[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.]
[ zhongli leans his forehead away from childe's. when he opens his eyes again, childe is still-half dazed in front of him, eyes dark and clothes disheveled. a flush of pink is gathering around the bite mark on his neck.
zhongli could be unceremonious about this. in one smooth movement, he could lean down, bite and snap open the buckle, and finally unravel the harness. they could tuck the thing away in one of their folded coats, button childe's shirt, and be on their way—to childe's room or his own would be quickly decided. that would be the most sensible outcome.
instead, zhongli is silent for a moment as he searches childe's face. there's a rush in the center of his chest—one that crops up only in dire circumstances. the last time he felt this was at the final rite of descension, when rex lapis's flight gave way and the exuvia careened into liyue harbor.
there is little that excites an ancient god. childe is one of these exceptions. he was the one who recommended leaving, and suddenly he's grappling with it, enamored. what if they did defile the room? was it worth sacrificing the look on childe's face? the way his lightless eyes saw only him? he would never normally think this way.
he lowers his eyes to the remaining straps. he leans down to bring his mouth to the metal fastener, but he pauses midway. as he grasps the strap in first fingers and thumbs, he closes his eyes and presses an open-mouthed kiss over the center of childe's chest between his open collar. he pulls gently at the harness before he closes his teeth over the metal and snaps it open. ]
Edited (SORRY the harness kiss was way too much) 2022-11-09 13:56 (UTC)
[Zhongli, Childe knows, is a patient man. Childe is meticulous and careful where it counts, sure, but he's got nothing on the amount of time and care Zhongli puts into everything he does.
This, however, is not that. This, just like his little tricks with the lip balm, is Zhongli teasing him--whether he's doing it on purpose or not. The other strap finally loosens, but Childe doesn't shiver because of the relief it grants his skin; rather, it's Zhongli's lips, warm on his already overheated skin, that has him making a soft sound low in his throat.]
You're killing me. [Muttered, but lacking heat. Somehow, his fingers have drifted from Zhongli's shoulder into his hair; Childe tries, and fails, not to get distracted by how soft it is.] Come on, let's get out of here.
[ childe's soft groan echoes in his chest, buzzing gently against zhongli's lips. he's imagined these bare hands carded in his hair, the slight tug of damp palms running against his roots. it would be easy to hold childe by his ribs, ease him closer, trace every inch of skin with his mouth, but childe rightfully steers them away.
zhongli draws back, peeling the harness away completely. he resists bringing childe in for another kiss, setting him instead with half-lidded golden eyes, still wanting. he closes a button on childe's shirt and smooths his collar. they'll need to wipe that bite before they leave.
he murmurs, smiling: ] All right.
[ timeskip timeskip childe wears his jacket over his shoulders and they quickly pay the bill to the confusion of the hostesses. unless childe tugs them off elsewhere, zhongli leads him to his nearby residence. zhongli stays quiet, as if speaking would sever whatever finally flourished between them in the tea house. his key has already been fished out into his hand. ]
[TIMESKIP TIMESKIP. It's tough to act (more-or-less) natural when they return to the public eye, but Childe is nothing if not a professional, and Zhongli--well. Zhongli perfected the art of nonchalance centuries ago, Childe is sure. As long as Childe doesn't look directly at him, everything will be fine.
(If he were to look, he's not sure he could keep his desire off of his face. And even though Childe's hardly the sort to be easily blackmailed, old habits die hard.)
He will not tug them off elsewhere, tempting as the thought may be. The heat, still ridiculously oppressive, actually works in their favor this time--Childe is far too eager to take refuge indoors to cause much mischief on the way. Zhongli's place isn't far, but that doesn't much matter for a native Snezhnayan. By the time they arrive, Childe's wilting again; he can't resist the urge to slump against Zhongli's shoulder with a quiet laugh.]
I have to admit, this isn't quite how I thought this would go.
[Which is... something he would have never admitted to thinking about, had this never transpired between them. He hadn't let his fantasies run too wild, of course--but it would be a lie to claim he'd never noticed their mutual attraction, that he'd never let his thoughts wander in the dead of night.
