[It's always so dangerous, meeting Zhongli's gaze. His eyes are so bright, so intense, so easy to get lost in if you're not careful. A clear sign that there's more to him than he lets on. In hindsight, Childe doesn't know how he ever assumed Zhongli was anything less than a god.
Childe's looked at him enough that he really should be used to it. And really, he kind of is--by now, he can mostly stop himself from staring like every other lovestruck fool in the harbor. But now and then, Zhongli still finds ways to hold him spellbound. When he smiles just so, or turns his face towards the sunset, or says things like I'm glad you're here with devastating sincerity.
He'd known, he'd known this would be one of those moments. But knowing doesn't help, and he finds himself caught anyway.
Gods, he's an idiot. He shouldn't have turned around.
At least Zhongli saw him at the pier, straight off of the ship. He knows, then, that the pink of Childe's skin must come from his time in the sun. That surely, if he looks more flushed now than he did earlier, it's just because they've moved out of direct sunlight. Not for... any other reasons.]
I'm not nervous. [He says, nervously--but it's the truth to the letter, if not in spirit. If Zhongli's teasing him, then Childe will complain to hide his embarrassment, but that's a harmless enough result that he has no reason to be nervous about it. If Zhongli's not teasing...
...Well. He doesn't actually know what he'll do then. But that's why it's only a half-truth.
His pulse betrays him anyway, rabbit-fast and impossible to hide when Zhongli's fingers are so close to his heart. "Still too warm"? Hah. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised to hear the ice on Dragonspine has melted away.
Keep still, Zhongli says, but it's an unnecessary warning. Childe isn't sure he could move even if he wanted to.]
[ they're too close now for zhongli to not notice it. the shineless blue in childe's eye fixed on his, deep and enraptured. zhongli could have held it there for an age.
has childe ever asked himself if zhongli shared this sort of friendship with anyone else? how often he shares his promenades and meals and drinks with any others, compared to him? if the quiet suggestions of intimate affection were words he offered to someone else? if not, they may be questions worth parsing out. if he had, and if he'd decided that his presence was a minnow in a great sea of zhongli's memory, he's deluding himself.
he saw how the sun painted a flush on the high points of childe's face. that redness sunk even deeper now. zhongli can't deny the possibility that it may be because they're out of the sun, but there was just as much of a chance that it meant something else. the look in childe's eye and the rabbiting pulse in his chest told him otherwise.
"otherwise" could mean that childe wanted him. he isn't resisting his zhongli pulls on the front of his strap, or his fingers brushing against the muscled curve of his chest. zhongli's nerves jump to meet every movement and touch against damp skin. maybe childe should strip altogether.
ah. so zhongli wanted him too.
there's a brief smile when childe insists he's all right. zhongli is leaning in to bite, lip peeling back to expose his teeth: normal aside from the sharpened pairs of canines, a scant few centimeters from the crowns of his other teeth, easy enough to hide. he stops just short of the buckle and raises his head to face childe again.
he studied him carefully, smile falling. his fingertips slide against the underside of the belt and stop just under the pulse of his heart. he feigns gentle concern. ]
Your heart is beating fast.
[ one hand slips free and lightly touches his fingertips to childe's cheek. his free hand still holds the strap away from childe's chest, arguably keeping him tethered and close. he runs his thumb over the pink flush over his cheekbone, seemingly benign to his reactions. ]
You also seem to be burned here. I have a salve from Inazuma to treat this, if that interests you.
He must. Childe has his blind spots, yes, but he isn't a complete idiot--there's no way Zhongli isn't aware of what he's doing, not when he so easily calls attention to Childe's racing pulse and flushed skin. He's got to be doing this on purpose, but the very idea seems impossible.
It's true that he's never given much thought to Zhongli's potential other companions. That he hadn't assumed anything they did was particularly notable to Zhongli, not like it was to Childe. They'd been dancing around the precipice of something before the truth came out, but that didn't necessarily mean Zhongli treated him any differently than anyone else he was fond of.
At least, that's what he'd thought. But now, Zhongli is--is undeniably flirting with him, no matter how wrong it feels to ascribe such a term to Zhongli, a man who seems untouchable even to a person like Childe. He can't possibly not be doing this on purpose, right? He's seen Childe's reactions for what they were, and chosen to move closer to him instead of steering them away towards a safe, professional distance.
...Or maybe he's just reading too much into it. Maybe he's seeing what he wants to see, tempted evermore by the most dangerous path he can find. It wouldn't be unlike him.
So few people are capable of flustering him. He would feel ridiculous, staring at Zhongli like a wide-eyed schoolboy the way he is, but he hardly even notices his own expression when he's so distracted by Zhongli. There are too many possible revelations happening in short succession, he doesn't know where to start.]
Uh. [Right. He should speak. Or do anything at all to get his thoughts to move beyond Zhongli's fingers are so long.
[ childe doesn't refuse him. there is no sputtering, no shoving, no shrinking away. his ever-mischievous, silver-tongued companion flushes even deeper, staring at him wide-eyed, like he's the only thing that exists in their star. he's flustered, off-guard, confused, and zhongli knows what motivates it. childe unearthed an old and unfamiliar feeling, urging him to tip up childe's chin with his fingertips, reel him in by the belt across his chest, savor the sight of him.
he doesn't. ]
Yes.
[ surprise. actually he has a pretty good reason to have that salve on him. he slips his hand from childe's cheek and turns to fish something from his pocket. reluctantly—though childe wouldn't know it—his fingers also unhook from around the strap on his chest.
in his hand, he holds a thin, circular metal tin, no bigger than the divot in the center of his palm. he opens it and reveals the inside: soft and waxy with a blue tint, lightly melted along the circular edge. ]
This mixture made from cocoa butter, sea ganoderma extract, and the crushed rind of an amakumo fruit, among other natural ingredients. It can be used for healing burns and dry skin. It also acts as a sun protectant.
[ maybe a normal person would offer it for the other person to put on. put zhongli is dipping two fingers in, running circles until the pads of his fingertips are coated. ]
It appears sheer on the skin after application. The blue is extremely faint and imperceptible.
[Zhongli lets him go, and Childe can't stop the small flare of disappointment that follows. He pushes it away immediately--what had he even expected?--turning his attention to the tin in Zhongli's hand.
He doesn't move away. He doesn't move closer either, but then again, there isn't much room between them. His eyes track the motion of Zhongli's fingertips, but he looks away quickly, lest he get distracted by inappropriate daydreams. Celestia knows his thoughts can't be trusted right now.
Granted, not that his second choice is much easier on his heart. His gaze flicks up to Zhongli's face, as if searching for evidence of the balm on Zhongli's skin even though Zhongli had just said it wasn't that visible. Is it at least partially an excuse just to look at him while he's so close? Maybe. But maybe he's searching for other things while he's at it--hints of mischief in Zhongli's eyes, for instance, or any other possible cracks in his facade. Anything to let him know what Zhongli might be thinking, that might help him navigate this unfamiliar path they've wandered onto.
Still, even with his focus elsewhere, he has it in him to smirk in amusement.]
And just how did you pay for that, huh? [It's a joke, playful and good-natured, but one he can't resist when the opportunity is right there.] Don't tell me the poor ferrylady is still handling your bills.
[If that woman isn't at least halfway in love with Zhongli, Childe will eat his scarf. Not that he pays attention to that or anything.]
[ from the ferry lady. but childe doesn't have to know that unless he asks. ]
I have no need for such things, even in my current vessel. However, it would be a waste not to find use for a kind gesture. It seems that it provides a dose of moisture to the lips.
[ 😌
anyway, this answers the question of whether or not childe can see evidence of it on his face: there is none, only a sheen of sweat and a collected countenance. if he was flirting at all, he seems unaware, all of his actions measured and precise, based on the circumstances.
this doesn't mean that he doesn't know how to flirt, though. you learn a thing or two when you've been alive as long as he has. he had sometimes been acutely aware of childe's attraction to him, almost purposely provoking in little gestures and sincere words. only now was it coming to a head, when zhongli finally came close enough to feel his pulse, mouth inches from his chest. it made zhongli's old heart beat up against his breast.
his eyes raise up to childe's, calm and reserved. there's not a crack.
he raises his fingers to one of childe's burning cheeks. his focus is centered on his cheekbone, but he's attentive to all things in his periphery. ]
Predictably, Childe walks straight into the trap and lets his eyes drop to Zhongli's lips. He lingers for a moment, two, his expression blank--he's had a lot of practice keeping his thoughts off of his face, after all. It's meeting Zhongli's gaze again that's harder--something in those Cor Lapis eyes always makes him feel so utterly seen, as if there's nothing at all he could do to stop Zhongli from understanding every part of him with a single look.
