#almost-kiss inspired by that one scene in t-bird at ako!

[apopcornkernel]

just one (hold your breath)

[AO3] T, 1.4k words. no warnings apply.

Ningguang/Yelan — An exchange of intelligence between the Tianquan and her topmost spy.

tags: #tension and wanting and the useless repression of desire, #you know the usual poppy fic themes

A knock at the door. “Lady Ningguang.” It’s Baixiao. “A Miss Yelan here to see you.”

Ningguang’s eyes flick up from the report she’s studying, but her expression is passive otherwise. “Enter.”

There’s a murmuring outside the door, and then it opens with grace, the sharp clicking of Yelan’s heels heralding her entrance.

“Miss Yelan.”

Yelan’s smile is oh-so-sly. “Lady Ningguang.”

Behind her, Baixiao has closed the door, but Ningguang maintains her studied indifference for a moment more. Cooly, she says, “What can I do for you?”

“Many, many things.” Yelan’s eyes glitter with amusement. “Although the first would be to properly introduce me to your staff. It is quite humiliating to have to remind them of my name each time.”

Ningguang snorts, abandoning her aloofness at last. “And how are they to remember your name when you, more likely than not, come dressed as a completely different person?”

“It only says something about the incapability of your little ducklings.” Yelan sniffs. “And anyways I own Yanshang Teahouse now. You’d think they’d know me at least.”

“Don’t sulk. And don’t lie either—I know you like the anonymity.”

Yelan rolls her eyes. “Yes, my lady.”

“What do you have for me today, Yelan?”

Yelan grins. “Guess.”

Ningguang sets her papers down and raises an imperious eyebrow.

“...or not,” Yelan mutters. “Fine. Be that way.”

From seemingly nowhere, Yelan produces a narrow sheaf of little slips and hands them over to Ningguang. Ningguang’s gold-wrought nail guards graze Yelan’s fingertips when she grasps for the papers, and Ningguang carefully ignores the shiver that runs through Yelan at the touch.

“Hmm.” Ningguang flips through the crude notes, graciously allowing Yelan time to recompose herself. There is no place for this in the great endeavor of ruling Liyue. “So you did manage to get your hands on proof of Snezhnayan collusion. All signed with their own seals as well. Impressive.”

Ningguang won’t ask how Yelan procured both the documents and the seals. For her peace of mind, and most importantly, for plausible deniability.

Yelan’s smile has returned to its fullest extent of cat-that-ate-the-canary. “Yes. We’ve long suspected that Kandinsky Holdings had a hand in Lu Xiang’s abrupt market domination, and I finally have our evidence. If you give me a little more time, I can make a quick trip to Snezhnaya and dig deeper for ties to the Fatui.”

Ningguang sets the papers down with more force than necessary. Her nails are gouging little indents in the parchment. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

Yelan only laughs. “Relax, sunlight. The Ninth couldn’t even begin to handle me.”

“I am certainly not worried,” Ningguang starts, but Yelan’s already waved her off.

“Your eyes are tight, your jaw is clenched, I could go on—although honestly, I’d rather not tell you more. I like being able to read you so easily.” Yelan rounds her desk, leans her hip against the heavy cuihua edge. “So what will it be? Do I have your authorization or what?”

Ningguang cuts her a look of barely withheld displeasure. “You are well aware that there are official channels for this, yes?”

Yelan huffs. “Oh, please. Since when did we work that way?”

“I just don’t like,” Ningguang says, “you spending so much time in the territory of the enemy. With the enemy. And not one who’s managed to get his hands on your other jade bracelet.”

“Ha.” The smile Yelan gives her is bittersweet. “Well. The things we all sacrifice for this country.”

Some more than most, Ningguang does not say. But she does allow herself to steal a glance at the little copper mirror perched atop her desk, silently mapping out the face that follows her in waking and in sleeping. The copper overlays everything with a gold-brown sheen, but Ningguang can still discern the newly-acquired coat that hangs like mountain snow on Yelan’s shoulders, and the midnight hair that remains resolutely asymmetrical. Yelan brute-forces her way into being fashionable, and she has never ceased to pull it off.