Of course, he hadn't pictured himself drenched in sweat from the weather like this, his skin still gently stinging from the mild injuries inflicted by his harness (and Zhongli's teeth). SURELY THIS IS NOT SUAVE AND SEXY... TCH... trust Zhongli to make a move when Childe's off his game. (He has no game.) Open the door before your shiny new boyfriend becomes a puddle on the floor, Zhongli]
[ zhongli's not ignorant to childe melting like a wax figure beside him. he can only lead them there quickly, ignoring his own discomfort and the lingering, phantom feelings of childe's mouth against his, his hand on his thigh, his gasps against his ear. definitely ignoring that. just like he's pointedly not looking lower than childe's face. or at the dots of red just above his shirt collar. unfortunately being sweaty and gameless and un-suave is exactly what zhongli is into.
childe leans against him. at any other time, this would have been a friendly gesture, cute but unassuming. now, he can't help noticing the sweat sticking and seeping between their clothes, how childe's skin still feels hot underneath his shirt.
he glances at him and smiles as he unlocks the door. he's always liked his laugh. ]
I had the same thought. I'm curious as to what you might have imagined.
[ he tucks away his key and opens the door. he steps aside from it, gesturing inside. ]
Please.
[ go ahead and imagine what zhongli's home would look like bc we talked about it. in general it's a small space, meticulously furnished and decorated. the blinds on the windows have been drawn, leaving only strips of yellow-orange light against darkwood floors. the best part: it's shaded and cool inside. once childe's in, he'll lock the door behind him and move to turn on the lamps and candles. ]
Which is to say, despite his slightly pathetic appearance, he at least still has the energy to tease. Typical. But he slips inside without complaint--he even remembers to toe off his shoes in the entryway.
He discards his jacket immediately, too, unpeeling it and hanging it neatly to the side. What a housewife. After that, though, he lingers, watching Zhongli with something like quiet anticipation.
It isn't awkwardness or hesitation that keeps him still; rather, given a moment to rest and recuperate, Childe can't help but feel a charge in the air once again. The few times he'd visited in the past, Zhongli's home always felt like a respite--somewhere they could, he'd thought, lay down the burdens of their identities and simply coexist as not-quite-more-than-friends.
Now, of course, he knows that there was little truth to that outside of his own wistful thinking. If he'd returned here under different circumstances, the thought would have been sobering and dampened his mood. But with everything that transpired between them at the restaurant, it's difficult to summon up such feelings. And Childe, rarely one to dwell on grudges, doesn't particularly want to.
They have a lot to talk about, he knows. But right now, with his skin cooling to a much more bearable level of warmth and the soft lights bathing Zhongli in a golden glow, Childe doesn't want to talk at all.
So, after Zhongli lights up the room, Childe makes his way back over to him. He catches Zhongli's hand in his own, tugging slightly; wordless encouragement. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of Zhongli--at ease, yet just as beautiful as always--but he doesn't close the space between them; this time, he leaves that up to Zhongli.]
[ the lights are lit, shoes emptied. zhongli's coats are hung beside childe's, and his gloves and other items are carefully deposited in a stone dish on one of the tables. among them is the leather harness with its broken metal rings, carefully laid on top of the pile.
he can feel childe's eyes on his back. the reason why they've arrived still suffuses everything. it's the current that pulls them together, promising that they both wanted this, and there was no sense in waiting any longer for it. it feels impossible to ignore.
there was a period of time where zhongli hadn't known if childe would return to liyue. osial was defeated at the expense of the jade chamber, the qixing assumed governance over liyue, and zhongli's bargain with the tsaritsa was properly executed. there was no reason for childe to stay in liyue other than to oversee continued operations at the northland bank if needed. when zhongli attempted to approach him, he seemed bitter—something only a person who knew him well might be able to discern.
zhongli's heart was leaden in his chest. he always paid the price of remembering. he couldn't forget the feeling of cultivating his first relationships as a human, when they knew him only as zhongli. it's especially impossible when the tension between you and your new friend is magnetic and relentless, palpable between every lingering look and brush of their hands and shoulders.
childe returned to him. his feelings quickly blossomed again, more relentless than before. and now they're here.
he searches childe's lightless eyes, rapt with affection and awe. zhongli tightens his grip on childe's hand and takes a step closer. he slides the fingertips of his free hand across childe's cheek, over his ear, into the back of his hair. it feels damp over his scalp, the strands sleek between his fingers. he tips his head, closes his eyes, and leans forward to kiss childe deeply on his beautiful mouth.