Ugh. Archons.
...Would that be so bad, though? He's wondered that before. Right now, with Zhongli's fingertips inches away from his skin, he's seeing a compelling argument in favor of letting himself be known.
His face is still flushed, heart still pounding in his chest, but his eyes remain fixed on Zhongli's face, abandoning any pretense of trying not to stare. When he nods in acquiescence, it's so minute that it wouldn't have been noticeable with any kind of distance between them--good thing there isn't any.]
[ senses sharpened with age, zhongli never misses the near-imperceptibilies: darting eyes dropping to the lips, quiet pulses of the chest that come from quickened breathing, shallow nods of the head. childe is staring like he's spellbound and zhongli drinks it in, for once indulging the part of him that seeks out regency over someone else.
if only childe didn't look the way he does. if only he didn't seem to weaken when zhongli sets the balm onto the floor beside them and takes his chin between his fingers, holding him steady. he holds childe's deep blue gaze, drawn to him like a pinpoint of light and seeing nothing else.
he knows this deep flush isn't a sunburn. the way his eyes fall half-lidded and searches between childe's finally makes that obvious. he's irresistible this way. zhongli watched those orange strands of hair streaked gold with sunlight, mouth pulled from beaming smile to dissatisfied line, the stifled hunger that belies the curiosity and levity, every facet of him as fascinating and alluring as the next. ]
Mm. This may do more good here.
[ his eyes fall to childe's mouth. his fingers reach and slowly slide the balm over his lower lip. he takes in its softness, watches the drag of it, watching the shine that follows. he and childe are still so close.
he had endured those belts around childe's ribcage for long enough. despite knowing better, everything zhongli does now is a small act of revenge. ]
[Childe is sharp. He is constantly observing, assessing, sussing out benefits and dangers alike and orienting himself around them. It's one of the small tells that belies his casual, cheerful demeanor, so long as a person knows what they're looking for.
He's making use of those skills now, and he doesn't try to hide it. His eyes are dark with unspoken attraction, matching his blush and his heartbeat, but he ignores the giveaways of his own body in favor of searching Zhongli's face. He watches like a hawk, assessing every move Zhongli makes as closely as he would an opponent on the battlefield.
It's highly possible that Zhongli is teasing him still. He won't discount that possibility. But Zhongli looks very much like how Childe feels right now, if he's honest with himself. He watches Zhongli watching his lips, enraptured, as if even an act of divine might beside them couldn't tear his attention away. And if he's not teasing, then it means... Zhongli looked at the gap between them and found it unacceptable. For whatever reason, it means Zhongli's chosen here and now to return them to that precipice and take the first step over the edge.
It feels unbelievable, but at the same time, it makes sense. Right now, Zhongli looks like he's knowingly walked into something dangerous for the thrill of it, and now he's got to reckon with the consequences. That is a feeling Childe knows all too well.
He wonders what Zhongli would do if Childe caught his finger with his teeth. If he were to grab Zhongli's wrist and wrench it away, to drag Zhongli forward and taste the tea on his tongue.
(He wonders if Zhongli would stop him if he tried to get up and walk away. He suspects Zhongli would. And that's...)
There are a hundred reasons he shouldn't tear down this last wall between them. No matter how paper-thin it is, no matter how badly he wants to--even with his senses overrun by Zhongli, a part of him is still acutely aware of why this would be a bad idea. It would be terribly dangerous to indulge like this.
How unfortunate, then, that there's nothing Childe craves more than the knife's edge.
This close, it'll be impossible to miss the moment Childe comes to a decision. The slow, small, upward quirk of his lips. The glint of mischief in his eyes, aroused by Zhongli's behavior--practically shameless, as far as Zhongli goes. Regardless of Zhongli's initial intentions, it seems he's chosen to take this as a playful challenge. To meet Zhongli head-to-head, and either call his bluff, or... see what happens if he doesn't.
How very Childe of him.
True to his word, he holds very still. He lets Zhongli run the balm along his lip without comment, though he never takes his eyes off of Zhongli's face. Eventually, in a murmur that sounds far too satisfied for someone who has no upper hand to speak of--]
[ and who else would be just as observant but the stolid, patient, imposing god of earth?
but it doesn't take a god for anyone to notice the way that interest and elation seeps into childe's countenance. his smile is almost a sneer, and his once-apprehensive eyes are shining with absorption and interest. he's caught on. there's no way for zhongli to back out of this—and maybe he hadn't want to.
his stomach lurches, hot and pleasant. whatever comes next is unpredictable, an engrossing thought in itself. childe sounds satisfied when he finally speaks, and zhongli's feels intrigue and a bit of disappointment and overbearing attraction all at once.
how long had he wanted childe? did he know that he ached for him this badly? and what would he get out of this, other than the satisfaction of knowing that childe wanted him as much as he seemed to, and he was willing to fight to have him.
he doesn't bother hiding it anymore. zhongli's eyes flicker back to meet his, the color of a stormy sea. zhongli draws his hand back in front of him, but he keeps childe's hand propped in his fingers.
he slowly smiles. there's a challenge in his eyes. ]
[He doesn't show it openly, but Zhongli's smile sends a thrill through him. It's the same feeling he gets when he comes across a challenging opponent in a fight, which isn't that different from what's happening, honestly. He really shouldn't depend on a single person for this much joy, but he can't help it. There's no one like Zhongli.]
Right here.
[Finally, he moves--but he reaches out towards Zhongli instead of towards himself, tapping his finger lightly, just once, against Zhongli's lips. Then, quick as lightning and without breaking eye contact, he lets his fingers dart down and swipe the tin of balm from Zhongli's hand. His smile grows into that playful expression Zhongli's seen on his face so many times, but there's an edge to it now, something bolder and more daring. The sort of smile that says he's looked at the risk involved here and found it incapable of deterring him.
It's a gamble--Zhongli could just take the tin back. He could ignore, or misunderstand, what Childe's boldly daring him to do. He could decide that he doesn't want to do anything scandalous, even something as small as a kiss, in public (not that they're in view of other people, really, but still). But if Zhongli chooses to pull away, to end this game, well--you can't miss what you don't know, right? So it'd be fine. He guesses.]
[ from his purview, childe's attitude towards him was easy to understand: an untold and ravenous attraction to a god above him and the power he holds, a rung on a ladder a thousand leagues up. childe still reached for him, braving the endless climb, scrabbling for any instance of even ground. he wanted to be worthy. he liked the chase.
so zhongli is careful not to give too much of himself away at once. he softens his mouth the moment before childe touches his bare fingertip to his lips. he doesn't startle when childe snatches the salve from his palm, eyes still fixed on him—as if childe hadn't stolen the tin away. zhongli merely let him take it.
that playful, irresistible smile is so close. it would be so easy to crane his neck forward, sink his hands through childe's damp hair, skim their lips, dare him to do more.
instead, his eyes flicker down only to gently slide his finger beneath the belt around childe's ribs, right at the middle of his chest. he does not pull him, only anchors him there, gently straining it against his back. his sharp, golden eyes slide back to him, marbled like gemstones, incandescent.
he murmurs: ]
Go ahead.
the way I wrote this whole tag and then closed my browser and lost it
[Honestly I flipped a coin to decide if Childe gets to figure out what's going on and Google said he does, so.
Zhongli's reaction both delights and irritates him in equal measure. He narrows his eyes--picking up on how easily Zhongli let him take the tin--but he's mollified by what follows, the low tone and the clear encouragement.
He doesn't understand why this is happening now, of all times. He hasn't done or said anything significant, he isn't embarking on a particularly dangerous mission (though he had mentioned the search for Scaramouche). But whatever the reason, he supposes it doesn't matter much; Zhongli is daring him to act, and he intends to follow through.
