to that man? She is in way over her head. 

It also does not help that she is immediately finding the prospect of fucking some shitty dude’s wife extremely... appealing. 

“He really does care about me,” Wei Ying continues, and Lan Zhan hates that she’s created a situation in which now Wei Ying is going to defend that man. “It’s just that his love language is yelling. And anyway! I know I'm no picnic, I really know how to get under his skin.”

Lan Zhan can’t help the ferocious look that takes over her face. How dare anyone make Wei Ying feel like that. 

“Wei Ying ,” she says her name like it strains her, quietly so that no one else could possibly hear. “No partner should make you feel like –” Lan Zhan stumbles on her words, which she absolutely hates, but something is happening on Wei Ying’s face that makes her pause.

“Partner?” Wei Ying asks, looking bewildered, if not a little amused. 

Lan Zhan holds still and waits for the situation to make more sense. 

“You think that…. You think Jiang Cheng is my – ?” and then she starts laughing. She laughs and then she keeps laughing and Lan Zhan would really like Wei Ying to explain to her what is going on. A familiar unease of not being in control of a situation blooming in her chest.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry!” Wei Ying gasps between laughs. “It’s just….” She’s carefully wiping tears that have started to fill her perfectly done up eyes. “Jiang Cheng is my brother , Lan Zhan. Well, adoptive brother, but definitely not my boyfriend .” 

Lan Zhan’s entire brain does a restart with this new information. Brother. Not boyfriend. Not Wei Ying’s boyfriend. 

“So you don’t have a boyfriend?” She asks, and oh that is so not the appropriate response to what Wei Ying just said. 

Wei Ying, who is still laughing, coughs herself out of it and says, “Uh, well, no.”

Many emotions happen in Lan Zhan’s body all at once but all that comes out is, “That’s… Good,” and a sharp head nod. 

*

It’s a busy Thursday night and Lan Zhan has lost track of Wei Ying. It happens. There’s a lot of people on the floor, and she could be in the locker room or in VIP. 

It’s coming up on midnight and she’s not working a double, so she starts closing out her tabs. It has felt like a long shift – lots of unwieldy patrons, and there was something of consequence happening in VIP that ended in bouncers escorting a man out. Lan Zhan is very ready to go home. She tries not to look around the floor too obviously for Wei Ying – it’s not a big deal if she doesn’t get to say goodbye. She’ll see her again, probably tomorrow. Once she’s tipped out she has no more excuses to stay on the floor, so she says goodbye to Wei Ying in her head and starts walking to the cage to clock out.

She sees her in the office. 

She’s wrapped in one of the managers suit coats – it doesn’t look warm. She’s smiling, giggling even. But there are tear streaks through her makeup, and her legs are shaking. 

“What happened.” Lan Zhan demands, as if she doesn’t know. She doesn’t mean for it to come out like an accusation. It almost makes her want to wince at herself, but she is furious . 

She’s so angry that she wants to hurt something, can feel her fists starting to shake, her blunt fingernails digging harshly into her palms. She’s so angry and she knows it’s filling up the room, it’s spilling over to Wei Ying, who really does wince at Lan Zhan’s words. 

Lan Zhan tells herself to take a breath, to be better – it’s not about her. 

Then Wei Ying laughs and Lan Zhan almost loses it. 

“Hah. It was nothing. Some fucking asshole in VIP who thought he was getting something more.” 

Lan Zhan feels like she might need to be physically restrained. 

It’s not the first time it’s happened here, and rationally, she knows it won’t be the last. It’s infuriating every time it happens, but something seems to have snapped in Lan Zhan’s brain now that it’s Wei Ying. How could something like this happen? How could the managers have let this happen? Was no one watching the cameras? What would have happened if Wei Ying hadn’t gotten out of that room when she did? 

It’s that Lan Zhan is looking at this girl that kind of drives her crazy, this girl that can outdrink men twice her size in seven inch heels, this girl who could make a brick wall smile, this girl who is inexplicably more radiant than everyone around her, and she’s hurt . Her knees are bruised from her floor work on stage, her hair looks like it’s had fingers run through it – like maybe it’s been pulled – and her whole body is turned in on itself like she’s trying to hide evidence of some disgusting man trying to shove his fingers into her. 

There’s a cacophony of sounds as people move in and out of the cage – talking about the group that the man was with, checking on Wei Ying, trying to get Lan Zhan to clock out and get out of the way. Lan Zhan doesn’t move, just stares at Wei Ying like if she looks away she will get hurt again. 

“Alright honey, his whole group is gone. Do you want to keep working or go home?” a manager – Steve – asks Wei Ying, kneeling in front of her. 

Wei Ying sniffs. “Thank you. I’m good to keep working. My ride won’t come until 2:00 so –”

“I can drive you home,” Lan Zhan says quickly.

Both Steve and Wei Ying snap their heads up and give her twin looks of surprise. Lan Zhan stays rooted in place, keeping her face as expressionless as she can manage. “I live near Shea. And I’m leaving now. It’s not a problem.” She tries to sound as normal as possible.  

“Really, June, it’s fine. I should keep working. My brother is expecting to pick me up in a couple of hours. I –”

“Shea…” Lan Zhan interrupts. “Please.” She knows her voice is tinged with a hint of the desperation she feels. She just needs to see Wei Ying walk into her house safely – feels that she will be unable to let Wei Ying out of her sight until she does. 

In the back of her mind, she knows she probably needs it more than Wei Ying does. 

“Oh – Okay. Yeah. Okay,” Wei Ying says, her face for once is closed off, unreadable. 

*

They don’t talk for most of the ride home. Lan Zhan doesn’t trust herself to not say something like what did the guy look like so I can find him and kill him with my bare hands, or I know this is a really bad time but I want to know what your tongue tastes like and also hold your hand and maybe keep you safe in my bed forever. 

So, she says nothing. Eventually, Wei Ying breaks the silence. 

“Soooo…. Haha. Weird night huh.” She puts her feet up on the dash and Lan Zhan cringes. Wei Ying continues to stare almost absently out her window. “That guy was a real dick about it too, like he wasn’t even that drunk. Not that that’s an excuse, but he just kept saying ‘okay, baby, okay,’ when I told him to stop or moved his hands away and then five seconds later his hand was back pawing at my pussy like jesus chri –”

“Put your feet down,” Lan Zhan snaps. It feels like the words are punched out of her. 

Wei Ying startles, practically jumping in surprise as she turns her head to look nervously at Lan Zhan’s profile. Lan Zhan’s white knuckling the steering wheel and her jaw is clenched so tight at the placid way Wei Ying is talking that there's not a zero percent chance of her cracking a tooth. 

“S-Sorry,” Wei Ying says, curling in on herself again. Fuck, Lan Zhan is so bad at this. 

“Wei Ying… No,” she tries, talking softer. “No. Don’t be sorry. It’s… I’m sorry. I know this is not about me. I do.” Lan Zhan lets out a huff of frustration.  

“Hey. Hey it’s okay, really,” Wei Ying says, and Lan Zhan groans inwardly, her face twisting up. “Okay – So it’s not okay that the guy did that. It sucks. It fucking sucks. But sometimes it helps to just, I don’t know, talk about it like I'm just complaining about another shitty day at work. Stuff like this makes me feel more mad than it does make me feel like I’m a victim or something. So you don’t need to go all ‘now Wei Ying is made of glass I don't know what to do around her,’ okay?” 

Lan Zhan wants to rip her own head off.  “Of course. Wei Ying. You are allowed to be however you want.” Lan Zhan can feel the heat of embarrassment spreading from her face all the way down to her chest. “I’m sorry… I am…. Clearly not good at this,” Lan Zhan says quietly. She kind of feels like she’s drowning. 