he feels weightless again, longing filling him like air. he deepens their kiss even further, breathing in sharply. he'll move them away in a moment. he needs this first. ]
[It's the easiest thing in the world to open up for Zhongli. The kiss is a slow, heady--a pace that matches the syrupy heat they'd escaped from. Childe parts his lips willingly, his hands falling to rest on Zhongli's hips, thumbs slowly and lazily easing up beneath Zhongli's shirt. One kiss becomes two, then three, until it's useless to try and keep track. Childe can't resist the urge to nip at Zhongli's lip, to chase his tongue--but for the most part, he keeps it languid. Unhurried, but sensual all the same.
It should feel unbelievable, being with Zhongli like this. Instead, it feels inevitable.
It would be a lie to say that Childe doesn't want more--that anticipation doesn't tingle beneath his skin, much the way it does before an exciting battle. But for now, he's content to linger here as long as Zhongli wants. Childe has nowhere else to be, and no desire to rush this.]
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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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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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zhongli could be unceremonious about this. in one smooth movement, he could lean down, bite and snap open the buckle, and finally unravel the harness. they could tuck the thing away in one of their folded coats, button childe's shirt, and be on their way—to childe's room or his own would be quickly decided. that would be the most sensible outcome.
instead, zhongli is silent for a moment as he searches childe's face. there's a rush in the center of his chest—one that crops up only in dire circumstances. the last time he felt this was at the final rite of descension, when rex lapis's flight gave way and the exuvia careened into liyue harbor.
there is little that excites an ancient god. childe is one of these exceptions. he was the one who recommended leaving, and suddenly he's grappling with it, enamored. what if they did defile the room? was it worth sacrificing the look on childe's face? the way his lightless eyes saw only him? he would never normally think this way.
he lowers his eyes to the remaining straps. he leans down to bring his mouth to the metal fastener, but he pauses midway. as he grasps the strap in first fingers and thumbs, he closes his eyes and presses an open-mouthed kiss over the center of childe's chest between his open collar. he pulls gently at the harness before he closes his teeth over the metal and snaps it open. ]
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This, however, is not that. This, just like his little tricks with the lip balm, is Zhongli teasing him--whether he's doing it on purpose or not. The other strap finally loosens, but Childe doesn't shiver because of the relief it grants his skin; rather, it's Zhongli's lips, warm on his already overheated skin, that has him making a soft sound low in his throat.]
You're killing me. [Muttered, but lacking heat. Somehow, his fingers have drifted from Zhongli's shoulder into his hair; Childe tries, and fails, not to get distracted by how soft it is.] Come on, let's get out of here.
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zhongli draws back, peeling the harness away completely. he resists bringing childe in for another kiss, setting him instead with half-lidded golden eyes, still wanting. he closes a button on childe's shirt and smooths his collar. they'll need to wipe that bite before they leave.
he murmurs, smiling: ] All right.
[ timeskip timeskip childe wears his jacket over his shoulders and they quickly pay the bill to the confusion of the hostesses. unless childe tugs them off elsewhere, zhongli leads him to his nearby residence. zhongli stays quiet, as if speaking would sever whatever finally flourished between them in the tea house. his key has already been fished out into his hand. ]
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(If he were to look, he's not sure he could keep his desire off of his face. And even though Childe's hardly the sort to be easily blackmailed, old habits die hard.)
He will not tug them off elsewhere, tempting as the thought may be. The heat, still ridiculously oppressive, actually works in their favor this time--Childe is far too eager to take refuge indoors to cause much mischief on the way. Zhongli's place isn't far, but that doesn't much matter for a native Snezhnayan. By the time they arrive, Childe's wilting again; he can't resist the urge to slump against Zhongli's shoulder with a quiet laugh.]
I have to admit, this isn't quite how I thought this would go.
[Which is... something he would have never admitted to thinking about, had this never transpired between them. He hadn't let his fantasies run too wild, of course--but it would be a lie to claim he'd never noticed their mutual attraction, that he'd never let his thoughts wander in the dead of night.
Of course, he hadn't pictured himself drenched in sweat from the weather like this, his skin still gently stinging from the mild injuries inflicted by his harness (and Zhongli's teeth). SURELY THIS IS NOT SUAVE AND SEXY... TCH... trust Zhongli to make a move when Childe's off his game. (He has no game.) Open the door before your shiny new boyfriend becomes a puddle on the floor, Zhongli]
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childe leans against him. at any other time, this would have been a friendly gesture, cute but unassuming. now, he can't help noticing the sweat sticking and seeping between their clothes, how childe's skin still feels hot underneath his shirt.
he glances at him and smiles as he unlocks the door. he's always liked his laugh. ]
I had the same thought. I'm curious as to what you might have imagined.
[ he tucks away his key and opens the door. he steps aside from it, gesturing inside. ]
Please.
[ go ahead and imagine what zhongli's home would look like bc we talked about it. in general it's a small space, meticulously furnished and decorated. the blinds on the windows have been drawn, leaving only strips of yellow-orange light against darkwood floors. the best part: it's shaded and cool inside. once childe's in, he'll lock the door behind him and move to turn on the lamps and candles. ]
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[WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW, DRAGON BOY.
Which is to say, despite his slightly pathetic appearance, he at least still has the energy to tease. Typical. But he slips inside without complaint--he even remembers to toe off his shoes in the entryway.
He discards his jacket immediately, too, unpeeling it and hanging it neatly to the side. What a housewife. After that, though, he lingers, watching Zhongli with something like quiet anticipation.
It isn't awkwardness or hesitation that keeps him still; rather, given a moment to rest and recuperate, Childe can't help but feel a charge in the air once again. The few times he'd visited in the past, Zhongli's home always felt like a respite--somewhere they could, he'd thought, lay down the burdens of their identities and simply coexist as not-quite-more-than-friends.
Now, of course, he knows that there was little truth to that outside of his own wistful thinking. If he'd returned here under different circumstances, the thought would have been sobering and dampened his mood. But with everything that transpired between them at the restaurant, it's difficult to summon up such feelings. And Childe, rarely one to dwell on grudges, doesn't particularly want to.
They have a lot to talk about, he knows. But right now, with his skin cooling to a much more bearable level of warmth and the soft lights bathing Zhongli in a golden glow, Childe doesn't want to talk at all.
So, after Zhongli lights up the room, Childe makes his way back over to him. He catches Zhongli's hand in his own, tugging slightly; wordless encouragement. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of Zhongli--at ease, yet just as beautiful as always--but he doesn't close the space between them; this time, he leaves that up to Zhongli.]
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he can feel childe's eyes on his back. the reason why they've arrived still suffuses everything. it's the current that pulls them together, promising that they both wanted this, and there was no sense in waiting any longer for it. it feels impossible to ignore.
there was a period of time where zhongli hadn't known if childe would return to liyue. osial was defeated at the expense of the jade chamber, the qixing assumed governance over liyue, and zhongli's bargain with the tsaritsa was properly executed. there was no reason for childe to stay in liyue other than to oversee continued operations at the northland bank if needed. when zhongli attempted to approach him, he seemed bitter—something only a person who knew him well might be able to discern.
zhongli's heart was leaden in his chest. he always paid the price of remembering. he couldn't forget the feeling of cultivating his first relationships as a human, when they knew him only as zhongli. it's especially impossible when the tension between you and your new friend is magnetic and relentless, palpable between every lingering look and brush of their hands and shoulders.
childe returned to him. his feelings quickly blossomed again, more relentless than before. and now they're here.
he searches childe's lightless eyes, rapt with affection and awe. zhongli tightens his grip on childe's hand and takes a step closer. he slides the fingertips of his free hand across childe's cheek, over his ear, into the back of his hair. it feels damp over his scalp, the strands sleek between his fingers. he tips his head, closes his eyes, and leans forward to kiss childe deeply on his beautiful mouth.
he feels weightless again, longing filling him like air. he deepens their kiss even further, breathing in sharply. he'll move them away in a moment. he needs this first. ]
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It should feel unbelievable, being with Zhongli like this. Instead, it feels inevitable.
It would be a lie to say that Childe doesn't want more--that anticipation doesn't tingle beneath his skin, much the way it does before an exciting battle. But for now, he's content to linger here as long as Zhongli wants. Childe has nowhere else to be, and no desire to rush this.]
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we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight