[ No. Not leaving. Never again. He's distantly aware of soft lips to fingers and palm, of the steadying grip to his hand until...nothing.
Nothing until hot liquid drips into his mouth. Then he stirs and grabs onto Lestat's offered wrist and sets to drinking, hungrily, even frenzied - except the hand still holding Xiao Yang's is gentle, unwilling even in his desperate hunger to let go.
He won't stop until Lestat makes him - or, perhaps, his husband tugs him to pull back or slow. ]
no subject
Nothing until hot liquid drips into his mouth. Then he stirs and grabs onto Lestat's offered wrist and sets to drinking, hungrily, even frenzied - except the hand still holding Xiao Yang's is gentle, unwilling even in his desperate hunger to let go.
He won't stop until Lestat makes him - or, perhaps, his husband tugs him to pull back or slow. ]