He slips the tin into his own pocket; it's unnecessary now. Despite the gentle touch Zhongli uses, the slight shift of his harness rubs against already-chafed skin, but he ignores the pain. Still, he glances down out of reflex--and pauses.
His clothes, the only thing different about him today. The way Zhongli hadn't been able to keep his eyes on Childe's face as they'd spoken. The fact that Zhongli's the one who brought up his discomfort. Childe had assumed it was just concern for a friend, but could it be...
Did Zhongli just. Fall victim to the classic mortal blunder of being distracted by something he found attractive?!
Oh. Oh. This is the best day of Childe's life.
It's clear as day when he comes to his realization--when he lifts his head, the sunlight catches his eyes, illuminating his smug grin.]
Xiansheng. [He speaks quietly, but he's so clearly delighted by the revelation he's just had.] In public? I didn't think you had it in you.
[He'd intended to play up the balm ruse--to close the small distance between them once and for all under the guise of passing moisture from his lips to Zhongli's. And indeed, he still wants to. Now, perhaps, even more than he did just a moment ago. But he can't pass this opportunity up.]
[ and, of course, zhongli can see the moment when all of it finally lands. childe's gaze follows his hand, and when he looks back at zhongli, childe is beaming from every corner as if he'd won the battle. and who wouldn't feel this way, knowing a god might be hungry for you? how does it feel when you know that all the while, an archon had been gazing at you and your clothes and wishing it was in his power to undress you?
if only childe's wild eyes weren't so exhilarating. if only zhongli didn't feel that inward shiver with childe so close to him, muttering quietly, grinning with that beautiful, soft, giving mouth. zhongli remembers it under his fingertips.
there will be no more of that balm, then.
zhongli's delicate smile mutes only slightly. he drops his gaze to the belt, running his thumb over the leather, first finger still hooked underneath it. he still holds childe's chin in his hand, keeping it level with his. ]
We are not public, as there are no witnesses about us. Although I wish we were at a more convenient location...
[ he doesn't seem to be bothered that he gave himself away. he had been calculated in his execution, although it had technically been childe and his harness who instigated it in the first place.
his smile falters entirely, his head finally canting as he leans towards him. the anchor at childe's harness pulls gently, bring him slightly forward to meet him. his molten eyes narrow. he can feel his breath. ]
[It's perhaps the best answer he could've gotten--his eyes sparkle, or something like it, and his delighted grin only grows as Zhongli urges him closer.
He can't help letting his thoughts run wild for a moment, caught up in the idea of what a "more convenient" location would mean. It's incredibly tempting to offer--but if he suggests they move, then Zhongli will have to let go and move away so that they can get up and leave, and he doesn't want that. Oh, what a dilemma.
Well, that can be something for later Childe to think about. For now, he lifts a hand to curl long fingers over Zhongli's wrist as he closes the distance even further, until he's practically speaking into Zhongli's mouth--his words felt more than heard. He lowers his voice to a murmur, but he still sounds far too pleased; it's the kind of tone that indicates he's never going to let Zhongli forget this, even if Zhongli isn't embarrassed by it.]
Well, I can't let your generous gift go to waste, can I?
[There's no point in a warning, or in asking Zhongli for permission that he clearly already has. So Childe doesn't bother, simply tilting his head to finally, finally slot their mouths together. Under other circumstances, this might've been nerve-wracking. Maybe it's the heat skewing his judgment, or maybe he's drunk off of the gleam of desire in Zhongli's beautiful eyes; whatever the reason, it doesn't feel nearly as delicate as it could have. It doesn't feel anything other than right.
One of them should probably care about getting caught. But it sure isn't going to be Childe.]
[ there was probably a better way for this to happen.
this could have been something slower, more refined and calculated, a gradual pull together and a lock in place. they could have been somewhere with more atmosphere: high up mount tianheng while watching the sunrise, or on a red terrace overlooking the port at midnight. maybe zhongli wouldn't have had to say anything at all; the way they'd look at one another and finally, gently meet their lips might have said enough.
there will be other opportunities, he thinks. the evidence of their feelings had piled dangerously high before now, a breath away from toppling, and childe didn't seem the type to easily change his mind.
childe's words graze warmly against his lips. a shiver rolls down zhongli's neck as he slowly smiles and finally closes his iridescent eyes. thoughts about the balm are filed away for later; there are more pressing things at hand, and there are ways to steal it back.
childe kisses him deeply and greedily, the way zhongli imagined he might. zhongli is solid and steady against it, slowly guiding their mouths closed and open again, want rippling through each kiss. he smooths his hand over childe's chest, weaving the strap over and beneath his fingers; childe's pulse leaps to meet him, hot skin and sweat seeping through his shirt. he licks into childe's mouth, sighing softly as their tongues slip against each other. it's a brushfire through his body.
they'll have to stop eventually, but now is too soon for how long he's wanted this. ]
[Something well-planned, somewhere meaningful--perhaps it would've been nice, yes. For all that Childe chases violence and danger, he's a little too romantic at heart. Sweetness has no place in the Fatui, but here in Liyue, it feels ever-so-slightly possible.
Childe likes this, though. Not just because he's unintentionally riled Zhongli up enough that he's chosen to throw caution to the wind--even if that, too, will buoy his mood for weeks. But it's more that there's something beautifully honest about the two of them coming together in this way. No significant arrangements, no monumental gestures--just a natural progression, as if they've been doing this all along. As if they'd dropped a thread they were already holding, and they were simply waiting for the right moment to pick it up.
Zhongli's fingers slip between the strap and his skin, and Childe makes a soft sound when it pulls against his tender skin, unable to help himself. Suddenly, it's unacceptable that he's not touching Zhongli, and his fingers flex with conflicted desire. He wants to pull Zhongli closer, into his lap--he wants to shove everything off of the table, or even drag them both onto the floor. He'll figure that out soon enough. For now, though, he finally reaches out to put his hands on Zhongli, resting one just below his jaw and the other on his thigh. Ostensibly, it's for balance as he leans close. Truthfully, it's just because he's feeling extremely bold right now.
Not once has Childe ever thought about his harness outside of it's practical uses. Now he'll never be able to wear it without thinking about how much Zhongli apparently likes it. Gods.
He parts his lips for Zhongli, warm and inviting. He savors the taste of him; dimly, he knows he should probably care more about who, what, Zhongli actually is, but right now, it doesn't seem important.
(That's what makes Zhongli so dangerous, really. It's so easy to love him as just... Zhongli.)
He pulls back, breathing heavily. It's so, so warm, in a way that has nothing to do with the weather.]
Show me.
[He's thinking of Zhongli's offer from earlier--to prove exactly how he'd broken the other clasp, before they'd veered off into teasing and touching and kissing. But if Zhongli's changed his mind, or if he takes it to mean something like Show me what you like so much or show me what you want to do, then Childe certainly won't complain. He's hardly going to be picky about where they go from here.
Zhongli's right, after all. They're not technically in public--and quite frankly, they pay the teahouse staff too well to truly risk any interruptions. The chance of discovery is low enough that they don't need to worry, even if Childe is going to relish this entire encounter and tease him about losing control in public forever.]
