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Mortefi wouldn’t consider himself an obtuse man. He just didn’t appreciate useless pleasantries or idle chit-chat. For the vast majority, he could pick between the lines of inconsequential remarks, getting to the root of the conversation before his temper flared from wasted breath.
Though, there was one person that he had continuous struggles with, especially when it pretained to their inability to be candid and ask for assistance. It was a topic they’ve scorched through, and Mortefi assumed after the last blazing that the issue was as good as dead.
He didn’t expect this week would contain the subject again, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.
Particularly when it pertained to a resident from Jinzhou’s more…. unique ethnics.
‘Are you available?’
Barely sparing a glance at his terminal, Mortefi yanked his co-worker back behind the barrier. “I swear to Juè above Carter, if you don’t start using an ounce of logic I’m pulling you from the project,” he sneered as they both ducked, the barrier shaking from the miniature blast of an unstable blend.
“I’m sorry sir,” Carter babbled, keeping his head low. “I thought the tacetite would fuse and-“
“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Mortefi snapped. Standing from his crouched position he took in the ruined tacetite sphere, feeling his temper rise. “I’ve told you time and again to run a simulation before you test a theory. It took Rover three tries to collect the sample we needed and you wasted it on a hunch.”
Exhaling harshly, a sliver of smoke drifting off, Mortefi pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to recenter himself. “Get out.” Turning he walked back toward his desk, his forgotten terminal blinking to remind him of the message he ignored in his haste to protect his underling.
“B-but sir…”
“Out!” he snapped, jerking a hand toward the door. “Go recenter yourself. Be happy I’m not making you ask Rover for another sample.” Fear-mongering should have been beneath him, but Mortefi couldn’t help the fissure of satisfaction as he heard the nervous intake of breath as Carter scrambled out the laboratory, another hasty ‘I’m sorry again sir’ and a bow following his exit. It wasn’t Mortefi’s fault that half of Jinzhou had Rover so high up a pedestal that he seemed unapproachable.
Sinking harshly into his chair, Mortefi reached out for his pad. Pulling back up his messages he flipped to Yao’s, rereading the request. The only project he knew Yao could be reaching out on were the improvements to Jiyan’s lance, which weren’t due for testing till next week.
“Which means he’s hovering,” he grouched.
Grumbling about Principle Investigators sticking their noses where they don’t belong, Mortefi responded, ‘I am not at this moment. Or the foreseeable future.’
‘I can assume the tremors I felt were from your lab area? Is everything alright?’
‘Peachy.’
Mortefi watched as the cursor blinked then disappeared, Yao’s hesitancy obvious in his delayed response. ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can assist with.’
‘Since you’re offering, reach out to Rover for me for another sample.’
‘Of course.’
The easy reply caused Mortefi to snort, clicking his pad off. “That Xiangli Yao. Always pleasing.”
Sighing he leant back further into his chair, staring listlessly at the mess before him. They would have to do containment before cleaning the area. Afterwards, Mortefi would have to send a message out to Jiyan to apologize for the delay on the new weapon testing for the Midnight Rangers.
“What a nuisance.”
So much for an easy Tuesday.
Dodging behind a tree, hearing Rover shout that the TDs were almost down, Mortefi fumbled to answer his ringing terminal. When he asked Yao to request for Rover to collect another sample, he wasn’t expecting to get dragged along Thursday morning.
He also wasn’t expecting them to get ambushed by an influx of heron.
Hearing the click in his ear piece, the call connecting, Yao’s smooth tone came through. “Ah, Mortefi, thank you for answering.”
“You have impeccable timing as always, Yao,” he drawled sarcastically. Leaning over he took aim, firing off consecutive shots at a swooping bird. Hitting it dead on, the beast flapped its wings frantically as it fell to the ground, giving Rover the cover he needed to take out the one he was facing.
As he swerved around, sword lunging forward to plunge into the one Mortefi incapacitated, the researcher turned back to his terminal call. “Is there a particular reason you’re calling?”
“To check your availability, but I can presume from the bullet sounds that you are currently occupied.”
“Rover! Behind you,” Mortefi called as he shot off another round. As the heron swooped upwards Rover jumped back, creating more distance between himself and the aggressive TD. “Currently, yes. Is this something we could sched-shit, one moment.”
Feeling the heat creep along his skin Mortefi dashed out from behind his cover. In one fell swoop, the lightning of flames darted out, curving to hit the additional heron that flew over the cliff. As it arched backwards, the blaze dancing along its wings, the TD changed course with an angry roar, zeroing in on the researcher.
Dropping to his knees, guns cocked, Mortefi let off another series of shots. As the heron swooped past, a gust of aero caused him to kneel over to dodge most of the damage. Grunting as his hair flew loose, Mortefi could feel his temper rising.
“Enough games,” he growled. Perhaps he should have kept his forte in check, but as the flames danced over his scales again, all Mortefi could focus on was taking down the heron as quick as possible. As the TD flapped to its feet, gearing up for another aero attack, the researcher darted forward. As his fury manifested into a red dragon, its gaping maw twisted into a sinister grin, Mortefi let it go with a dramatic flick of his wrist.
The heron didn’t stand a chance as the dragon hit it head on, taking it down in a swirling inferno.
“A bit over kill,” Rover laughed from behind him, jogging past to go collect the echo fragment.
“I’m going to have to agree Mortefi,” came the teasing voice through his ear piece.
“Shut it,” he muttered, feeling his face heat for an entirely different reason than his resonance. “You’re not even here. I’m not taking critic from the peanut gallery.”
Ignoring the hearty chuckle from his muttering, Mortefi checked that Rover was uninjured. Getting a wide grin in response, Jinzhou’s savior wandered off to collect the rest of the echos, giving Mortefi the chance to focus back on his terminal. “Why were you reaching out again?” he hedged.
“It’s unimportant. Are you free tomorrow?”
‘Is this about the lance?’ he pondered. ‘We didn’t get to speak yesterday either because of the impromptu meetings with the board.’
Humming, Mortefi pulled out his pad to double check his calendar. “Not tomorrow. Have a review set up with Carter and need to finish the preliminary tests for our one project. I’m free Saturday afternoon after the conference.”
“That’ll work,” came the agreement. Mortefi rolled his eyes at Yao’s easy going nature. He could have scheduled it next week sometime and the Principle Investigator would have agreed just as readily.
“As riveting as this conversation has been, I do need to go. Rover is heading off, and honestly I wonder about his sense of self-preservation. Perhaps it’s a blessing he invited me along for backup.”
“You are a reassuring presence.”
“Sweet talker,” he shot back, clearing his throat to dispel the flutter in his chest. “I’ll talk to you Saturday.”
“Till then.”
If Mortefi wasn’t so distracted attempting to catch up with the wayward Arbiter he would have caught the wistful, yearning note to Yao’s tone.
He couldn’t be bothered though as the screech of additional TDs carried over the ridge Rover was trudging toward.
It was going to be another long day.
“My day has gone from bad to worse so please keep questions to the point and minimal. The report is over there.” Gesturing toward the wayward pad that was resting on his spare desk, Mortefi pinched his eyes shut. Attempting to refocus was useless.
From the moment he got up that sunny Saturday morning nothing went right. Between spilling his tea, missing breakfast, walking into the wrong conference room, and chasing Carter out after ruining another tacetite from a half-cocked harebrained experiment; Mortefi felt like curling up till his head stopped pounding and his forte ceased crawling beneath his skin.
He was too agitated and overly heated to focus on anything. As he fussed with his lighter, the dull click and snap of it opening and closing giving his mind something mundane to center on, he watched as Yao stepped cautiously into his lab, the doors closing behind him with a soft whoosh. The younger man seemed equal parts worried and confused, brows sloped downwards as he reached for the pad.
“Are these the preliminary results for the lance upgrade?” Yao questioned. His thin fingers clicked through the pages, hazel eyes scanning in quick interest down the report offered.
“Of course it is. You’ve been asking all week on it.” Mortefi would blame the fact that he was so wound up that any tiny shift would catch his attention. As Yao gave a noncommittal hum, his shoulders tensing, infinitesimal, the older man knew something was wrong.
“Yao,” he growled. The other researcher refused to respond. It gave Mortefi enough time to scrutinize him. ‘Skins paler than normal. Clammy almost. He looks perpetually tired. The bruises under his eyes aren’t normal.’
Yao knew he was being analyzed if the involuntary twitch was anything to go by. Standing straight he clasped his hands behind himself in a loose hold, tilting his head up to catch Mortefi’s eye. ‘His fingers have a slight tremor to them. He’s lacking substanance and doing an abysmal job at hiding it.’
Sometimes Mortefi wondered why Yao even bothered trying to play aloof about his condition. It wasn’t something he could control. Just as Mortefi himself couldn’t control the fact that they had a bond, accidentally placed. He was, without any conscious choice, forever connected to Xiangli Yao and his vampiric nature.
Which was a continuous contention between the two. Yao not wanting to be a burden and Mortefi itching to rampage about his lack of self-preservation.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Just yesterday,” he supplied indolently.
“Not whatever Jiyan brought you.” Mortefi could feel a headache coming on again. The week was too long and his mind too muddled to remember the last time he offered his blood to Yao. He couldn’t stop the scowl pulling at his features anymore then Yao could stop playing doltish about his needs. “I know you don’t seek others out-“
“-we’ve been connected from the first moment I unwittingly sampled your life force-“
“-even though I’ve told you time and again your needs outweigh any closed triad relation-“
“-I will still apologize for dragging you into a portion of Jinzhou’s unique history that’s only tall tales to foreigners-“
“-and you seeking nourishment from others isn’t necessarily a reflection of your commitment to me, to the three of us-“
“-no one else tastes like you. It’s like sampling dirt. I have no need for anything else other than the animals I seek out and whatever you can spare me,” Yao cut off firmly. His brows were pinched further together, shoulders tensing even more in defense.
