He can feel them both everywhere, standing between the two of them like this. He can feel the way the sweat drips down his back, Simon’s breath on his back, the hard surface of the boat under his hands.

Mingjue’s thumbs stroke gently against the wings of his shoulders as he leans in, setting his mouth to Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Qingqing wants this, too. All three of us. You, me, her.” A shudder runs down Jiang Cheng’s spine; he’s dizzy, breath coming too fast, and he’s shamefully hard just from this, his erection trapped against the edge of the sink. “Would you like that, Cheng-di? It’s fine if you don’t, but if you do –” “Yes.” The word rasps out of him, echo-y and desperate. “I want that.”

Wang Zhi decides to try something. Tang Fan assists.

Robb is leaving tomorrow, but he's here for tonight. Even if Jon and Theon aren't using him as thoroughly as they could be.

"It's not like he's noticing anything you're doing. Face it Greyjoy: when he's on top like that, you could be anyone in the world and he'd enjoy fucking himself on you just as much.” In which Theon is easily manipulated, Jon is a smug git about it, and Robb would like to get off at some point.