[ in whatever stubborn part of zhongli's consciousness, there still existed a sliver of worry. childe had been struggling with his harness before all of this happened. the pain and discomfort might be tolerated more than it would be enjoyed, though childe likely dealt with worse than this before.
but childe is unresisting. he moans softly against his lips as zhongli threads the strap over and under his fingers, and a hot shiver up the back of zhongli's neck. he imagined this sound before, certainly on nights where the two of them crept too closely in one another's space, on the cusp of this Something but still resisting one another's gravity. he imagined that hum against his lips, childe breathing out his name, and—although embarrassingly—how the harness might feel in his unrelenting grip.
maybe someday he would tell childe all of this. right now, childe is drawing him in by his neck and laying his hand on his thigh. the implication that childe's want runs much deeper, that he might want more just as he did, sends a flood of warmth through every limb. he's known for a while that childe was attracted to him. he's caught him in stares, noticed the blush occasionally spreading over his cheeks, seen him hold his breath or swallow thickly when he comes too close. he hadn't foreseen consummating their feelings this way, but both of them take this in stride, happy with anything so long as it meant they could have one another.
childe draws back and zhongli licks his lips and quietly catches his breath. he opens his searing gold eyes and drinks in childe's expression, flushed and wanting, muttering his desire. all at once his greed comes to a head. show me. though he can think of several ways to grant childe's request, zhongli at least registers his logic. he smiles slowly. he can give him what he wants, at the cost of his own devotion to propriety.
it's hard to give that up, but he's never wanted someone this way before. not this badly.
zhongli pushes himself up onto his knees and shifts over to childe as closely as he can. one of his hands sink into childe's hair and grips tightly as if to hold him in place. his other hand closes around strap of his harness and the pulling it tightly, bringing childe nearly flush against him.
show me, his mind repeats. it's the most beautiful phrase he's heard in ages. his voice is a rumble in response. from here, it may be possible to notice the long points of his canines, on the top and bottom rows. ]
As you wish.
[ there would be bloodstains, questions, alarm from the hostesses as they walked out of the building. those can be dealt with later.
he drags childe up against the table behind him and ducks his head down to his collar. he presses a line of kisses to the base of his soft neck—and without warning his teeth sink in, piercing skin. the coppery taste of blood stings into his mouth. he wants to bite his lip, his shoulder, make him cry out. ]
[Zhongli's not wrong to doubt; no matter Childe's likes or preferences, it's not often that he permits a loss of control, the way he's doing now. There are so few people whom he trusts like this, so few that utterly consume his attention, his desires--and in truth, no one holds a candle to the way he feels about Zhongli.
He hadn't anticipated this, hadn't ever really planned to act on the feelings Zhongli rouses within him. But now, with the way Zhongli drags him so much closer--with the taste of Zhongli in his mouth, the hard lines of Zhongli's body against his, he doesn't have any idea how he'd thought he could go the rest of his life with it. The harness chafes awkwardly as Zhongli yanks on it, only halfway loosened, and Childe won't be surprised if he finds that it's cut through his skin by now. But his hiss isn't displeased, and he doesn't flinch back or try to fight Zhongli's grip. He'd asked, after all, and he isn't one to shy away from his own desires without good reason.
Though, really, he almost forgets his own request as soon as he says it, so distracted is he by the sheen of sweat on Zhongli's skin and the way Zhongli's shirt sticks to collarbone. But Zhongli's grip on his hair is too tight to permit him to do anything about it, and then Zhongli's mouthing down his neck, and--
He'd glimpsed those teeth earlier, but, foolishly, he hadn't actually braced himself for anything in particular. So Zhongli, intentionally or otherwise, gets his wish--Childe can't stop himself from crying out when he feels Zhongli's teeth part his flesh so easily, when he feels what can only be his own blood rushing up to meet Zhongli's lips. His own hand has slipped from Zhongli's jaw to his shoulder, and Childe's grip tightens to iron as he lets his head tip back. It's all he can do not to jostle the table and spill their tea, but he's barely focused on their surroundings anymore.
Most people probably wouldn't react this way. But then, if Zhongli minded, he wouldn't have done it in the first place, right?]
[ childe's cry is a shot of adrenaline down through his chest, filling every nerve. his ears ring with it. his shoulder tenses under childe's iron grip as pain presses beneath childe's fingertips. zhongli can imagine dragging childe over the table, pinning his arms above him, kissing him until all of the air leaves his lungs. his fingers tighten in childe's hair as he suppresses the thought.
zhongli slides the flat of his tongue over the weeping teethmarks, the iron tang of blood needling into his mouth. he leans back to meet childe's gaze (if his eyes are still open) with darkened yellow eyes and unabashedly drinks him in, at the same time sliding his hand from the back of his hair to the side of his neck, hot and lightly sticky with sweat. his thumb brushes over his jaw with something like tenderness, as if childe were a priceless, precious object in his hand.
because zhongli has never seen childe this way before—only in stray or private thoughts, when he had only the vague idea of childe looking flushed and breathless the way he does now. his hair is disheveled, and his collar is haphazardly opened to show the bite over his neck. jagged lines of sweat crawl down his chest and disappear underneath his sweat-stained clothes. childe is beautiful beyond words, more than anything zhongli's vivid imagination could conjure. childe is solid and hot and real under his hands, a waking dream that wants him back.
desire claws inside of zhongli's chest. he could do so much more damage and coax out any sound from him, in every size and every octave, but he won't. they've risked their privacy enough already, and if they go any further, it would be that much more difficult to stop.
zhongli's lips spread into a narrow smile. he brings up his other hand, and between his thumb and forefinger is the compact childe had pocketed earlier, glinting in its golden case. ]
I take it that my demonstration sufficed.
[ he murmurs between them. he knocks their noses gently, teasingly close enough to take another kiss. he doesn't. ]
I'm sure the staff of the Tea House would agree after hearing what we've done. ...Perhaps we should depart once I remove your harness.
[It's hardly an attack, but damn if Childe's body doesn't want to react like it is one. His pulse races with adrenaline, and his heart pounds wildly in his chest, just as it might in the midst of an exhilarating battle.
If only it were that simple. If only Zhongli was no more than a fun distraction, someone strong and exciting and, ultimately, easy to compartmentalize. But no one has ever spilled his blood without hesitation only to touch him so sweetly a moment later. No one has ever desired him this way--so willing to let it rest unsaid between them, yet so certain of his choices once the last walls fell away.
Zhongli looks at him with blood on his lips and tenderness in his gaze. How in the world could Childe be anything but utterly obsessed with him?
He stares blankly at the compact, like he's barely registering the significance of its return to Zhongli's possession, or like he barely sees it at all. He feels very much like he can't catch his breath--like Zhongli has his own gravitational mass, and his proximity is crushingly heavy on Childe's heart.
Zhongli is close enough to kiss, again; his shoulder is warm through the fabric of his shirt. Childe stares, unabashed, at Zhongli's lips--his thoughts are very clearly lightyears away. It takes a minute for him to register what Zhongli's saying, then another to actually process it.
Right... the staff are right outside, aren't they. They probably hate him these days, but he has nothing against them--and while he doubts they'd be the first to defile this room, he doesn't particularly want to traumatize them. And maybe he's being presumptuous, but--
Although I wish we were at a more convenient location...
--Zhongli said that himself. Childe thinks a little audacity is warranted, in this case.
His gaze flicks down to his harness, then back up, watching Zhongli through long lashes. They are still so impossibly close--it's a little bit like self-inflicted torture, keeping so still. He has a feeling Zhongli wouldn't stop him, were he to lean in again and throw caution back out to the winds; but whatever Zhongli's thinking about, what he wants, Childe wants that more than instant gratification.
Still, there's a smile in his voice when he speaks again.]
I thought you liked it.
[Does it hurt? Yes, kind of--but Childe thinks that's a minuscule price to pay for the privilege of driving Zhongli to shamelessness and distraction.]
[ childe is only distantly engaged. zhongli can see it in the dull and deep blue of his eyes, both unseeing even as they rest over the compact. there's no reaction from childe aside from the great heaves of his chest and the rabbiting of his pulse under zhongli's palm.
zhongli's smile eases away. it dawns on him that he had done this—he left tartaglia wordlessly pressed against the edge of a table, dazed and wanting and following his mouth. it's a dream manifested, a sight conjured only in zhongli's private ruminations. he's imagined childe in a multitude of ways: a sunbeam smile from the deck of a ship, a hand in his beside the lotus ponds, a midnight shape beneath him in bed. after a seemingly endless wait, these hopes can now be given form.
childe slowly comes to, eyes darting to the harness and back to zhongli, blue beneath the dark crest of his eyelashes. zhongli has heard the smile in childe's voice countless times before. each time affection blooms inside of his chest, stirring his ancient heart. now is no exception. it's all he can do not to steal whatever's left in childe's lungs for himself (although childe might let him if he tries).
instead zhongli smiles back, revealing the glint of his teeth. he lays the compact on the table and holds the back of childe's neck. after lowering their foreheads together, he closes his eyes and speaks in a murmur meant only for him: ]
I do.