“I am aware I have to share you with Jiyan. Though our needs are vastly different, it doesn’t change the fact that we have both imprinted on you in such a way that you are now forever involuntarily tied to us.”
“I might have had qualms about it in the beginning but you know I’m hardly phased at this point. It’s been over a year. I don’t see why Jiyan has an easier time asking where you cannot. Aren’t we lovers on top of everything else?” Mortefi griped. He didn’t know when he stood from his seat, but he took the opportunity of motion to crowd Yao back.
Bumping into the edge of the desk the younger man looked contrite. “Of course we are but-“
“Excellent! I’m glad you’re finally seeing reason.”
Perhaps it was the blend of the deplorable week he had combined with the fact that he’s been teetering on the edge of lunacy all day; regardless, as Mortefi raised his more draconic hand, nails glinting in the lab’s sterile lighting, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he slipped from the ledge.
All he knew was a stray thought of ‘if I scratch myself he won’t be able to resist’ was replaced with ‘fuck’ as he was slammed into the desk. Frantic hands buried into his hair, yanking his head back to expose his neck. As serrated teeth pierced deep into his skin, overlapping the small scratch that was tauntingly made, Mortefi grunted, pushing furtively against Yao’s immovable frame.
It was a gut reaction, his urge to flee. It didn’t matter how many times they did this, Mortefi couldn’t stop the desperate whimper that pulled from his throat, body tensing as his heart raced. An unnatural sensation of trepidation slithered through his system. It was like the primitive portion of his brain flared to life, sensing something was uniquely dangerous about the smiling, unassuming face of Xiangli Yao. As he was locked in place, crowded back, neck searing in discomfort, Mortefi jerked helplessly against his constraint.
As a moment passed, then two, he felt his body relax, his mind clearing of fog. Refocusing, he became aware of the hand that was threaded through his own, metal rubbing soothing circles into his palm. He was bracketed by strong thighs, the other hand that brutally yanked his head back earlier now wrapped around his waist, holding his sagging body up effortlessly in a comforting curve.
Gripping the hand in his he shifted, leaning his head farther back for easier access. Yao gave an appreciative hum, a deep rumble shaking through his chest as he pushed forward more, melding their bodies together. Mortefi let the lethargic sensation overcome him. His head felt empty, body relaxing even more into the strong embrace as Yao took greedily from him.
It was only when his feet started tingling did he grunt. “Yao,” he murmured. A low whine was his only answer, but a beat later he was released. A sleek tongue ran across the puncture wounds, tickling his inflamed skin. Pulling back fully only to knock their heads together, it was Yao’s turn to rest against him. Being pulled into a full embrace they leant against the desk, weight perched precariously on the edge.
“Sap,” he teased. Soft lips sealed over his in response. It was a languid kiss. There was no rush between them, and though he still flinched mentally at the strange copper taste that always lingered in his lover’s mouth, Mortefi eased into it as he did anything else: with focus and dedication.
“I believe that is you,” came the rejoinder as they parted. Face burning, he shoved Yao away, ignoring the laugh that followed as they untangled from their embrace.
“So this is the report on the preliminary results?” As he snagged the pad again, Xiangli Yao had a more jubilant energy about him.
Mortefi, on the other hand, felt bone deep exhaustion. “The report you weren’t actually here for?”
“I’ll review it,” Yao went on, ignoring the jab. “Please go home and rest Mortefi.” Stepping back into his space, his head was tilted up by coaxing digits. Cool lips slid over his again in a gentle press. Mortefi blamed the fact he was still light headed on why he leant forward when Yao pulled away, trying to chase the sweet sensation.
Grunting, Mortefi waved him off. He needed Yao gone before he did anything more embarrassing from blood loss.
“Please be careful next week.” Stalled by the exit Yao peered back at him. Mortefi wondered if he looked as rumpled as he felt. “I know Jiyan will be with you, as the pull of the moon will be at its highest, but there’s been a strange influx of TDs around the excursion area.”
“We’ll be fine.” Mortefi knew he should be taking the potential threat against his person more seriously, but the thought of anything being able to cause Jiyan, and in turn himself, any harm when Jiyan was shifted was hilarious. If the General was considered an unstoppable fortress normally, he was practically invincible on the full moon. “But I’ll heed your concern.”
As he was left alone in his office, Mortefi sighed. If he knew his life in Jinzhou was going to be as chaotic as it turned out, he would have never left his home country.
Though, as he packed up and dimmed the lights to his lab, he had to admit he’s never been able to resist a riveting tale. Mortefi supposed he only had himself to blame for the hectic existence he lived now.