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Thame finds Po and Jun hunched over by the kitchen counter, backs turned to Thame as they discuss seemingly seriously, based on their rapid, hushed whispers. Thame clears her throat to get their attention.
Po and Jun jump.
“Hi baby,” Po says as she turns, smiling sheepishly.
Thame raises a brow. “What’s going on here?”
Po and Jun look at each other like they’re communicating telepathically, which is funny, considering Po is human and doesn't have powers like that like Thame and Jun do.
“Well…?” Thame prompts.
Jun smirks, “P’Po is trying to make you a blood cake.”
“A what?”
Jun huffs. “A blood cake, Thame. Like a chocolate cake, but with blood instead of chocolate.”
“Riiight,” Thame crosses her arms. She doesn’t miss the way Po’s eyes drop to her chest. “And how is that going for you?”
“I’m trying my breast— I mean, best,” Po sputters, face going red. “I’m trying my best.”
Jun’s face twists into a look of disgust. “I’m leaving.”
When the front door clicks shut, Thame approaches Po in the kitchen. “A blood cake, huh?” Thame muses.
Po backs into the counter by the sink as Thame steps into her space. She exhales, “Yes.”
“How would you get the blood?” Thame asks.
“I’d make a cut on my palm or thumb.”
Thame frowns. “There are other ways to get blood, phi.”
“Ways where you have to bite me? Yeah,” Po rolls her eyes. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“You’re not gonna make it anymore?” Thame pouts.
Po’s brows furrow. “You still want it?”
Thame scoffs. “Is that a trick question?” she pauses. “Although… I want you more.”
Po swats her shoulder weakly. “Smooth talker.”
Thame grins. “Just honest. My girlfriend is so hot, I can’t help it.”
Po hums, throwing her arms around Thame’s neck. “Still want that blood cake?”
Thame’s hands fly to Po’s waist, then slides down to the curve of her ass. “Which cake are we talking about?”
Po’s breath hitches. “I’m serious, Thame.”
“No, you’re not.”
Po giggles. “No, I’m not.”
Po’s lips crash against Thame’s. The taste of Po’s blood dances on Thame’s tongue when her fangs graze across Po’s lips, splitting through flesh.
“Mm. Sweet.” Thame licks her lips.
“Better than the cake?”
“Haven’t even tasted that yet,” Thame huffs. She pats Po’s butt. “Surely not gonna be better than yours, though.”
“Oh my god. Enough.”