[ his fingers slide again beneath the strap, where childe's skin is still wet and burning through his shirt. the strap is still hot across his fingers. he brushes his thumb over his ribs, following a line of wet, gathered tissue—scars and slices where the harness dug into his flesh. he can only imagine how it stings. ]
I have for too long. That isn't worth your discomfort.
[Childe would definitely let him if he tried, it's true. It's hard enough holding himself back, and Childe is so terribly inclined toward indulgence.
It isn't so much Zhongli's hand on his neck that keeps him still; rather, he's transfixed by Zhongli's smile, love and danger inextricably woven together. If he concentrated, he could probably feel traces of blood smeared on his neck, and that combined with the press of Zhongli's forehead to his rouses feelings within him that Childe hadn't known he was still capable of.
(It makes sense, he supposes, that Zhongli wouldn't really be interested in a normal human. But a part of him can't help wondering if Zhongli knows what he's getting into here, with someone like him. But that's a concern for another time.)
Predictably, he makes a dismissive noise, something between a laugh and a scoff.]
I've had a lot worse than a little discomfort, xiansheng. [They both know that's an understatement.] It doesn't bother me.
[It doesn't occur to him that it might bother Zhongli; for his part, he simply assumes that Zhongli's concern for his comfort was just a cover for being distracted and turned on.]
[ that scoff-laugh is a song in his ears. he draws his hand away carefully and rests it on the side of childe's ribs.
his shirt sticks beneath it. how long had he quietly imagined childe's shape, how it would feel under his fingers? ]
It would be foolish to assume you hadn't.
[ this wasn't about childe's endurance. a part of him isn't surprised that childe would give into this simply because zhongli liked it. childe has always been generous, especially to him. ]
[It's--not unexpected, exactly, because Zhongli has always been kinder to him than he deserves. But the sweetness of the sentiment, paired with Zhongli's warm hand at his side, throws him just a little off-kilter. He glances away, touched or embarassed or a little bit of both.
He could insist, just for the sake of being contrary. But he's still kind of reeling from the press of Zhongli's teeth against his neck, and it's difficult to dredge up his usual wit. And, well. The less he argues, the sooner they can get out of here. It's in his best interests to let Zhongli do what he wants.]
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Childe's looked at him enough that he really should be used to it. And really, he kind of is--by now, he can mostly stop himself from staring like every other lovestruck fool in the harbor. But now and then, Zhongli still finds ways to hold him spellbound. When he smiles just so, or turns his face towards the sunset, or says things like I'm glad you're here with devastating sincerity.
He'd known, he'd known this would be one of those moments. But knowing doesn't help, and he finds himself caught anyway.
Gods, he's an idiot. He shouldn't have turned around.
At least Zhongli saw him at the pier, straight off of the ship. He knows, then, that the pink of Childe's skin must come from his time in the sun. That surely, if he looks more flushed now than he did earlier, it's just because they've moved out of direct sunlight. Not for... any other reasons.]
I'm not nervous. [He says, nervously--but it's the truth to the letter, if not in spirit. If Zhongli's teasing him, then Childe will complain to hide his embarrassment, but that's a harmless enough result that he has no reason to be nervous about it. If Zhongli's not teasing...
...Well. He doesn't actually know what he'll do then. But that's why it's only a half-truth.
His pulse betrays him anyway, rabbit-fast and impossible to hide when Zhongli's fingers are so close to his heart. "Still too warm"? Hah. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised to hear the ice on Dragonspine has melted away.
Keep still, Zhongli says, but it's an unnecessary warning. Childe isn't sure he could move even if he wanted to.]
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has childe ever asked himself if zhongli shared this sort of friendship with anyone else? how often he shares his promenades and meals and drinks with any others, compared to him? if the quiet suggestions of intimate affection were words he offered to someone else? if not, they may be questions worth parsing out. if he had, and if he'd decided that his presence was a minnow in a great sea of zhongli's memory, he's deluding himself.
he saw how the sun painted a flush on the high points of childe's face. that redness sunk even deeper now. zhongli can't deny the possibility that it may be because they're out of the sun, but there was just as much of a chance that it meant something else. the look in childe's eye and the rabbiting pulse in his chest told him otherwise.
"otherwise" could mean that childe wanted him. he isn't resisting his zhongli pulls on the front of his strap, or his fingers brushing against the muscled curve of his chest. zhongli's nerves jump to meet every movement and touch against damp skin. maybe childe should strip altogether.
ah. so zhongli wanted him too.
there's a brief smile when childe insists he's all right. zhongli is leaning in to bite, lip peeling back to expose his teeth: normal aside from the sharpened pairs of canines, a scant few centimeters from the crowns of his other teeth, easy enough to hide. he stops just short of the buckle and raises his head to face childe again.
he studied him carefully, smile falling. his fingertips slide against the underside of the belt and stop just under the pulse of his heart. he feigns gentle concern. ]
Your heart is beating fast.
[ one hand slips free and lightly touches his fingertips to childe's cheek. his free hand still holds the strap away from childe's chest, arguably keeping him tethered and close. he runs his thumb over the pink flush over his cheekbone, seemingly benign to his reactions. ]
You also seem to be burned here. I have a salve from Inazuma to treat this, if that interests you.
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He must. Childe has his blind spots, yes, but he isn't a complete idiot--there's no way Zhongli isn't aware of what he's doing, not when he so easily calls attention to Childe's racing pulse and flushed skin. He's got to be doing this on purpose, but the very idea seems impossible.
It's true that he's never given much thought to Zhongli's potential other companions. That he hadn't assumed anything they did was particularly notable to Zhongli, not like it was to Childe. They'd been dancing around the precipice of something before the truth came out, but that didn't necessarily mean Zhongli treated him any differently than anyone else he was fond of.
At least, that's what he'd thought. But now, Zhongli is--is undeniably flirting with him, no matter how wrong it feels to ascribe such a term to Zhongli, a man who seems untouchable even to a person like Childe. He can't possibly not be doing this on purpose, right? He's seen Childe's reactions for what they were, and chosen to move closer to him instead of steering them away towards a safe, professional distance.
...Or maybe he's just reading too much into it. Maybe he's seeing what he wants to see, tempted evermore by the most dangerous path he can find. It wouldn't be unlike him.
So few people are capable of flustering him. He would feel ridiculous, staring at Zhongli like a wide-eyed schoolboy the way he is, but he hardly even notices his own expression when he's so distracted by Zhongli. There are too many possible revelations happening in short succession, he doesn't know where to start.]
Uh. [Right. He should speak. Or do anything at all to get his thoughts to move beyond Zhongli's fingers are so long.
Stupidly:] Here?
[Why would he have it here, Childe]
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he doesn't. ]
Yes.
[ surprise. actually he has a pretty good reason to have that salve on him. he slips his hand from childe's cheek and turns to fish something from his pocket. reluctantly—though childe wouldn't know it—his fingers also unhook from around the strap on his chest.
in his hand, he holds a thin, circular metal tin, no bigger than the divot in the center of his palm. he opens it and reveals the inside: soft and waxy with a blue tint, lightly melted along the circular edge. ]
This mixture made from cocoa butter, sea ganoderma extract, and the crushed rind of an amakumo fruit, among other natural ingredients. It can be used for healing burns and dry skin. It also acts as a sun protectant.
[ maybe a normal person would offer it for the other person to put on. put zhongli is dipping two fingers in, running circles until the pads of his fingertips are coated. ]
It appears sheer on the skin after application. The blue is extremely faint and imperceptible.
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He doesn't move away. He doesn't move closer either, but then again, there isn't much room between them. His eyes track the motion of Zhongli's fingertips, but he looks away quickly, lest he get distracted by inappropriate daydreams. Celestia knows his thoughts can't be trusted right now.
Granted, not that his second choice is much easier on his heart. His gaze flicks up to Zhongli's face, as if searching for evidence of the balm on Zhongli's skin even though Zhongli had just said it wasn't that visible. Is it at least partially an excuse just to look at him while he's so close? Maybe. But maybe he's searching for other things while he's at it--hints of mischief in Zhongli's eyes, for instance, or any other possible cracks in his facade. Anything to let him know what Zhongli might be thinking, that might help him navigate this unfamiliar path they've wandered onto.