And then Wei Ying laughs, small and sweet. “Yeah, clearly.” The tension in the car starts to dissipate with Wei Ying’s voice, like magic. “You know you come across kinda cold, but there’s a lotta something going on in there,” she says, waggling her fingers at Lan Zhan’s head playfully. “I can tell. It’s like I said, you’re real intense.”

Lan Zhan’s ears heat, but her grip on the wheel relaxes. They pull up to a red light and Lan Zhan turns to look at Wei Ying. Wei Ying looks back. The street lamps hit Wei Ying’s face and all the shadows and edges make her look like she’s some kind of portrait painting. She’s so backlit by the yellow lights that she’s glowing.

As if in a trance, Lan Zhan finds herself saying, “I can be intense about some things. About some… People.” 

Wei Ying’s eyes widen and Lan Zhan looks from her eyes to where her mouth has fallen slightly open. She watches her suck in a breath. 

The light turns green and Lan Zhan turns back to the road. Wei Ying is quiet the rest of the ride apart from directing Lan Zhan to her building, shifting in her seat the whole time like she can’t get comfortable. Lan Zhan pulls up and puts the car in park. The street around them is quiet – a street light a little ahead of them flickers. 

“I’m really okay, you know,” Wei Ying whispers, looking down at her own hands in her lap. 

“I know,” Lan Zan says softly, turning towards her, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. 

“Okay,” Wei Ying breathes, looking up. As if reading Lan Zhan’s mind, she reaches over and squeezes her hand. “Thank you, for the ride, and everything.”

“Anytime,” Lan Zhan says, meaning it more than she should. 

“Okay.”

“Goodnight Wei Ying.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Goodnight.”

And then she’s opening the car door and Lan Zhan is watching her walk away. She waits until she sees her get into her building, turning around at the last moment to wave back at Lan Zhan and smile, bigger this time. 

Lan Zhan drives to her building, parks her car, and has to take the stairs because the elevator is broken again. She falls asleep thinking about how warm Wei Ying’s hand was on hers. 

*

Driving Wei Ying home on Thursdays quickly becomes a habit. Even when it’s busy and Lan Zhan sees no reason for Wei Ying to leave early, she finds Wei Ying waiting for her when she starts closing out tabs and then telling her that she’s tired and wants to leave. 

Interestingly enough, for someone who says she’s tired, she is always instantly full of energy on their drives home – talking about her night, demanding they go to the 24 hour McDonald’s drive thru, telling Lan Zhan anecdotes about friends that she never names, all of them inconsequential little stories, and Lan Zhan drinks it all up, driving just at the speed limit so as not to make the rides home any quicker than necessary. 

“Lan Zhan, do you have a girlfriend?” Wei Ying asks tipsily, out of the blue one Thursday night, and Lan Zhan almost chokes on her milkshake. They aren’t even out of the McDonald’s parking lot. 

“Ah! Sorry! Is that too personal?” Wei Ying says, sounding truly a little embarrassed, though her mouth was just stuffed full with fries so the words come out a little mumbled. 

Lan Zhan flicks her turn signal to pull out of the parking lot. She eases onto the road and says, “It’s alright…” and then adds, with caution, “I do not.” 

Wei Ying hums, considering this. Lan Zhan’s heart can’t help but swell with how dear she is when she’s a little drunk like this. Wei Ying is cute all the time, but there’s something sweet and whimsical about the way she acts when she’s truly relaxed like this.

“Me neither,” Wei Ying says to the ceiling, with absolutely no inflection, and then immediately adds, a little panicked, “A boyfriend, I mean! I don’t have a boyfriend!” 

Lan Zhan gives her a little side eye and sees Wei Ying blushing furiously.

“Okay,” Lan Zhan says indifferently, just to see Wei Ying blush harder. 

“I don’t even know if I really want a boyfriend,” Wei Ying says after a beat. 

“Mm?” Lan Zhan inquires nonchalantly, though her brain has started firing off warning flares. 

“I haven’t had much dating luck. For one, a lot of guys are weird about my job. Either they don’t want to date me because of it or they want to date me waaay too much because of it,” Wei Ying says, then pops an entire chicken nugget into her mouth.

“Mm. Yes. I could see that being an issue,” Lan Zhan replies as neutrally as she can. She can feel Wei Ying shifting in the passenger seat like she’s got more to say. Lan Zhan does not say more, hoping Wei Ying will keep talking. But Wei Ying goes quiet, even though Lan Zhan can see her chewing on her lower lip, clearly thinking hard about something. 

“Lemme try,” Wei Ying says, snapping out of her thoughts and making grabby hands at the milkshake in Lan Zhan’s hand. 

Lan Zhan holds the milkshake up, expecting Wei Ying to grab it. Instead, Wei Ying plants her grabby hands on Lan Zhan’s thigh and leans over to take the straw in her mouth. She closes her eyes and sucks, squeezing Lan Zhan’s thigh. Lan Zhan does not almost crash the car, but, it’s way more a possibility now than it was five seconds ago. Wei Ying makes a pleased noise and it really is not safe, the way Lan Zhan keeps turning her head to look at Wei Ying’s mouth wrapped around the straw. When Wei Ying finally pulls off there's vanilla ice cream dripping off her bottom lip. It makes her look obscene. 

“Mmm. You’re warm,” Wei Ying says, rubbing her hands up and down Lan Zhan’s thigh and leaning over to lay her head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. It can’t be comfortable, her body stretched over the center console, but Wei Ying is snuggling up to her like it is. She smells like the sweet perfume she always wears at work, and Lan Zhan wonders if there are other scents that she wears outside of the club, just as her and not her as Shea. 

When they reach Wei Ying’s apartment building, she is dozing so sweetly on Lan Zhan’s shoulder – not really asleep, but seemingly content. She’s all soft edges and pliant as Lan Zhan puts the car in park. 

“We’re here,” Lan Zhan says, softly, regretfully. 

Wei Ying blinks and turns her head up, sleepy and unfocused.

“You’re pretty,” she says, big sparkly eyes looking up towards Lan Zhan at what can not be the most attractive angle – Wei Ying can probably see up her nose with the way her head is twisted. As if reading her thoughts, Wei Ying adds, “You have just the sweetest little nose, do you know that?” 

The finger that boops her nose is so gentle that Lan Zhan feels her heart swell. 

“Wei Ying… Do you want me to walk you upstairs?” 

“Nooo no no no, I'm okay, Lan Zhan. Just sleepy.” Wei Ying yawns, lifting up from Lan Zhan’s shoulder and leaving what feels like a hollow dent in Lan Zhan’s body. 

She goes to start gathering her things, which have somehow multiplied down by her feet. She pauses and stares at her shoes for a moment. When she turns her head to look at Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan has already turned her way, is looking back at her. Wei Ying inhales sharply. Her eyes are downcast towards Lan Zhan’s mouth.

“I–” Wei Ying starts… “Can I…” Wei Ying licks her lips. 

Lan Zhan stays absolutely still as Wei Ying slowly leans across the console. Lan Zhan sees heat pool in Wei Ying’s eyes, and then her gaze falls to Wei Ying’s plush mouth. 

“I kind of want to know what it feels like,” Wei Ying whispers. 

Wei Ying's lips are warm and petal soft. Their mouths meet in cautious movement, their lips rubbing together in the way Lan Zhan had always imagined her first kiss would. Sweet. Easy. Like they would somehow already know each other’s mouths.