Ningguang blinks, and quite suddenly Yelan is looking back at her through the mirror. No beaten copper surface can stifle those eyes of narrowed, burning jade.

“You know,” Yelan says abruptly, “I never did get back to you about my extra compensation. Hazard pay and all that.”

“You are already paid far higher than the majority of my employees.”

“I am, yes.” Yelan lets a beat of silence pass. Then: “But I’m not after monetary gain.”

Ningguang cannot tear her eyes away from Yelan’s in the mirror. It’s as if she’s being kept in place by some black spell. “Oh?”

“Mm.” Yelan’s hand slides over the low back of her wooden chair, and the shift in position lets her lean closer over Ningguang, whisper into her ear. “There are other ways to reimburse me.”

“Hm,” Ningguang says. “Really.”

“Of course.” Yelan’s fingers touch her chin, tilt Ningguang’s head so that her gaze meets Yelan’s. “You need only ask, my lady.”

“Ask,” Ningguang scoffed. “Me? Ask?”

Yelan shrugged. “I had to at least try.”

“Don’t.”

Yelan smiles, and uses the very tip of her thumb to draw Ningguang’s lower lip down. “We’ll see about that.”

“Nothing of worth will come from this.” Ningguang’s voice is hoarse with all that she denies herself. “You do know this, yes?”

Because Ningguang knows: This way lies only ruin. Ruin upon ruin upon ruin, and the shivering abyss of all that’s been left unsaid between them.

“I do know.” Yelan’s so close that Ningguang can count her lashes. “The difference, Lady Ningguang, is that I am willing to pay the price. Are you?”

Yes, she thinks. “No,” she says.

Yelan lets out a not-quite sigh, hot breath puffing against her lips. “I don’t know what I expected,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

“It’s for your own good.” And mine. But Ningguang has not made any move away. “I have learned that it is best to keep my subordinates at arm’s length.”

“I do think that this is much less than arm’s length, sunlight.”

Ningguang chooses to ignore this, instead focusing on not feeling the rasp of Yelan’s callused thumb brushing her cheek. “Are we finished?”

“Almost.”

“What else is there to—”

Yelan kisses her, hard and fast against the corner of her mouth, and just as quickly retreats backward, wiping at the purple lipstick that’s been smudged out of her lips with the force of the kiss.

“That,” Yelan says. “I’ll consider my hazard pay taken care of.”

Ningguang blinks. Unknowing, her hand has come up to touch her lips. “You...”

“Sorry. It was inappropriate, I know. I won’t do it again.”

Ningguang’s composure almost cracks. That is the exact opposite of what her blood sings for.

“I’ll... I should take my leave now, I suppose.”

“Do that,” Ningguang says numbly. Her mouth still stings with the almost-kiss, prickling with the knowledge that it had been so close.

Yelan hesitates by the door, and Ningguang can tell she doesn’t want to go—this people reading goes both ways, and Yelan’s shoulders are taut, her hand tentative against the door, her eyes begging to be told to stay. “Is there anything else?”

Ningguang should say no. She should turn away, and forget this ever happened.

But—

But she is weakened, her defenses dashed to pieces by Yelan’s surprise kiss. And though she will never beg, this may be the closest she’ll ever come to considering it.

So Ningguang says, throat dry: “There is still the matter of procuring your authorization.”

“Oh,” Yelan says. She looks caught off-guard. As if she didn’t really expect Ningguang to actually say something. “Oh, yes, of course.”

“I have made it clear what I think of the Fatui, and of you involving yourself in their affairs.” Ningguang’s eyes lock onto Yelan’s, and she watches Yelan swallow, the movement of her throat. “I will not be so easily persuaded on this matter. But—”

Hear what I cannot say, Ningguang thinks. Speak what I cannot speak.

For a long, taut moment of silence, Yelan only searches her face, almost desperate. But then at last she must find what she seeks, for her face clears.

Yelan smiles, too bright to be truly wicked.

“Between you and me, sunlight, I’m not above a little bit of bribery and corruption either.”

She stalks over, and Ningguang lets Yelan seize her face to kiss.