Still, even with his focus elsewhere, he has it in him to smirk in amusement.]
And just how did you pay for that, huh? [It's a joke, playful and good-natured, but one he can't resist when the opportunity is right there.] Don't tell me the poor ferrylady is still handling your bills.
[If that woman isn't at least halfway in love with Zhongli, Childe will eat his scarf. Not that he pays attention to that or anything.]
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[ from the ferry lady. but childe doesn't have to know that unless he asks. ]
I have no need for such things, even in my current vessel. However, it would be a waste not to find use for a kind gesture. It seems that it provides a dose of moisture to the lips.
[ 😌
anyway, this answers the question of whether or not childe can see evidence of it on his face: there is none, only a sheen of sweat and a collected countenance. if he was flirting at all, he seems unaware, all of his actions measured and precise, based on the circumstances.
this doesn't mean that he doesn't know how to flirt, though. you learn a thing or two when you've been alive as long as he has. he had sometimes been acutely aware of childe's attraction to him, almost purposely provoking in little gestures and sincere words. only now was it coming to a head, when zhongli finally came close enough to feel his pulse, mouth inches from his chest. it made zhongli's old heart beat up against his breast.
his eyes raise up to childe's, calm and reserved. there's not a crack.
he raises his fingers to one of childe's burning cheeks. his focus is centered on his cheekbone, but he's attentive to all things in his periphery. ]
I must ask you to hold still once more.
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Predictably, Childe walks straight into the trap and lets his eyes drop to Zhongli's lips. He lingers for a moment, two, his expression blank--he's had a lot of practice keeping his thoughts off of his face, after all. It's meeting Zhongli's gaze again that's harder--something in those Cor Lapis eyes always makes him feel so utterly seen, as if there's nothing at all he could do to stop Zhongli from understanding every part of him with a single look.
Ugh. Archons.
...Would that be so bad, though? He's wondered that before. Right now, with Zhongli's fingertips inches away from his skin, he's seeing a compelling argument in favor of letting himself be known.
His face is still flushed, heart still pounding in his chest, but his eyes remain fixed on Zhongli's face, abandoning any pretense of trying not to stare. When he nods in acquiescence, it's so minute that it wouldn't have been noticeable with any kind of distance between them--good thing there isn't any.]
no subject
if only childe didn't look the way he does. if only he didn't seem to weaken when zhongli sets the balm onto the floor beside them and takes his chin between his fingers, holding him steady. he holds childe's deep blue gaze, drawn to him like a pinpoint of light and seeing nothing else.
he knows this deep flush isn't a sunburn. the way his eyes fall half-lidded and searches between childe's finally makes that obvious. he's irresistible this way. zhongli watched those orange strands of hair streaked gold with sunlight, mouth pulled from beaming smile to dissatisfied line, the stifled hunger that belies the curiosity and levity, every facet of him as fascinating and alluring as the next. ]
Mm. This may do more good here.
[ his eyes fall to childe's mouth. his fingers reach and slowly slide the balm over his lower lip. he takes in its softness, watches the drag of it, watching the shine that follows. he and childe are still so close.
he had endured those belts around childe's ribcage for long enough. despite knowing better, everything zhongli does now is a small act of revenge. ]
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He's making use of those skills now, and he doesn't try to hide it. His eyes are dark with unspoken attraction, matching his blush and his heartbeat, but he ignores the giveaways of his own body in favor of searching Zhongli's face. He watches like a hawk, assessing every move Zhongli makes as closely as he would an opponent on the battlefield.
It's highly possible that Zhongli is teasing him still. He won't discount that possibility. But Zhongli looks very much like how Childe feels right now, if he's honest with himself. He watches Zhongli watching his lips, enraptured, as if even an act of divine might beside them couldn't tear his attention away. And if he's not teasing, then it means... Zhongli looked at the gap between them and found it unacceptable. For whatever reason, it means Zhongli's chosen here and now to return them to that precipice and take the first step over the edge.
It feels unbelievable, but at the same time, it makes sense. Right now, Zhongli looks like he's knowingly walked into something dangerous for the thrill of it, and now he's got to reckon with the consequences. That is a feeling Childe knows all too well.
He wonders what Zhongli would do if Childe caught his finger with his teeth. If he were to grab Zhongli's wrist and wrench it away, to drag Zhongli forward and taste the tea on his tongue.
(He wonders if Zhongli would stop him if he tried to get up and walk away. He suspects Zhongli would. And that's...)
There are a hundred reasons he shouldn't tear down this last wall between them. No matter how paper-thin it is, no matter how badly he wants to--even with his senses overrun by Zhongli, a part of him is still acutely aware of why this would be a bad idea. It would be terribly dangerous to indulge like this.
How unfortunate, then, that there's nothing Childe craves more than the knife's edge.
This close, it'll be impossible to miss the moment Childe comes to a decision. The slow, small, upward quirk of his lips. The glint of mischief in his eyes, aroused by Zhongli's behavior--practically shameless, as far as Zhongli goes. Regardless of Zhongli's initial intentions, it seems he's chosen to take this as a playful challenge. To meet Zhongli head-to-head, and either call his bluff, or... see what happens if he doesn't.
How very Childe of him.
True to his word, he holds very still. He lets Zhongli run the balm along his lip without comment, though he never takes his eyes off of Zhongli's face. Eventually, in a murmur that sounds far too satisfied for someone who has no upper hand to speak of--]
You missed a spot.
[He definitely didn't.]
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but it doesn't take a god for anyone to notice the way that interest and elation seeps into childe's countenance. his smile is almost a sneer, and his once-apprehensive eyes are shining with absorption and interest. he's caught on. there's no way for zhongli to back out of this—and maybe he hadn't want to.
his stomach lurches, hot and pleasant. whatever comes next is unpredictable, an engrossing thought in itself. childe sounds satisfied when he finally speaks, and zhongli's feels intrigue and a bit of disappointment and overbearing attraction all at once.
how long had he wanted childe? did he know that he ached for him this badly? and what would he get out of this, other than the satisfaction of knowing that childe wanted him as much as he seemed to, and he was willing to fight to have him.
he doesn't bother hiding it anymore. zhongli's eyes flicker back to meet his, the color of a stormy sea. zhongli draws his hand back in front of him, but he keeps childe's hand propped in his fingers.
he slowly smiles. there's a challenge in his eyes. ]
Oh? Tell me where.
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Right here.
[Finally, he moves--but he reaches out towards Zhongli instead of towards himself, tapping his finger lightly, just once, against Zhongli's lips. Then, quick as lightning and without breaking eye contact, he lets his fingers dart down and swipe the tin of balm from Zhongli's hand. His smile grows into that playful expression Zhongli's seen on his face so many times, but there's an edge to it now, something bolder and more daring. The sort of smile that says he's looked at the risk involved here and found it incapable of deterring him.
It's a gamble--Zhongli could just take the tin back. He could ignore, or misunderstand, what Childe's boldly daring him to do. He could decide that he doesn't want to do anything scandalous, even something as small as a kiss, in public (not that they're in view of other people, really, but still). But if Zhongli chooses to pull away, to end this game, well--you can't miss what you don't know, right? So it'd be fine. He guesses.]
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so zhongli is careful not to give too much of himself away at once. he softens his mouth the moment before childe touches his bare fingertip to his lips. he doesn't startle when childe snatches the salve from his palm, eyes still fixed on him—as if childe hadn't stolen the tin away. zhongli merely let him take it.
that playful, irresistible smile is so close. it would be so easy to crane his neck forward, sink his hands through childe's damp hair, skim their lips, dare him to do more.
instead, his eyes flicker down only to gently slide his finger beneath the belt around childe's ribs, right at the middle of his chest. he does not pull him, only anchors him there, gently straining it against his back. his sharp, golden eyes slide back to him, marbled like gemstones, incandescent.
he murmurs: ]
Go ahead.
the way I wrote this whole tag and then closed my browser and lost it
Zhongli's reaction both delights and irritates him in equal measure. He narrows his eyes--picking up on how easily Zhongli let him take the tin--but he's mollified by what follows, the low tone and the clear encouragement.