As quick as Wei Ying was to get her lips onto Lan Zhan's, she holds her mouth nervously still, like she doesn’t know what to do now. That’s alright. Lan Zhan’s brain might be reeling, but she doesn’t need it for this. She moves to slot their mouths together, more than a chaste press, but still something delicate. 

Wei Ying’s mouth is burning hot, and Lan Zhan feels her relax as she kisses her slow and gentle, memorizing her mouth. She sucks Wei Ying’s bottom lip into her mouth and feels Wei Ying’s breath hitch. Spurred on, Lan Zhan sucks a little harder, pulling another sweet noise from Wei Ying’s throat, then works her tongue slowly over her trapped bottom lip. 

Lan Zhan momentarily floats out of her body as Wei Ying’s tongue tentatively meets hers at the edge of her mouth. She pushes forward and their tongues roll together into Wei Ying’s mouth. Lan Zhan lifts her hand to Wei Ying’s face. She wants to yank her out of the passenger seat and pull her into her lap, she wants to rip all her clothes off right here in her car, kiss every inch of her body until she’s covered with little bruises shaped like Lan Zhan’s mouth. She settles for the softest graze of fingertips to Wei Ying’s skin, just millimeters from where they’re joined and feels the way their mouths move together. 

She cups Wei Ying’s cheek and pulls a little closer.

Wei Ying gasps and jerks away from the kiss, eyes glossy and dazed. Her pupils are blown wide. Lan Zhan is sure hers are the same. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, her voice a low timbre. 

Wei Ying brings her fingers up to her swollen lower lip and shivers. Lan Zhan doesn’t move or say anything more. She desperately wants to know what Wei Ying is thinking – wants Wei Ying to tell her what she wants. She feels dizzy and off-kilter.

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to the ground in front of her and she starts frantically pushing all of her things into her bag.

“I – I have to go, I’m sorry. I’ll um, I’ll see you soon? Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” And then she’s tumbling out of the car before Lan Zhan can stop her. 

She is too stunned to move. She wants to call out to her, to bring her back, to tell her it’s okay, to kiss her again. 

She bangs the side of her head on the head rest and watches her go, instead.

Chapter Text

“Oh my god oh my god oh my GOD. What was I THINKING?!” 

Wei Ying is alone in her bedroom. It’s been two days and it’s all she can think about. She had kissed Lan Zhan. Kissed her! A woman! She had kissed a woman! She! Her! A straight girl! She kissed a woman! 

She groans and falls onto her bed. She can’t get it out of her head. The unfamiliar feeling of want she had radiating through her body as her hands warmed on Lan Zhan’s thigh, as her head rested on her shoulder – enveloped in her woody perfume, as she told herself it was time to leave. And then, the feeling of their lips together. Lan Zhan’s mouth should be illegal, Wei Ying decides. Whose mouth is that hot? Whose tongue just knows how to do that ? Wei Ying turns over onto her belly and buries her scream in her pillow. 

After eight insufferable days, Wei Ying knows she has to stop having her week-long panic attack and go back to work. She’s got bills to pay, and anyways, she has decided that it’s not a big deal . Kissing your co-worker? Sooo not a big deal! So regular, in fact. 

She just needs to pretend like nothing happened. Lan Zhan’s probably already forgotten all about it. She totally gives off a heartbreaker that doesn’t even remember the names of all of her hookups kind of lesbian vibe. That’s a vibe that some lesbians have, right?

“Yeah, this will be fine,” Wei Ying says outloud for what has to be the fifth time in the shower as she shaves her legs. 

She packs her bag and then she has nothing left to do but to leave for the club. She sits on her couch and tries to reason with herself that maybe she doesn’t NEED to go to work tonight. Maybe she should stay home and read that article her brother sent her a month ago. Her bathroom needs cleaning, maybe she should just stay home. She bounces her knees, scrolls absently on her phone for another fifteen minutes. She debates a complete mental breakdown. She stalls until she’s pushing it, until she might be late. Then she scrabbles out the door and has to run with absolutely no dignity to catch the bus.

She makes it before the day-shift cut off, but just barely. She quickly puts her things away in her locker, grabbing her makeup and hair stuff and finding a spot along the makeup mirrors. The whole time she’s getting ready she’s in a haze, can’t focus on her surroundings, barely registering when other dancers talk to her. It’s Thursday and she knows Lan Zhan is probably working. She tries not to read into the effort she puts into her look, but she does do a full face. Her signature smoky eye, thick winged cat-like eyeliner, a smudging of red just under her bottom lashes and a deep red on her lips. She wears her lucky lace black teddy paired with a silk red ribbon to hold the top part of her hair in a flirty little high half pony-tail. She uses her fingers and pulls some wispies out to frame her face. She looks good. It does nothing to help her sweaty palms or the nerves in her stomach. 

Be normal she thinks as she hugs her second garter up under her ass and checks that both of her pleaser boots are laced up tight. She walks down the stairs and onto the floor, instinctually looking over at the bar and immediately makes eye contact with Lan Zhan. 

Great. 

They stare at each other for a moment, Lan Zhan’s gaze sweeping up her entire body, making Wei Ying feel all kinds of something. She lowers her gaze and goes back to the drink she’s making. Wei Ying looks away, shaking her head and trying to focus. She’s at work, where she works, to work, not have a crisis. 

She takes in what’s happening on the floor and to her dismay there are no customers without dancers already with them. She could sit and wait at an empty table. She could! But she has literally never not sat at the bar when Lan Zhan was working, and so it would be weird if she went and sat somewhere else, and she is determinedly NOT going to make this weird. She closes her eyes and promises herself that she will be the most normal girl that has ever been a normal girl, and skips up to the bar. 

“Hiiiii!” she says in a voice that is way too high. She hops onto a stool way too uppity and almost topples off of it.

Lan Zhan blinks at her. 

“Shea,” she says, with no inflection. God her voice is so low , it’s like melted butter in Wei Ying’s ears. Wei Ying tries really hard not to look at Lan Zhan’s arms, but they’re like. Right there. Her muscles are somewhere between toned and absolutely ripped – all lean lines with an undertone of: could 100% throw you around. 

Lan Zhan doesn’t say anything more, just turns around and starts fussing with the beer fridge, turning all the labels so that they face out. 

That’s it? That’s the only reaction? She’s just all steady and unaffected? Wei Ying tries really hard not to feel annoyed. She knew that Lan Zhan wasn’t going to like. Swoon over her or whatever. That’s not even what she wants! Why would she want Lan Zhan to feel a way about her? Wei Ying’s not interested in… That.

…Okay. Fine. Wei Ying has resigned herself to the fact that Lan Zhan might have triggered some mid-twenties queer awakening in her. But like, that’s not Lan Zhan’s responsibility, and Wei Ying isn’t even sure what it means! It’s maybe not even about Lan Zhan at all. Maybe she’s just not as straight as she thought she was. MAYBE. 

Regardless of whatever is happening in Wei Ying’s own personal Wei Ying mind, Wei Ying knows that she is like, a hottie. Was the kiss… Bad? Wei Ying had not thought that the kiss was bad. Not bad at all . That kiss had frankly knocked her pleasers off. That kiss may or may not have been followed by Wei Ying sitting down in her post-work shower, turning her detachable shower head to its most aggressive setting and getting off in record time. 

She’s not sure what reaction she was hoping to get. She has been telling herself that this is what she wanted… But now that she’s here and Lan Zhan is acting like nothing has changed between them, she kind of wants to throw a temper-tantrum.

“Drink?” Lan Zhan asks, without looking at her. Oh, it’s making Wei Ying’s blood boil to not have Lan Zhan’s attention on her. 

“Vodka redbull,” Wei Ying says, a little sharp. 

Lan Zhan falters. Good . She turns to look at Wei Ying, giving her raised eyebrows in question. 

“What?” Wei Ying asks, petulant. “I can be surprising… If I want.” God what is she even saying? She doubles down anyway. “Can’t I?” she adds, leaning over the bar on her elbows, knowing that she’s pushing her tits together. She grins when Lan Zhan’s eyes flash down to look at them. The moment is charged, neither one of them breaking the tension until Lan Zhan looks away and clears her throat. She puts the bottle of crown back down and picks up the Tito’s. 

“You certainly can,” she says in an unreadable tone. 

She doesn’t look back at Wei Ying the rest of the time that she’s making her drink and Wei Ying finds that despite her best effort she doesn’t have a witty remark witty enough to say. Lan Zhan places the drink in front of her, punches her stage name into the computer and just when Wei Ying thinks she’s going to turn away from her again, she puts both hands on the bar – arms spread out in front of Wei Ying, upper body leaning towards her. When she looks up, Lan Zhan is looking at her like she’s trying to work out a word riddle. 

“What?” Wei Ying asks nervously, shifting in her seat. 

“Are you alright?” There’s genuine concern in her voice, her eyes are searching and it makes her expression a little soft. “Last time we –” 

And Wei Ying really can’t bear to hear Lan Zhan’s ‘letting her down easy speech.’ 

“I’m fine! Great! We don’t need to talk about it! It was no big deal. I was drunk, so it doesn’t even really count.” Yikes. Her tongue feels like it’s moving too fast in her mouth, like her being really cool about this whole thing is not coming across as she’d hoped. “Like – I'm sorry if it was weird. I don’t even know what I was thinking! Must have just been feeling really lonely I guess haha wow ok embarrassing. Anyway, I’m sorry if like. If I took you too much by surprise. You had great – um, nevermind. Thank you for the drink. I'm just gonna!” And then Wei Ying all but launches herself off the bar stool and beelines it for the bathroom.

Fuck fuck fuck . 

She slams the stall door closed and paces the one half step back and forth between the toilet and the door, which means she’s really just turning in a circle like an idiot, trying to undo the last 5 minutes in her head. 

She sucks aggressively on the straw of her drink, downing half of it in one go and then coughing on the harsh combination of bubbles and liquor. She tells herself as confidently as she can manage that she can do this , even nodding her head in consternation at the stall door. Then she feels ridiculous for doing that and rolls her eyes, also at the stall door. 

She downs the rest of the drink for good measure and walks out of the bathroom. She leaves her empty glass on the other end of the bar where another bartender is and then tries to focus. She walks up to the first guy she sees. He works in tech and Wei Ying knows how to pretend to care about that. She does not look at Lan Zhan.

She gives a few floor dances. She stays on the other side of the bar. She talks about how she knows nothing about the stock market and wow can you please explain it. She nods her head enthusiastically about Boston because some guy is from there and is for some reason convinced it’s the best city in America. She looks at pictures of houses, girlfriends, cars, daughters, dogs. She laughs and touches mens arm’s at the right time. She lets them touch her ass and she plucks ones from their fingers. They buy her drinks. When she gets called to stage she makes Jared - the guy she’s talking to - promise promise promise to watch her on stage. 

She takes a sip and puts her drink and lip gloss in the corner of the stage. She wipes down the pole, cracks her neck, and feels her body relax. She knows how to do this. 

She lets her body work the stage, doing a few tricks on the pole to attract attention. She finds the ground and flips her hair. She rolls her body and shakes her ass and winks at the men who have started throwing money. When a group comes up and starts showering her with bills, she twerks right off the side of the stage. It feels good. 

It’s not until the middle of the second song, the top of her teddy rolled down and her thong and garters laden with ones that she flips her head toward the bar. She almost trips – has to catch her breath at the unbridled way Lan Zhan is looking at her. Her eyes are huge and concentrated, like she’s trying to memorize every movement of Wei Ying’s body. She’s suddenly never felt more nervous on the stage, except maybe her first night dancing. Lan Zhan is looking at her like she could sit cross legged on the stage and do nothing but look back at her and she would still be watching her with the same hunger in her eyes. She feels like she could melt under Lan Zhan’s gaze – melt or cry or come or all three at the same time. 

She forces her head to the other side of the stage before she does something stupid, like launch herself off the stage and into Lan Zhan’s big muscular arms. She throws her body upside down to distract herself – spins and buys herself some time as she tries to remember how to breathe. She stomps down on the ground with muscle memory and she can feel Lan Zhan staring at her. It lights something in her belly. 

She drops her body to the ground into the splits, twerking. She rolls onto her back, holding her leg flush to the side of her face, still in the splits. She does frankly one of the hottest floor routines she thinks she’s ever done in her whole life – she gives it her all in a way she rarely does. Sweating bullets, she is over two hundred dollars richer when she gets off the stage.

There are guys head nodding and waving at her all over the club, dancers smiling in awe at her. She thanks the manager for sweeping the dollars into a bucket as she ties her top back up. She fervently ignores the bar to go to the cage to exchange all the ones. She feels hot all over. Not just from the dancing, but because she knows that she was dancing like that for Lan Zhan . For her to look at her. For her to want her. 

She gets flagged down easily the moment she’s back on the floor, and it’s less than five minutes of flirting for her to get a private room in VIP. It’s the most excruciating hour of her life – her heart is not in the game at all and the guy can totally tell. Wei Ying can’t bring herself to care. She just keeps hoping that Lan Zhan hasn’t left by the time she gets out. She ignores the implication of this hope – has no idea what she wants to happen when she sees her.

When she walks down the stairs from VIP, she gives the guy a half-hearted hug and instantly turns towards the bar. Lan Zhan isn’t there. 

Of course she’s not. She doesn't work doubles on Thursdays and it’s past midnight by now. Her heart sinks. She knows that she should stay – the club is full and there were other people that threw for her on stage that she should try and talk to. 

She finds herself walking to the cage to sign out anyway. She tips out the DJ and goes upstairs miserably to get ready to go home and sulk for the rest of the night and then feel bad for leaving prematurely tomorrow. She tells herself she is going to spend the next three days getting her head on straight and stop thinking about Lan Zhan and all these crazy fantasies where Lan Zhan kisses her again, kisses her and –

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying squeaks as she turns down her column of lockers. 

Lan Zhan is sitting on the little wooden bench in front of her locker. She stands up when she sees Wei Ying, looks like she debates taking a step forward and then decides against it. 

“Shea –” She starts and then her eyes flick to the receipt in Wei Ying’s hands. “ – You’re leaving?” She asks. 

Wei Ying looks down at the check out ticket and feels like she’s been caught out at something. Which is ridiculous. She can leave whenever she wants! And yet, and yet! She can tell she’s blushing. As if she can help it! With the way Lan Zhan’s looking at her with the same molten expression as when she was watching her on stage – like she could eat her alive. Like she can somehow tell that Wei Ying wants her to. 

“I –” Wei Ying starts. 

“Can I speak with you?” Lan Zhan says at the same time, her words coming out faster than they normally do. The contrast makes Wei Ying realize how measured her pace normally is when speaking, how carefully curated her cadence is.

“Um…. You are...” Wei Ying says, “Speaking with me. That is,” she adds, stupidly.

Lan Zhan huffs a little laugh and it makes Wei Ying smile despite herself. Some of the tension between them melts at the edges. 

“Showers?” Wei Ying says, with immense bravery. 

The showers at Heavenly Maiden haven’t worked in years, but it’s one of the only places without cameras. It’s become an unmonitored sanctuary of sorts where dancers go to do bumps or hit their vapes, but it should also function as a place for a private conversation so long as no one is in there already. Lan Zhan gives her a mildly puzzled look but follows when Wei Ying turns in her pleasers and clomps back down the aisle. If Wei Ying sways her hips to make her ass shake a little, that’s her business.

There’s a little room that’s mostly used for storage, and then a long curtain that leads to the big communal showers with shower heads lining the walls. Wei Ying pulls back the curtain and steps in. She takes a moment to collect herself, staring at the ugly beige tiles and focusing on the thump thump of the bass from the music downstairs before turning to face Lan Zhan. They’re basically at eye level – Wei Ying is taller with an extra seven inches, but just barely. 

Wei Ying reminds herself to keep it together. She just needs to let Lan Zhan know that they are cool, they are friends, it’s all good! And then she can go home and have a mid-twenties oh-god-maybe-i’m-a-little-gay moment by herself – the way god intended. 

“Sooooo,” Wei Ying says awkwardly, swinging her arms back and forth. She’s acutely aware of how she is in a lace thonged teddy and Lan Zhan is fully dressed in her straight black work pants, and a t-shirt that’s hugging those biceps – the only real part of her on display are the long lines of her arms. Wei Ying fights heroically against finding the dynamic hot.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says and Wei Ying snaps her head up from where she was practically ogling Lan Zhan’s arms. For gods sake. 

Lan Zhan steps closer. Her face is so… Perfect. Startlingly so. High cheekbones underneath soft skin. She’s taken her hair out of its little top pony so it’s falling shaggy in front of her eyes and below her ears, accentuating her already dramatic jawline. She’s beautiful in a way Wei Ying didn’t know girls could be. Sauve. Clean-cut. Chiseled . Her mouth is dark and full, her lips seem to take up half of her face, and when she quickly licks her tongue over them Wei Ying has to fight to keep her brain online. That mouth has been on Wei Ying’s mouth, that mouth has made her more turned on than any other kiss in her life .  

“Wei Ying, I –” 

“I think you should kiss me again,” she blurts out, and then slaps a hand over her mouth in sheer horror. Her eyes bug out and she kind of hopes they pop out of her head and then the rest of her explodes.

Lan Zhan blinks at her, like she’s taking a moment to decide if Wei Ying actually just said that or if there was a glitch in the space time continuum. Wei Ying wonders if she could gaslight her into believing the latter. 

“Um. I didn’t mean that,” Wei Ying tries, face on fire. 

Lan Zhan stares at her, and then tilts her head a bit to the side, assessing. It makes her hair fall to the side in an excruciatingly cute way. 

“You… Didn’t mean… That,” Lan Zhan says slowly, some inscrutable emotion flickering briefly over her expression that makes Wei Ying’s stomach flutter, and then her face goes painfully neutral again. Wei Ying can’t tell if she’s actually trying to parse something out or if she’s making fun of her a little. 

“Um… No?” Wei Ying tries.

More silence. Wei Ying stares at her feet and tries not to scream into the tautness of it. Her palms are sweating. When she eventually dares to look up, Lan Zhan’s face falls slightly.

“You’re straight,” Lan Zan says, like she’s admitting to something. 

“Yes,” Wei Ying says quickly and then bites her lip and resigns herself to this horribly embarrassing conversation. “Well. Okay. Maybe not as straight as I, uh, previously thought.” 

Lan Zhan snaps her head up and suddenly there’s a new, lethal light in her face. She has an eyebrow cocked and of course she’s one of those people who can raise just one eyebrow. Wei Ying resists squirming. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says slowly, her tone almost wicked. Something has completely shifted in her demeanor without her doing anything of consequence. Wei Ying can’t pinpoint exactly what’s changed, just that suddenly, Wei Ying feels like a prey animal. 

“Wei Ying,” she says again, like a wind up. “What has our little kiss done to you?”

Wei Ying’s brain short circuits. “That was… That was LITTLE?!” 

And that makes Lan Zhan smirk. Smirk! 

“Yes,” she says, infuriatingly easy.  

“Pfff. Pfff. Okay! Whatever! That’s fine!” Wei Ying sputters. 

Lan Zhan steps closer and Wei Ying gulps. She watches Wei Ying’s throat work to not choke on itself, and the look she gives Wei Ying makes Wei Ying want to fucking whimper.

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply and Wei Ying can’t bear the silence for one more moment. 

“What… Uh… What would you do? Hypothetically! To um. Make it… Not… little.” She licks her lips nervously, tries to keep her breath steady as her heart hammers violently in her chest. 

Lan Zhan’s pupils dilate right there in front of her and that’s the only warning she gets before Lan Zhan hooks a hand around the back of Wei Ying’s head and yanks her forward by her neck – her whole body crashing into Lan Zhan’s front.

Miraculously, their mouths find each other. 

It’s uncoordinated at first, which somehow makes it hotter – how their lips and teeth and tongues seem to fight to get at each other. But then Lan Zhan gets her tongue fully into Wei Ying’s mouth and Wei Ying actually does whimper and – oh god – the embarrassment sends a shockwave through her. Wei Ying is pretty sure she can feel Lan Zhan’s tongue in her throat, hot and wet and insistent. Her free hand comes up to grab a handful of Wei Ying’s hair, and in contrast to the feral attack from her mouth, Lan Zhan’s hand is more steadying, like she’s soothing a spooked animal. 

And then Wei Ying is being pushed back, crowded up against the wall. The cold shower tiles press against her back and send goose bumps all over her skin. The hand that was in her hair finds her waist – long fingers pressing white hot through the lace. The sensation is so stimulating it almost tickles, is almost too much. One hand on her waist and she’s already light headed.  

Lan Zhan gets her thigh between Wei Ying’s legs, pushing her up even further against the wall, and Wei Ying instinctually spreads her legs further to make room for her. She’s dazed and doesn’t understand what Lan Zhan is doing – is too overwhelmed to ask. Lan Zhan puts both hands on her hips, her thumbs digging in at the bone. Then Wei Ying’s body is being pushed down onto Lan Zhan’s thigh. She feels like she’s under a spell, her body going where it’s told without question. The hands on her hips grip her tight and she gasps as Lan Zhan moves her body how she wants it, deftly using her hands to roll Wei Ying’s hips down so that she’s riding Lan Zhan’s thigh.

Wei Ying’s mouth goes slack and she has to break the kiss to drop her head back against the wall. The sudden concentration of pressure against her is overwhelming and she has to gasp for air. Having broken the kiss, Lan Zhan nips at her jaw, making Wei Ying twitch her hips in surprise and grind herself harder onto Lan Zhan’s thigh. 

Lan Zhan urgently kisses the line of Wei Ying’s jaw and then latches her mouth onto her throat, tongue and teeth working together as a hand returns to the back of Wei Ying’s neck and pulls her closer, making her back arch. The downward motion of her hips and Lan Zhan’s other hand still guiding her rubs Wei Ying’s clit directly onto Lan Zhan’s clothed thigh. Startling pleasure explodes out of her, her mouth falling open. The rough fabric of Lan Zhan’s pants and the lace of her thong rubbing her borders on pain, and Wei Ying dizzily imagines no layers between them, just Wei Ying sliding over Lan Zhan’s bare skin, the smooth pressure directly on her clit, Lan Zhan’s thigh wet and sticky with her. 

She feels dizzy with it. Not in her dirtiest fantasies has she ever pictured herself shamelessly getting off riding someone’s fucking leg, and she feels even more wetness leak out of her at the thought. She has never had such overwhelming images flood her while kissing someone – doesn’t think she’s ever wanted so much from just kissing. Drunk with desire, she gives in and starts moving her hips, following Lan Zhan’s guiding hand and working herself on Lan Zhan’s thigh. She mewls pathetically as she is repeatedly met with the rough fabrics, the pain adding an edge of something and Wei Ying can’t tell if she wants it to stop, or wants more. 

She desperately grabs onto Lan Zhan’s biceps, fingers digging into the muscle. Her hands don’t even make it halfway around them, god . Lan Zhan is rock solid beneath her finger tips, and the muscles ripple as her arms shift. Wei Ying lets out a gasp, her lower belly swooping, the tingle of more wetness between her legs making her slip slightly down Lan Zhan’s thigh. She is mortifyingly turned on about it.

Lan Zhan releases Wei Ying’s neck from what Wei Ying is sure will be a very obvious hickey tomorrow. If she had been in a right state of mind she would’ve pushed Lan Zhan off – hickeys make getting ready for work extremely annoying. But the tingling ache from Lan Zhan’s sucking, the ghost of her mouth on Wei Ying’s skin, knowing that there will be a mark on her body – a reminder of what Lan Zhan is doing to her, it awakens something carnal, and she wants to demand that Lan Zhan to mark her up everywhere. Let every person who pays to see her know who Wei Ying’s body really belongs to.

Their mouths meet again and they’re kissing like it’s the only thing that’s keeping them alive. Wei Ying is breathless, head spinning, as their tongues roll over one other. Lan Zhan’s hands run down Wei Ying’s sides and she tries not to moan. Both of Lan Zhan’s hands land on her bare ass and squeeze. Lan Zhan makes a noise into her mouth and then the hands on her ass are gripping, hard. Wei Ying shudders as all of a sudden Lan Zhan lifts her entire body up by her ass. Her back is pressed flush against the wall and her legs flail for a moment as Lan Zhan steps her other leg between Wei Ying’s now open thighs. Wei Ying fumbles to wrap her arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and then gets her legs around her hips. 

Her pleasers clack together, pressing into Lan Zhan’s back and Lan Zhan moans. She moans into Wei Ying’s mouth and it’s the hottest noise Wei Ying has ever heard. 

Lan Zhan doesn’t seem at all phased by holding Wei Ying’s weight in her arms and Wei Ying’s stomach butterflies. She’s so strong . She brings her hands around to hold Lan Zhan’s face, feeling the way her strong jaw works as she kisses Wei Ying. Kisses her and kisses her. They kiss until Wei Ying is out of breath. When Lan Zhan pulls off, her eyes are all pupils and her mouth is dark and kiss bitten.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says her name in absolute awe, her voice low and sultry. Wei Ying moans and drops her head to Lan Zhan’s shoulder. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes into her neck, and Lan Zhan runs her hands tenderly up and down her side, making her shiver. 

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?” Lan Zhan whispers into her ear, hot breath raising goose bumps all up her neck. Wei Ying gulps. 

“Um you are,” Wei Ying whispers, “touching me, that is.” 

She smiles into Lan Zhan’s neck. Lan Zhan huffs out a laugh and pinches Wei Ying’s side, making her yelp. 

“Brat,” Lan Zhan says, lips brushing Wei Ying’s ear. 

She lets Wei Ying down, her pleasers clacking to the ground and echoing throughout the showers. Her back is still flush against the wall, warmed from her body heat. Lan Zhan looks her in the eyes with such unrestrained desire that Wei Ying feels another wave of heat pool in her belly, her pussy is so wet now that she worries it’s going to start fucking dripping down her legs. Something must show on her face because Lan Zhan smirks at her. She goes back to licking and nipping all over Wei Ying’s neck and collar bone – like a fucking dog – and Wei Ying bites her lip to keep from moaning. Lan Zhan’s finger pads brush her shoulders, glide over her breasts, making her nipples perked up and sensitive. 

Lan Zhan’s hands seem to be everywhere – on her stomach, her waist, all over her ass. Wei Ying does nothing but let her, holding onto her shoulders as her body gets worked over by a hot bitey mouth and unrelenting hands. Her pussy throbs, clenching around nothing, and it’s making her desperate and sweaty – making her want to whine with need. She feels like she’s about to start begging Lan Zhan to do something when finally two fingers press up between her legs through her teddy. 

“Fuck!” Wei Ying almost keels over with how intense it feels. She’s so wet that Lan Zhan’s fingers slip into her folds embarrassingly easily. 

“Oh honey,” Lan Zhan says, sounding infuriatingly self-satisfied. “Oh honey, you really need it, don’t you?” 

Wei Ying’s face flames with shame. Lan Zhan moves her fingers up through her slick, finding and circling her clit with such efficient accuracy that Wei Ying almost chokes on her own tongue. 

“Shh, shh. I know. It’s okay,” Lan Zhan soothes, clearly incredibly pleased with herself. “I know what you need.” Her voice is so low and sexy and the salacious things she’s saying are making Wei Ying physically weak at the knees. 

“How can you –” Wei Ying starts and damn she is really out of breath. “How can you just – talk… Like that? Ahhh ahh.”

The only thing keeping her upright is Lan Zhan’s body pinning her to the wall and her mouth falls open as Lan Zhan roughly pushes two fingers with the lacy fabric into her, the slide easy with how wet she is. Her whole body zings with it, her pussy clenching down on the intrusion, trying to suck it further into her. 

“So sensitive,” Lan Zhan notes, sounding completely unaffected. Wei Ying is on the verge of implosion and Lan Zhan is acting like she’s mildly amused at best. It’s infuriating. 

“Do you always get this wet?” She asks, lazily moving her fingers through all of Wei Ying’s wetness – playing with her. Wei Ying tries to answer, but her mouth just stays open, gulping for air pathetically, her body twitching with every stroke of Lan Zhan’s fingers. 

Lan Zhan nips Wei Ying’s ear and whispers, “I doubt it. All this for me, right?”

Wei Ying tries to huff, but it comes out more desperately horny than anything resembling banter. She grabs Lan Zhan’s wrist, gathering all the strength and dignity she can. Lan Zhan stills her fingers and Wei Ying almost regrets her actions.  

“Are you always this cocky?” Wei Ying asks. It comes out a bit more *strangled and worked up* than she would’ve liked, but at least it’s actual words that she’s pretty sure are grammatically correct. She feels Lan Zhan smile into her neck and Wei Ying almost melts. She’s never seen Lan Zhan smile, not as big as it feels like she is now, pressed into her skin. She pulls away to look Wei Ying in the eyes. 

“Not always,” Lan Zhan says lazily, lifting the hand Wei Ying still has in a death grip between their faces, her fingers are wet and shiny. “Just when it’s this easy.” 

Wei Ying is mortified, both at how Lan Zhan is talking and the fact that it sends another gush of wetness into her throbbing pussy.

Before she can answer, Lan Zhan brings her hand to her mouth and licks her tongue between the V of her fingers. Wei Ying stands there in horny shock at Lan Zhan’s shamelessness as she licks the fingers that are covered with Wei Ying’s slick. 

“You taste good,” She says, pressing her lips to her two fingers. She inhales. “Smell good too.” 

“Oh my god.” Wei Ying has to close her eyes, she cannot believe what’s happening to her right now. 

She learns quickly that closing her eyes was a mistake, as she feels fingers pressed to her mouth, the smell of herself flooding her nose. Her eyes fly open. Lan Zhan is staring dangerously at her with her mouth a little open, head cocked a little to the side, floppy hair falling to the side endearingly. 

Wei Ying gets lost in her. 

“Open,” Lan Zhan tells her, slowly, and Wei Ying obeys in a daze. She closes her mouth around the fingers, they’re slippery and taste sweet, a little musky. It feels so dirty to have fingers in her mouth that were just in her pussy, and she finds herself swallowing and sucking harder, lathing her tongue all around the long fingers. If Lan Zhan pushed, she could probably get the tips of her fingers to touch the back of her throat. Wei Ying’s eyelid’s flutter.

She’s always had an oral fixation – constantly chewing her shirt collars, sweatshirt strings, her own lips, but it is a little ridiculous how good it feels to have something in her mouth right now. She closes her eyes and grounds herself sucking on Lan Zhan’s incredibly long fingers. 

She hears Lan Zhan let out a little laugh. “You think you taste good too.” 

Wei Ying whimpers in embarrassment but doesn’t release the fingers. She opens her eyes to Lan Zhan looking back at her with unrestrained hunger. Wei Ying makes a needy noise in her throat against her will. 

“Okay baby you can have those,” Lan Zhan says with amusement. Wei Ying flushes, fights the urge to let out a relieved moan. 

Lan Zhan’s other hand pets Wei Ying’s hair gently, definitely a little condescendingly. Wei Ying has succumbed to finding it hot – the power Lan Zhan has over her. Fingers tickle the back of Wei Ying’s neck and before she realizes what’s happening the knot of her teddy is yanked out, falling down her front and exposing both of her tits. Taken by surprise, she pops off Lan Zhan’s fingers. Lan Zhan does not look the least bit sorry. She’s not looking at Wei Ying’s face at all, staring fiercely at her tits. 

“It’s not like you haven’t seen them before,” Wei Ying tries to tease. 

Lan Zhan gives her a wry look and then takes the wet fingers that were just in Wei Ying’s mouth and rubs a circle around her nipple. 

Wei Ying gasps. “Oh my god – what the fuck. What the fuck is that!” 

Lan Zhan once again, smirks. “You really have had quite inadequate sex, haven’t you?” 

She continues to play with Wei Ying’s nipple, rubbing wet circles around it, making Wei Ying shiver. 

“I –” 

Lan Zhan pinches her nipple, pulls it roughly, and all of the air leaves Wei Ying’s lungs. 

“That was rhetorical,” Lan Zhan tells her, like a fucking bitch. She squeezes her nipple between her fingers and ducks down to take the other into her hot mouth, sending lightening bolts of pleasure from Wei Ying’s nipple straight to her pussy. An embarrassing noise escapes her – it echoes throughout the showers and makes Lan Zhan pull off.  

“Someone will hear you,” Lan Zhan says flatly. “Do you want that?” She adds, like a demon. 

“No!” Wei Ying says, too loud. “No!” She repeats, in a whisper.  

“Then behave yourself,” Lan Zhan admonishes, like she’s talking to a child. It makes Wei Ying want to stomp her foot, like a child. 

“Behave, she says!” Wei Ying huffs. “Behave while I do insanely crazy things to your body!” 

“Insanely crazy is redundant,” Lan Zhan says back, doing a shit job of hiding the glee in her tone, and Wei Ying thinks she might lose her mind. 

Lan Zhan’s fingers find the heat between her legs again, landing lightly on the fabric of her teddy. She runs her fingers up and down the fabric with no pressure at all, just a light brush, a tickle. An infuriating tease. 

“Right here in the showers?” Wei Ying breathes shakily, trying to coax Lan Zhan into actually fucking touching her. A frustrated groan falls from her lips when Lan Zhan’s blunt nail ghosts over her clit. 

“I don’t think you can wait,” Lan Zhan says, infuriatingly confident. 

In an instant she pulls Wei Ying’s underwear to the side and then finally there’s nothing between them. Long fingers run through her wetness and Wei Ying doesn’t think anything has ever felt so good. Lan Zhan circles her bare clit with her slick fingers and Wei Ying has to lean forward to suck on the exposed skin of Lan Zhan’s collar to keep from screaming. 

“There you go,” Lan Zhan coos at her, two fingers and thumb working methodically over her clit. Her whole body is on fire, hands holding onto Lan Zhan’s broad shoulders for dear life. Her eyes squeeze shut and she focuses on sucking the sweet smooth skin into her mouth and not making too much noise as Lan Zhan’s deft fingers take her apart.

“Wei Ying, look at me. I want to see you,” Lan Zhan says once Wei Ying is writhing on her fingers and has started making pathetic little noises into Lan Zhan’s skin. Wei Ying reluctantly releases her mouth and looks up with unfocused eyes. She can feel the sweat all over her forehead and throat, running down her back. She’s hot everywhere, knows she must be completely flushed. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying can’t take it, she surges forward to catch Lan Zhan’s mouth in a desperate kiss. Lan Zhan’s lips and tongue take over quickly, fucking into Wei Ying’s mouth and moving in sync with the way her fingers are massaging her clit.

“God, your mouth,” Wei Ying breathes against her, and then she feels it again – a smile into Wei Ying’s skin. 

Lan Zhan breaks away abruptly and drops to her knees, switching to just the pressure of her thumb on Wei Ying’s clit. 

“Lan Zhan! What are you –” She’s cut off by two long fingers sliding all the way into her cunt. Overwhelmed, she all but keels over. She catches herself on the tops of Lan Zhan’s shoulders, and feels the hard muscles move under her hands. 

“You’re pretty here too,” Lan Zhan says matter of factly, and pumps her fingers in and out slowly, curling her fingers and making Wei Ying’s eyes want to roll back. 

Self conscious with the angle Lan Zhan’s at and the lewd wet sounds filling the room, Wei Ying squirms. She’s reprimanded with a sharp bite to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, making her jerk violently. Lan Zhan’s hand comes down to hold her foot firmly in place, while the hand with two fingers deep inside her pulls out, thumb quickly gathering slick and returning to her swollen clit while the rest of her fingers fan out to hold her lower belly up against the wall. 

Wei Ying looks down, gathering the air required to scold Lan Zhan for biting her, but Lan Zhan ducks her head and licks a stripe up her pussy and it’s all Wei Ying can do to stay up on two legs. Lan Zhan’s thumb is quickly replaced by her mouth and Wei Ying loses all her words. Lan Zhan sucks her clit between her plush lips, holding it suctioned in her mouth as her tongue rolls over it. She tries to stay quiet as Lan Zhan’s mouth and tongue continue to move hot and confident over her, sucking and flicking and doing things Wei Ying has never felt done to her before, driving her out of her mind. 

Lan Zhan’s fingers run up and down her foot and grab the arch of the pleaser like an anchor. She moans low onto Wei Ying’s clit. 

“You – ah – you like me in my – oh my god – my pleasers, huh?” Wei Ying strains to say. 

Lan Zhan doesn’t respond, just flicks her burning eyes up to look at her, mouth still attached to her pussy. The sight makes Wei Ying’s whole body shudder. 

She gets hotter, her legs begging to shake, it’s the best head she’s ever gotten. She thinks it’s probably the best head anyone has ever gotten. Lan Zhan brings two fingers back to her, fucks up into her with one smooth motion. Wei Ying clenches down onto them. It feels so fucking good, her body reaching new heights with the combined effort of Lan Zhan’s mouth and fingers. The two work in tandem – hot mouth sucking, tongue swirling, fingers fucking up, curling back. Wei Ying rolls her hips involuntarily, chasing more, and Lan Zhan makes a pleased noise against her, sending vibrations through her. 

Sweating, out of her mind, hands splayed out against the cool wall behind her so she can shamelessly push her hips up and give Lan Zhan better access, she feels familiar heat start to build in her belly and her legs really do start to shake. 

Lan Zhan’s tongue moves rhythmically on the underside of her clit, her fingers start to speed up, fucking her as deep as she can, the rest of Lan Zhan’s knuckles slapping against her pussy with every thrust. Wei Ying feels played like an instrument, her entire body trembling. She wants to grind down, to fuck her hips up and down, she’s chasing her orgasm as if it wasn’t building in her at a sprint.

“Oh my god. Lan Zhan. Oh my –” 

She’s so desperate for it, panting and moaning against her will. The white hot pleasure builds to an impossible height. It’s happening so fast she feels like she can’t keep up. She wants to scream, wants to fuck herself down onto Lan Zhan’s fingers until she’s got her entire fist inside her.

“Mhm,” Lan Zhan encourages against her throbbing clit.  

Wei Yings gasps as the pleasure crests, explodes through her entire body. She gyrates down onto Lan Zhan’s fingers as they fuck up deep into her. Her pussy pulses and clenches down onto them, her whole body writhing. 

It seems to go on forever, wave after wave of wet hot pleasure, Lan Zhan’s tongue hard and fast over her clit, fingers deep, petting her insides, pulling and stretching her orgasm out. 

Wei Ying’s legs start to jerk in overstimulation, her open mouth making involuntarily little “ah ah ah” noises until Lan Zhan’s tongue goes from hard to soft, her soft lips and tongue sucking gently on her swollen clit. 

Slowly, Lan Zhan pulls her fingers out from her pussy and Wei Ying feels the rush of her come go with it, dripping down her thighs. Wet fingers find her other foot, and Wei Ying feels Lan Zhan fuck her tongue into the heat of her, tasting her come, and another wave rolls impossibly through her. Still, Lan Zhan’s mouth does not relent. She just goes back to kissing and gently tonguing Wei Ying’s clit. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying gasps, her hips bucking when Lan Zhan flattens her tongue. “Lan Zhan! You’re gonna kill me.” 

Eventually she is released, one final kiss to her pussy that makes her blush, and then Lan Zhan carefully moves her underwear back, an oddly tender gesture, and stands up. Her face is flushed, her mouth swollen, her chin wet, and STILL she gives Wei Ying the smuggest of all grins. 

“You’re insatiable,” Wei Ying says, smiling. 

She feels high, loose and happy through every inch of her body, the tips of her fingers pleasantly tingling. She closes her eyes and tries to catch her breath. Lips find hers almost instantly, velvety and warm. Lan Zhan kisses her languidly – their tongues moving slowly and lusciously. Wei Ying tastes herself on Lan Zhan’s tongue and moans into her mouth. Apparently Lan Zhan making her taste her own pussy is going to be a Thing for her. 

She floats through the high of her orgasm with Lan Zhan’s tongue in her mouth, Lan Zhan’s hands cupping her face. 

“I do like your pleasers,” Lan Zhan says when they finally break apart for air. 

“Hmm?” Wei Ying says, eyes closed, still come-drunk. 

Lan Zhan whispers in her ear, “I’d like to fuck you while you’re wearing nothing but your pleasers, legs thrown over my shoulders so I can hold onto them while I fuck you with my cock.”

Wei Ying’s eyes fly open. “With your what?!” She squeaks. 

Lan Zhan laughs, small, and gives her a quick kiss to her slack mouth. “You will see.”

The image of Lan Zhan naked, fucking her… Wei Ying’s pussy clenches involuntarily. 

“Wait,” Wei Ying says suddenly, leaning back to look at Lan Zhan. “You’re still completely dressed,” she adds, like she’s just noticed. 

“Yes,” Lan Zhan replies, carefully. 

Wei Ying bites her lip nervously. She’s way out of her depths with this. She has no idea how to do… well, really anything that Lan Zhan just did to her. 

“I want..” She says shyly, fingers hooking onto Lan Zhan’s belt and pulling. “I want to try.”

Lan Zhan’s expression softens, then darkens. She kisses Wei Ying on the cheek. “Alright,” she says. 

Wei Ying gives a determined little nod and immediately gets to work on Lan Zhan’s belt. Her shaky fingers struggle clumsily until Lan Zhan’s big warm hands cover hers, stilling her. 

“Not now,” Lan Zhan says softly. Her soft voice makes Wei Ying feel like a child, it’s both horrible and wonderful. “Someone might see.”

Wei Ying’s head whips up. “Someone might’ve seen me!” she protests. 

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says, sans any hint of apology. 

Wei Ying hits Lan Zhan’s arm, tries to appear affronted, in direct opposition to the fond and horny feeling at the look Lan Zhan is giving her. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says her name like a question – a new level of seriousness entering her tone. She sounds almost shy. 

She brings a hand back up to Wei Ying’s face, fingers kissing her skin. They look at each other and Wei Ying sees something untouchably fond in Lan Zhan’s eyes, something soft but determined in her face. Wei Ying never wants to stop looking at her. 

“Lan Zhan I…” The words get caught in her throat. “I think I might be… a little gay.” 

Lan Zhan’s lips twitch, something uncharacteristically playful in her eyes. “I would have to agree,” she says. 

Wei Ying smiles, blushes, feels her belly swoop. She bites her lip, tells herself to be brave. “So um. Do you like. Like me? Because I like. Like you. In a like. Gay way.” 

Nervously, she tries to look away, but Lan Zhan cups her hands around Wei Ying’s cheeks. Both corners of Lan Zhan’s lips turn up, and then she brings their mouths together. She kisses Wei Ying like she’s making a vow, slow and sweet. She lays her forehead against Wei Ying’s and they look at each other, a little cross eyed.

“Yes, Wei Ying. I like you,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “In a… Very gay way,” she adds, smirking. 

Wei Ying sucks in a breath and exhales a small laugh of relief. They breathe together for a moment, something like a promise settling between them.

“Take me home?” Wei Ying whispers, feeling a little bit like she could cry. 

Lan Zhan simply nods, stepping back. She holds out her hand, and Wei Ying takes it. 

*

Back at Lan Zhan’s apartment, they undress each other with unhurried reverence. Wei Ying discovers that Lan Zhan’s tits are even bigger than she thought, and she spends a very long time - much to Lan Zhan’s amusement – touching and kissing, burying her face between them, sucking on her nipples and wondering how she ever thought she was straight. 

They tangle naked in the bed together. Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s hand and shows her how to touch her, soft commands guiding her fingers. She comes on Wei Ying’s fingers and bites Wei Ying’s shoulder, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. Wei Ying watches her in awe, fighting the urge to touch herself at the sight of Lan Zhan’s face going slack with pleasure. 

Lan Zhan gets three more orgasms out of Wei Ying before they’re both too worn out to keep going. They fall asleep as a mess of limbs on sweaty sheets, Wei Ying’s head tucked safely into the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck.

*

Lan Zhan really doesn’t mind the drive home. It’s 5:30 in the morning and Wei Ying is in her passenger seat, all her makeup still on but her hair thrown up in a messy bun. The car is filled with Wei Ying’s voice, laughing and talking a mile a minute about some ridiculous thing a man talked to her about. Her face is lit up, and the sun is starting to rise behind her. 

Lan Zhan enjoys getting home at sunrise. She can end her day how she started it – in quiet daylight, Wei Ying in her arms.