He doesn't understand why this is happening now, of all times. He hasn't done or said anything significant, he isn't embarking on a particularly dangerous mission (though he had mentioned the search for Scaramouche). But whatever the reason, he supposes it doesn't matter much; Zhongli is daring him to act, and he intends to follow through.
He slips the tin into his own pocket; it's unnecessary now. Despite the gentle touch Zhongli uses, the slight shift of his harness rubs against already-chafed skin, but he ignores the pain. Still, he glances down out of reflex--and pauses.
His clothes, the only thing different about him today. The way Zhongli hadn't been able to keep his eyes on Childe's face as they'd spoken. The fact that Zhongli's the one who brought up his discomfort. Childe had assumed it was just concern for a friend, but could it be...
Did Zhongli just. Fall victim to the classic mortal blunder of being distracted by something he found attractive?!
Oh. Oh. This is the best day of Childe's life.
It's clear as day when he comes to his realization--when he lifts his head, the sunlight catches his eyes, illuminating his smug grin.]
Xiansheng. [He speaks quietly, but he's so clearly delighted by the revelation he's just had.] In public? I didn't think you had it in you.
[He'd intended to play up the balm ruse--to close the small distance between them once and for all under the guise of passing moisture from his lips to Zhongli's. And indeed, he still wants to. Now, perhaps, even more than he did just a moment ago. But he can't pass this opportunity up.]
NOOO THE WORST
if only childe's wild eyes weren't so exhilarating. if only zhongli didn't feel that inward shiver with childe so close to him, muttering quietly, grinning with that beautiful, soft, giving mouth. zhongli remembers it under his fingertips.
there will be no more of that balm, then.
zhongli's delicate smile mutes only slightly. he drops his gaze to the belt, running his thumb over the leather, first finger still hooked underneath it. he still holds childe's chin in his hand, keeping it level with his. ]
We are not public, as there are no witnesses about us. Although I wish we were at a more convenient location...
[ he doesn't seem to be bothered that he gave himself away. he had been calculated in his execution, although it had technically been childe and his harness who instigated it in the first place.
his smile falters entirely, his head finally canting as he leans towards him. the anchor at childe's harness pulls gently, bring him slightly forward to meet him. his molten eyes narrow. he can feel his breath. ]
What will you do now?
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He can't help letting his thoughts run wild for a moment, caught up in the idea of what a "more convenient" location would mean. It's incredibly tempting to offer--but if he suggests they move, then Zhongli will have to let go and move away so that they can get up and leave, and he doesn't want that. Oh, what a dilemma.
Well, that can be something for later Childe to think about. For now, he lifts a hand to curl long fingers over Zhongli's wrist as he closes the distance even further, until he's practically speaking into Zhongli's mouth--his words felt more than heard. He lowers his voice to a murmur, but he still sounds far too pleased; it's the kind of tone that indicates he's never going to let Zhongli forget this, even if Zhongli isn't embarrassed by it.]
Well, I can't let your generous gift go to waste, can I?
[There's no point in a warning, or in asking Zhongli for permission that he clearly already has. So Childe doesn't bother, simply tilting his head to finally, finally slot their mouths together. Under other circumstances, this might've been nerve-wracking. Maybe it's the heat skewing his judgment, or maybe he's drunk off of the gleam of desire in Zhongli's beautiful eyes; whatever the reason, it doesn't feel nearly as delicate as it could have. It doesn't feel anything other than right.
One of them should probably care about getting caught. But it sure isn't going to be Childe.]
no subject
this could have been something slower, more refined and calculated, a gradual pull together and a lock in place. they could have been somewhere with more atmosphere: high up mount tianheng while watching the sunrise, or on a red terrace overlooking the port at midnight. maybe zhongli wouldn't have had to say anything at all; the way they'd look at one another and finally, gently meet their lips might have said enough.
there will be other opportunities, he thinks. the evidence of their feelings had piled dangerously high before now, a breath away from toppling, and childe didn't seem the type to easily change his mind.
childe's words graze warmly against his lips. a shiver rolls down zhongli's neck as he slowly smiles and finally closes his iridescent eyes. thoughts about the balm are filed away for later; there are more pressing things at hand, and there are ways to steal it back.
childe kisses him deeply and greedily, the way zhongli imagined he might. zhongli is solid and steady against it, slowly guiding their mouths closed and open again, want rippling through each kiss. he smooths his hand over childe's chest, weaving the strap over and beneath his fingers; childe's pulse leaps to meet him, hot skin and sweat seeping through his shirt. he licks into childe's mouth, sighing softly as their tongues slip against each other. it's a brushfire through his body.
they'll have to stop eventually, but now is too soon for how long he's wanted this. ]
no subject
Childe likes this, though. Not just because he's unintentionally riled Zhongli up enough that he's chosen to throw caution to the wind--even if that, too, will buoy his mood for weeks. But it's more that there's something beautifully honest about the two of them coming together in this way. No significant arrangements, no monumental gestures--just a natural progression, as if they've been doing this all along. As if they'd dropped a thread they were already holding, and they were simply waiting for the right moment to pick it up.
Zhongli's fingers slip between the strap and his skin, and Childe makes a soft sound when it pulls against his tender skin, unable to help himself. Suddenly, it's unacceptable that he's not touching Zhongli, and his fingers flex with conflicted desire. He wants to pull Zhongli closer, into his lap--he wants to shove everything off of the table, or even drag them both onto the floor. He'll figure that out soon enough. For now, though, he finally reaches out to put his hands on Zhongli, resting one just below his jaw and the other on his thigh. Ostensibly, it's for balance as he leans close. Truthfully, it's just because he's feeling extremely bold right now.
Not once has Childe ever thought about his harness outside of it's practical uses. Now he'll never be able to wear it without thinking about how much Zhongli apparently likes it. Gods.
He parts his lips for Zhongli, warm and inviting. He savors the taste of him; dimly, he knows he should probably care more about who, what, Zhongli actually is, but right now, it doesn't seem important.
(That's what makes Zhongli so dangerous, really. It's so easy to love him as just... Zhongli.)
He pulls back, breathing heavily. It's so, so warm, in a way that has nothing to do with the weather.]
Show me.
[He's thinking of Zhongli's offer from earlier--to prove exactly how he'd broken the other clasp, before they'd veered off into teasing and touching and kissing. But if Zhongli's changed his mind, or if he takes it to mean something like Show me what you like so much or show me what you want to do, then Childe certainly won't complain. He's hardly going to be picky about where they go from here.
Zhongli's right, after all. They're not technically in public--and quite frankly, they pay the teahouse staff too well to truly risk any interruptions. The chance of discovery is low enough that they don't need to worry, even if Childe is going to relish this entire encounter and tease him about losing control in public forever.]
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but childe is unresisting. he moans softly against his lips as zhongli threads the strap over and under his fingers, and a hot shiver up the back of zhongli's neck. he imagined this sound before, certainly on nights where the two of them crept too closely in one another's space, on the cusp of this Something but still resisting one another's gravity. he imagined that hum against his lips, childe breathing out his name, and—although embarrassingly—how the harness might feel in his unrelenting grip.
maybe someday he would tell childe all of this. right now, childe is drawing him in by his neck and laying his hand on his thigh. the implication that childe's want runs much deeper, that he might want more just as he did, sends a flood of warmth through every limb. he's known for a while that childe was attracted to him. he's caught him in stares, noticed the blush occasionally spreading over his cheeks, seen him hold his breath or swallow thickly when he comes too close. he hadn't foreseen consummating their feelings this way, but both of them take this in stride, happy with anything so long as it meant they could have one another.
childe draws back and zhongli licks his lips and quietly catches his breath. he opens his searing gold eyes and drinks in childe's expression, flushed and wanting, muttering his desire. all at once his greed comes to a head. show me. though he can think of several ways to grant childe's request, zhongli at least registers his logic. he smiles slowly. he can give him what he wants, at the cost of his own devotion to propriety.
it's hard to give that up, but he's never wanted someone this way before. not this badly.
zhongli pushes himself up onto his knees and shifts over to childe as closely as he can. one of his hands sink into childe's hair and grips tightly as if to hold him in place. his other hand closes around strap of his harness and the pulling it tightly, bringing childe nearly flush against him.
show me, his mind repeats. it's the most beautiful phrase he's heard in ages. his voice is a rumble in response. from here, it may be possible to notice the long points of his canines, on the top and bottom rows. ]
As you wish.
[ there would be bloodstains, questions, alarm from the hostesses as they walked out of the building. those can be dealt with later.
he drags childe up against the table behind him and ducks his head down to his collar. he presses a line of kisses to the base of his soft neck—and without warning his teeth sink in, piercing skin. the coppery taste of blood stings into his mouth. he wants to bite his lip, his shoulder, make him cry out. ]
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He hadn't anticipated this, hadn't ever really planned to act on the feelings Zhongli rouses within him. But now, with the way Zhongli drags him so much closer--with the taste of Zhongli in his mouth, the hard lines of Zhongli's body against his, he doesn't have any idea how he'd thought he could go the rest of his life with it. The harness chafes awkwardly as Zhongli yanks on it, only halfway loosened, and Childe won't be surprised if he finds that it's cut through his skin by now. But his hiss isn't displeased, and he doesn't flinch back or try to fight Zhongli's grip. He'd asked, after all, and he isn't one to shy away from his own desires without good reason.
Though, really, he almost forgets his own request as soon as he says it, so distracted is he by the sheen of sweat on Zhongli's skin and the way Zhongli's shirt sticks to collarbone. But Zhongli's grip on his hair is too tight to permit him to do anything about it, and then Zhongli's mouthing down his neck, and--
He'd glimpsed those teeth earlier, but, foolishly, he hadn't actually braced himself for anything in particular. So Zhongli, intentionally or otherwise, gets his wish--Childe can't stop himself from crying out when he feels Zhongli's teeth part his flesh so easily, when he feels what can only be his own blood rushing up to meet Zhongli's lips. His own hand has slipped from Zhongli's jaw to his shoulder, and Childe's grip tightens to iron as he lets his head tip back. It's all he can do not to jostle the table and spill their tea, but he's barely focused on their surroundings anymore.
Most people probably wouldn't react this way. But then, if Zhongli minded, he wouldn't have done it in the first place, right?]
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zhongli slides the flat of his tongue over the weeping teethmarks, the iron tang of blood needling into his mouth. he leans back to meet childe's gaze (if his eyes are still open) with darkened yellow eyes and unabashedly drinks him in, at the same time sliding his hand from the back of his hair to the side of his neck, hot and lightly sticky with sweat. his thumb brushes over his jaw with something like tenderness, as if childe were a priceless, precious object in his hand.
because zhongli has never seen childe this way before—only in stray or private thoughts, when he had only the vague idea of childe looking flushed and breathless the way he does now. his hair is disheveled, and his collar is haphazardly opened to show the bite over his neck. jagged lines of sweat crawl down his chest and disappear underneath his sweat-stained clothes. childe is beautiful beyond words, more than anything zhongli's vivid imagination could conjure. childe is solid and hot and real under his hands, a waking dream that wants him back.
desire claws inside of zhongli's chest. he could do so much more damage and coax out any sound from him, in every size and every octave, but he won't. they've risked their privacy enough already, and if they go any further, it would be that much more difficult to stop.
zhongli's lips spread into a narrow smile. he brings up his other hand, and between his thumb and forefinger is the compact childe had pocketed earlier, glinting in its golden case. ]
I take it that my demonstration sufficed.
[ he murmurs between them. he knocks their noses gently, teasingly close enough to take another kiss. he doesn't. ]
I'm sure the staff of the Tea House would agree after hearing what we've done. ...Perhaps we should depart once I remove your harness.
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If only it were that simple. If only Zhongli was no more than a fun distraction, someone strong and exciting and, ultimately, easy to compartmentalize. But no one has ever spilled his blood without hesitation only to touch him so sweetly a moment later. No one has ever desired him this way--so willing to let it rest unsaid between them, yet so certain of his choices once the last walls fell away.
Zhongli looks at him with blood on his lips and tenderness in his gaze. How in the world could Childe be anything but utterly obsessed with him?
He stares blankly at the compact, like he's barely registering the significance of its return to Zhongli's possession, or like he barely sees it at all. He feels very much like he can't catch his breath--like Zhongli has his own gravitational mass, and his proximity is crushingly heavy on Childe's heart.
Zhongli is close enough to kiss, again; his shoulder is warm through the fabric of his shirt. Childe stares, unabashed, at Zhongli's lips--his thoughts are very clearly lightyears away. It takes a minute for him to register what Zhongli's saying, then another to actually process it.
Right... the staff are right outside, aren't they. They probably hate him these days, but he has nothing against them--and while he doubts they'd be the first to defile this room, he doesn't particularly want to traumatize them. And maybe he's being presumptuous, but--
Although I wish we were at a more convenient location...
--Zhongli said that himself. Childe thinks a little audacity is warranted, in this case.
His gaze flicks down to his harness, then back up, watching Zhongli through long lashes. They are still so impossibly close--it's a little bit like self-inflicted torture, keeping so still. He has a feeling Zhongli wouldn't stop him, were he to lean in again and throw caution back out to the winds; but whatever Zhongli's thinking about, what he wants, Childe wants that more than instant gratification.
Still, there's a smile in his voice when he speaks again.]
I thought you liked it.
[Does it hurt? Yes, kind of--but Childe thinks that's a minuscule price to pay for the privilege of driving Zhongli to shamelessness and distraction.]
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zhongli's smile eases away. it dawns on him that he had done this—he left tartaglia wordlessly pressed against the edge of a table, dazed and wanting and following his mouth. it's a dream manifested, a sight conjured only in zhongli's private ruminations. he's imagined childe in a multitude of ways: a sunbeam smile from the deck of a ship, a hand in his beside the lotus ponds, a midnight shape beneath him in bed. after a seemingly endless wait, these hopes can now be given form.
childe slowly comes to, eyes darting to the harness and back to zhongli, blue beneath the dark crest of his eyelashes. zhongli has heard the smile in childe's voice countless times before. each time affection blooms inside of his chest, stirring his ancient heart. now is no exception. it's all he can do not to steal whatever's left in childe's lungs for himself (although childe might let him if he tries).
instead zhongli smiles back, revealing the glint of his teeth. he lays the compact on the table and holds the back of childe's neck. after lowering their foreheads together, he closes his eyes and speaks in a murmur meant only for him: ]
I do.
[ his fingers slide again beneath the strap, where childe's skin is still wet and burning through his shirt. the strap is still hot across his fingers. he brushes his thumb over his ribs, following a line of wet, gathered tissue—scars and slices where the harness dug into his flesh. he can only imagine how it stings. ]
I have for too long. That isn't worth your discomfort.
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It isn't so much Zhongli's hand on his neck that keeps him still; rather, he's transfixed by Zhongli's smile, love and danger inextricably woven together. If he concentrated, he could probably feel traces of blood smeared on his neck, and that combined with the press of Zhongli's forehead to his rouses feelings within him that Childe hadn't known he was still capable of.
(It makes sense, he supposes, that Zhongli wouldn't really be interested in a normal human. But a part of him can't help wondering if Zhongli knows what he's getting into here, with someone like him. But that's a concern for another time.)
Predictably, he makes a dismissive noise, something between a laugh and a scoff.]
I've had a lot worse than a little discomfort, xiansheng. [They both know that's an understatement.] It doesn't bother me.
[It doesn't occur to him that it might bother Zhongli; for his part, he simply assumes that Zhongli's concern for his comfort was just a cover for being distracted and turned on.]
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his shirt sticks beneath it. how long had he quietly imagined childe's shape, how it would feel under his fingers? ]
It would be foolish to assume you hadn't.
[ this wasn't about childe's endurance. a part of him isn't surprised that childe would give into this simply because zhongli liked it. childe has always been generous, especially to him. ]
I do not wish to cause you any more undue pain.
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He could insist, just for the sake of being contrary. But he's still kind of reeling from the press of Zhongli's teeth against his neck, and it's difficult to dredge up his usual wit. And, well. The less he argues, the sooner they can get out of here. It's in his best interests to let Zhongli do what he wants.]
Alright, if you insist.
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we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight