[A dangerous thing to say, but, well. It's true enough. And it's not like anyone can use his affection for Zhongli against him--Zhongli could crush anyone who'd try in a heartbeat.
Besides, he's happy to do it. He'll probably start sending photos along with all of his letters once he gets in the habit of it, honestly. He's sentimental like that.]
[ zhongli will invent accordion wallets just for those (no)(maybe)
they already send small treasures to each other with their letters: dried flowers and plants, pristine feathers, coins, the like. zhongli keeps these in their own antique coffer—red with an intricately carved black lid and base, lined with velvet, polished to a shine, locked with a small golden key that he keeps with him always. he commissioned its refurbishment himself (though he wasn't the one who ultimately paid for it). childe's photos would certainly fit inside. ]
Be careful not to offer what you cannot afford to lose.
[Anything works for me!! We can keep going unless you wanna cut back on threads 👍
Anyway, it's tempting to quip back--something like this doesn't look like losing to me, actually--but he doesn't want to derail them. That would be antithetical to the cause. What cause? Hmm, a mystery.
There's another delay as he considers his options (where even is he right now. Also a mystery even to me) but since they're only talking, he can be as shameless as he wants, so.]
[Ooh, a challenge. Surprising no one, he's immediately on board.]
Terms accepted.
[He knows how much you love your contract talk, Zhongli, even if this isn't actually one. Anyway he'll give it a minute or two to make sure Zhongli is... ready? Settled? Done with whatever he was potentially doing in case he hadn't anticipated this conversation veering off in this direction, although he probably did because he started it, which is actually kind of--
Right, focus. RING RING RING RING RING dodoco phone]
We're in mutual agreement then. Please stay exactly where you are until our conversation ends. I'll wait for your call.
[ he does indeed!
childe is right (or at least he was, maybe). zhongli wouldn't have instigated anything like this if he wasn't already prepared. there is an office for him at the wangsheng funeral parlor, which is currently empty; hu tao is currently out at wuwang hill, preparing for a burial.
zhongli picks up soon after it rings. he leans back against his chair and holds the receiver near his lips. he listens for any sort of background noise, the steady sound of breathing—anything to tell him that someone is on the other line.
how did it turn from sleeping in lotus ponds to deep and serious façades to this? ]
Childe.
[ his voice is a murmur, smooth and lilting. childe gave him a weapon before, when he said he liked his voice. ]
[It turned out this way because Childe has never told a loved one "no" in his life and he doesn't plan to start now. "pixi he started it" don't worry about that part
As for "exactly where he is"--well, that's impossible to tell from the call alone. It seems quiet enough, though there is definitely some form of distant background noise. Maybe he's tucked into a far, private corner of some establishment, or maybe he's just at home near an open window to create the illusion of risk. Maybe Zhongli will never know.
Anyway, Zhongli forbade him from speaking, but not from making noise in general--so he hums in assent, though it's decently quiet. Toeing the line of breaking the rules without pushing hard enough to get in trouble quite yet... as expected, given his, y'know. Everything.]
[ it's very like him, and it's innocuous enough that zhongli can let it slide.
he looks at the corner of his desk, unseeing as he gathers his thoughts. he idly rubs the corner of a piece of paper between his fingers. he's smiling, eyes half-lidded. ]
There is a vendor who will occasionally make her rounds at Bubu Pharmacy. Her mixtures are a rare find made by her own hands. She offers Baizhu a small commission in exchange for selling her wares under the table.
One in particular is very interesting. She's created a topical mixed with powdered flaming flower stamens and mist flower corollas. The makeup of the substance is such that the mixture cools and warms in succession, and the effects last for quite a long time. The fluid itself is thick, and it's surprisingly mild enough to be edible. The flavor is sweet. It was made for aches and pains, but according to Baizhu, it's particularly popular among couples.
[ he folds and creases the edge of the paper. ]
Needless to say, I've procured a vial of my own. I sampled it last night, thinking of you. I can certainly see the appeal.
[Truthfully, Zhongli could've chosen to talk about anything. He does like Zhongli's voice--it's always so warm and decadent, no matter what it is he's actually saying. The insinuations in Zhongli's messages were clear as day, but if Zhongli had decided to tease him and start rambling about something innocuous, he would've been happy to listen anyway.
But he's certainly not complaining. Childe's always had a vivid imagination, and immediately, his mind fills with images and possibilities. Zhongli alone in his bed, testing his new purchase on his wrists, his neck, his thighs--intimate and sensitive, but carefully prudent all the same. Zhongli slicking his palm with it and taking himself in hand, shivering under its effects. Zhongli with his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed, lost to fantasy.
He hadn't known Zhongli would enjoy something like that. Now that he does, he's already planning to get his hands on as many variations of it as possible. Being rich has its advantages.
True to his word, he stays quiet. The only sign that he's listening is the deep, steadying breath he takes. But really, his silence is more of a sign of his rapt attention than any rule-breaking would've been.]
[ zhongli takes a brief pause, listening. once he hears that long breath, he continues again. good. ]
This woman is clever. She sells small vials, meant for one or two uses, and then a larger bottle.
[ childe may hear as zhongli carefully opens the small satchel laid on his desk. hu tao is gone. his doors are locked. he sets the bottle on his desk. ]
I decided to buy the bottle, if it interests you. I have it with me now, in fact.
[ he gets up to pull the shades over his windows. ]
Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is empty for the day, with the exception of myself. Perhaps you might like to hear a demonstration.
[ he's smiling again—snidely now. he settles slowly back into his chair, and tucks the phone between his ear and a raised shoulder. as he speaks, he picks the gloves off his fingers and peels them away from the heel of his hands. ]
I'm glad you're still there. I hope you're all right.
[ it's a little facetious. childe does not sound all right, but not in a bad way. at least not to zhongli.
hands bared, he reaches to hold his phone as he slowly undoes the front clasps of his coat. his head is still tipped to the phone at his shoulder, gold eyes slanted towards the side of the room. he can see childe in his mind's eye—the backdrop a vague and murmuring blur, him sitting with the phone to his cheek, red-faced and biting his lip.
he takes a deep, satisfied breath that bleeds into his first few words. ]
I wonder how long you'll last, hearing me this way and knowing you can do nothing? You do enjoy being challenged.
[ childe will hear shifting clothes, coats drawn away from shoulders and laid over the back of his chair. ]
Perhaps you'll make me wait until I come without you.
["I hope you're alright," he says! Honestly, even though Zhongli's riling him up, the harder part is not being able to quip back at him. He can stay quiet when Zhongli's painting vivid, obscene pictures in his mind; for now, not being able to banter with him is much more difficult.
But Zhongli's right--he does love being challenged, loves finding every single one of his limits and figuring out what it takes to surpass them. This whole thing would have worked him up regardless, but adding a layer of challenge on top of it? Leave it to Zhongli to know all the best-worst ways to tease him.
Despite his surprise, he won't give in that easily, other than to make a quiet sound of reassurance that means yes, I'm fine, you ass (affectionate). He heard the blinds a few moments ago, and the soft thud of glass on wood, and he can hear the unmistakable rustle of fabric now, and--gods, he's never truly prepared for anything when it comes to Zhongli, is he. Just as easily as Zhongli's last little story, he can see it in his head so, so clearly. The dim lighting of the office, as Zhongli carefully sets his coat aside. Does he keep spare clothes in his office? Or is he going to take--is he--will he just--
--Well, it depends on what he means by a "demonstration", doesn't he? He'll have to find out. A part of him doubts that Zhongli would ever actually do something bold in his place of work, even if no one is around to catch him. But then--all of Liyue is his, isn't it? Even if he renounced his claim, who's to tell him what he can and can't do, wherever and whenever he wants to do it?
He went about this terribly. He should've bargained, should've asked to be allowed a few questions. But no, he rushed in, and now Zhongli's right--he can't do anything unless he wants to lose their little game. And while he wouldn't actually mind that, ending it so early would interrupt their fun, so. Just as Zhongli imagines, he bites his lip and shifts in his seat, but he keeps quiet.]
[ childe is quiet except for the light sound of his breath gusting against the receiver. there's no real reaction thus far other than the phone being dropped. zhongli's patience is normally second to none—although childe has made himself an exception at times. they'll have to see who wins out.
right now, zhongli isn't worried. childe is wondering how far he would go inside of his own office, and maybe the question should be turned back on himself: how long would it take for childe to break?
zhongli has the phone propped back against his ear while he rolls up his sleeves. he's drawing this out as long as he can. ]
I'm trying to decide... Should my shirt be opened? I would have to loosen my tie as well. Perhaps you would pull the knot from my hair, as you are wont to do.
[ he lays his diamond brooch on the desk, loosens his tie down to his collarbone. warmth creeps up his neck at the thought that childe is listening all the while. careful, zhongli. ]
...What would you truly do to me, if you were here in this room? Would you be thrilled by the risk of being discovered? Would you move slowly, or would I have you over my desk or against my door, with your hands tearing at my back? That's left for me to imagine, unfortunately. I've gotten quite good at it. ...I wish it wasn't so.
[ with one hand, he opens some of the buttons of his shirt. he slides his fingertips down his stomach with a sigh, slacking his shoulders against the chair behind him. he holds the phone with his hand again, murmuring into it with all sincerity. ]
[Here's what Zhongli may not know: Childe isn't that far away.
Childe, at least, fully believes Zhongli doesn't know his whereabouts. Doesn't know that he's only a building away, holed up in his office and perched near the window. He'd intended to surprise Zhongli at the end of the work day, to catch him on his way out and drag him off to dinner to catch up after their time apart. He'd slipped up in their conversation earlier--in "this" weather, he'd said, catching himself just a moment too late--but Zhongli hadn't said anything about it, and so Childe can only assume he remains unaware.
But the proximity adds a whole new layer of delicious torture to their game. Zhongli might think Childe can do nothing but listen; Childe, on the other hand, is painfully aware of just how easy it would be to vault out onto the walkway and burst in through Zhongli's window. Everything Zhongli describes, everything Childe can imagine with perfect clarity--it's all within reach, should he only give in and go take it.
He's having fun like this, though, walking the knife's edge of temptation the way he always does. Zhongli never forbade him from touching himself while he listens, and he takes advantage of that oversight(?) now, pressing the heel of his palm to his crotch to stave off the arousal thrumming through his body. He wants everything Zhongli's describing--wants to thread his fingers through Zhongli's hair and press his lips to every scar that rests beneath his immaculate clothes. The sight of Zhongli kiss-marked and disheveled is perhaps the most beautiful thing he's ever had the privilege of witnessing, and he aims for it every chance he gets. It's surely not the same when Zhongli's on his own, of course, but Childe pictures it anyway, his mind oscillating between fantasies of the two of them together, and of Zhongli touching himself now. Always so greedy, even in his imagination.
(The window's open, but he's not really that close to it. His staff are still milling around the bank, but his door's locked, and they know better than to disturb him when the door's closed anyway.)
He's not prepared for Zhongli's tone, nor for the way it makes his heart ache. Childe's eyes snap open, and it's only then that he realizes he's closed them.]
Th-- [That's not fair, he almost protests, but he bites his tongue before the words fully escape him. Still, that small slip is probably more than enough to clue Zhongli in on what he'd intended to say.
There's something a little sullen in the silence that follows; he's pouting. What a baby.]
[ zhongli hadn't said anything about childe touching himself, true, but isn't it satisfying to know that childe can't help himself? wouldn't it be sweet to hear him coming apart from the other side, wherever he is?
and besides—zhongli can certainly change his mind. there's nothing that says he can't. he'll just have to listen for the sound of it—shifting clothes, an unbuttoning, the sound of velvet skin slipping wetly through his palm as he groans. it's what he was looking for all along, aside from childe's concession. it would give away that childe might be somewhere outside of the public eye, though...
so maybe it's hard not to be a little aroused by the idea of this. he made a weak attempt to stave it off until now. it's more believable if he's turned on anyway, isn't it?
childe stumbles slightly, biting his tongue just before he speaks. zhongli raises his brows, pleasantly surprised. his smile curves a little higher. he knows what that pause means. what a little baby. ]
Not fair, is it? [ yes, he knows. ] I don't believe I've broken the rules of our game. I am only telling you the whole truth. Do you mean to say that you miss me as well?
[ more goading questions. he closes the fingers of his free hand over the neck of the bottle, popping the cork with his thumb and first finger. he pauses for an answer that he knows isn't coming. ]
...No matter. I am here alone regardless, missing you. Your own hands and thoughts can only go so far to satisfy. I cannot recreate the feeling of your hair gripped in my hand in the way that you love. There is nowhere to sink my teeth into, and I cannot goad myself the way you do. I long to have your legs around me again.
[ warmth prickles him again. he's glad that he opened his shirt collar.
he slowly opens the buttons of his trousers. ]
At least I can remember the way you would call out to me.
[Zhongli can't see him, but Childe makes a sour face anyway. Of course he misses him--Zhongli knows that perfectly well, and it's downright underhanded to prevent him from saying anything about it. And it's not like he doesn't know Zhongli plays dirty, not like Childe didn't willingly sign up to be goaded--but still. Bringing their deeper emotions into this... how cruel.
(And look, yes, Childe wouldn't have it any other way. But still.)
At least Zhongli moves back to the physical after that, more or less. Except that Childe can't settle back down so quickly. The distant sound of the bottle cork startles him, though he'd be hard-pressed to explain why. It's not like he consciously thought Zhongli was faking--but before this, he'd been half-focused on the images Zhongli conjured in his mind. Zhongli's a gifted storyteller, after all, and he'd been happy to let his thoughts go where Zhongli chose to direct them.
Now, even though his scalp tingles with phantom pain, even though his neck aches with the memory of Zhongli's teeth and tongue--he's laser-focused. Listening with near-predatory intent to every rustle of fabric, every possible change in Zhongli's breathing, all the little things that might help him accurately visualize what Zhongli's truly doing. Had he mistaken the sound of Zhongli's coat for something else? Was it his brooch or his hair clasp that he'd put down, a moment ago? Or something else? How much skin is he showing in the privacy of his office, so close by--
It's really hard to radiate the vibes of don't you dare over the phone, but Childe sure is trying his damndest. ("Don't you dare" what? Even he doesn't know.) He may or may not be unconsciously holding his breath, which, honestly, is more of a sign of his rapt attention than any little noises he might've made otherwise.
Honestly, he's not that far from his breaking point--Zhongli got him good with that I miss you. One more critical hit, maybe two, and he'll almost certainly give in.]
[ zhongli's senses are sharpened, all focus in the world brought down to a pinprick: the sound of childe's uneven breaths, the quiet sounds he's made, his slip of the tongue. as if he needed any more of an excuse to center his attention on him.
it's almost enough to draw him away from his intentions. it would be his own version of giving in to take himself in his hand, work himself to full hardness, let childe know he wanted to hear his voice, games be damned.
but he doesn't. there is no sound from the receiver, meaning that childe's anticipation is reaching near it's peak. for zhongli, it's grounding.
he rests his hand around the base of the bottle, idly running his thumb in small strokes over the glass. ]
You've made me into a much greedier creature. I would never ask that you abandon all else or stay with me always. There are only moments where my selfishness gets the better of me. I see the ocean and think of you always, and at times I wish that you were beside me.
[ all of this in earnest. more than he thinks of childe's hair or mouth or hands, he sees all of him at once: a still-life painted into his memory, lovingly and excruciatingly detailed, childe sitting on the banister of the terrace that looks into the square, gathering zhongli's fingers in his hand and smiling like there was nowhere else he belonged but there.
zhongli's chest twists. enough of that.
he slides his hand slowly from his knee down over the inside of his thigh. he grazes his lips against the receiver as he murmurs, voice warm and rumbling: ]
And there are times when I want you until it aches, just as I want you now.
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no subject
[A dangerous thing to say, but, well. It's true enough. And it's not like anyone can use his affection for Zhongli against him--Zhongli could crush anyone who'd try in a heartbeat.
Besides, he's happy to do it. He'll probably start sending photos along with all of his letters once he gets in the habit of it, honestly. He's sentimental like that.]
no subject
they already send small treasures to each other with their letters: dried flowers and plants, pristine feathers, coins, the like. zhongli keeps these in their own antique coffer—red with an intricately carved black lid and base, lined with velvet, polished to a shine, locked with a small golden key that he keeps with him always. he commissioned its refurbishment himself (though he wasn't the one who ultimately paid for it). childe's photos would certainly fit inside. ]
Be careful not to offer what you cannot afford to lose.
no subject
Oh? What are planning to ask for, hm?
[we're back to flirting]
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That would depend on your location.
1/2
2/2
anyway jk jk of course he is immediately playing along]
What are my options?
no subject
In or on your way to Liyue, in another public location, or somewhere private.
[ he won't even try to be sly about it. lmk if you wanna stop or ftb if this goes any further ]
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Anyway, it's tempting to quip back--something like this doesn't look like losing to me, actually--but he doesn't want to derail them. That would be antithetical to the cause. What cause? Hmm, a mystery.
There's another delay as he considers his options (where even is he right now. Also a mystery even to me) but since they're only talking, he can be as shameless as he wants, so.]
And if I said I was somewhere public?
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You do not speak. Only listen.
no subject
Terms accepted.
[He knows how much you love your contract talk, Zhongli, even if this isn't actually one. Anyway he'll give it a minute or two to make sure Zhongli is... ready? Settled? Done with whatever he was potentially doing in case he hadn't anticipated this conversation veering off in this direction, although he probably did because he started it, which is actually kind of--
Right, focus. RING RING RING RING RING dodoco phone]
no subject
Please stay exactly where you are until our conversation ends.
I'll wait for your call.
[ he does indeed!
childe is right (or at least he was, maybe). zhongli wouldn't have instigated anything like this if he wasn't already prepared. there is an office for him at the wangsheng funeral parlor, which is currently empty; hu tao is currently out at wuwang hill, preparing for a burial.
zhongli picks up soon after it rings. he leans back against his chair and holds the receiver near his lips. he listens for any sort of background noise, the steady sound of breathing—anything to tell him that someone is on the other line.
how did it turn from sleeping in lotus ponds to deep and serious façades to this? ]
Childe.
[ his voice is a murmur, smooth and lilting. childe gave him a weapon before, when he said he liked his voice. ]
I assume that you can hear me.
no subject
As for "exactly where he is"--well, that's impossible to tell from the call alone. It seems quiet enough, though there is definitely some form of distant background noise. Maybe he's tucked into a far, private corner of some establishment, or maybe he's just at home near an open window to create the illusion of risk. Maybe Zhongli will never know.
Anyway, Zhongli forbade him from speaking, but not from making noise in general--so he hums in assent, though it's decently quiet. Toeing the line of breaking the rules without pushing hard enough to get in trouble quite yet... as expected, given his, y'know. Everything.]
no subject
he looks at the corner of his desk, unseeing as he gathers his thoughts. he idly rubs the corner of a piece of paper between his fingers. he's smiling, eyes half-lidded. ]
There is a vendor who will occasionally make her rounds at Bubu Pharmacy. Her mixtures are a rare find made by her own hands. She offers Baizhu a small commission in exchange for selling her wares under the table.
One in particular is very interesting. She's created a topical mixed with powdered flaming flower stamens and mist flower corollas. The makeup of the substance is such that the mixture cools and warms in succession, and the effects last for quite a long time. The fluid itself is thick, and it's surprisingly mild enough to be edible. The flavor is sweet. It was made for aches and pains, but according to Baizhu, it's particularly popular among couples.
[ he folds and creases the edge of the paper. ]
Needless to say, I've procured a vial of my own. I sampled it last night, thinking of you. I can certainly see the appeal.
no subject
But he's certainly not complaining. Childe's always had a vivid imagination, and immediately, his mind fills with images and possibilities. Zhongli alone in his bed, testing his new purchase on his wrists, his neck, his thighs--intimate and sensitive, but carefully prudent all the same. Zhongli slicking his palm with it and taking himself in hand, shivering under its effects. Zhongli with his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed, lost to fantasy.
He hadn't known Zhongli would enjoy something like that. Now that he does, he's already planning to get his hands on as many variations of it as possible. Being rich has its advantages.
True to his word, he stays quiet. The only sign that he's listening is the deep, steadying breath he takes. But really, his silence is more of a sign of his rapt attention than any rule-breaking would've been.]
no subject
This woman is clever. She sells small vials, meant for one or two uses, and then a larger bottle.
[ childe may hear as zhongli carefully opens the small satchel laid on his desk. hu tao is gone. his doors are locked. he sets the bottle on his desk. ]
I decided to buy the bottle, if it interests you. I have it with me now, in fact.
[ he gets up to pull the shades over his windows. ]
Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is empty for the day, with the exception of myself. Perhaps you might like to hear a demonstration.
[ :) ]
1/2
this may or may not be the reaction Zhongli's looking for
but there's a loud clattering noise that means that Childe definitely dropped his phone on the floor]
2/2
Ahem. He's fine. Continue.]
1/2
it takes a second, but it's not hard to guess what just happened. especially when he hears childe's throat being cleared. ]
2/2
I'm glad you're still there. I hope you're all right.
[ it's a little facetious. childe does not sound all right, but not in a bad way. at least not to zhongli.
hands bared, he reaches to hold his phone as he slowly undoes the front clasps of his coat. his head is still tipped to the phone at his shoulder, gold eyes slanted towards the side of the room. he can see childe in his mind's eye—the backdrop a vague and murmuring blur, him sitting with the phone to his cheek, red-faced and biting his lip.
he takes a deep, satisfied breath that bleeds into his first few words. ]
I wonder how long you'll last, hearing me this way and knowing you can do nothing? You do enjoy being challenged.
[ childe will hear shifting clothes, coats drawn away from shoulders and laid over the back of his chair. ]
Perhaps you'll make me wait until I come without you.
no subject
But Zhongli's right--he does love being challenged, loves finding every single one of his limits and figuring out what it takes to surpass them. This whole thing would have worked him up regardless, but adding a layer of challenge on top of it? Leave it to Zhongli to know all the best-worst ways to tease him.
Despite his surprise, he won't give in that easily, other than to make a quiet sound of reassurance that means yes, I'm fine, you ass (affectionate). He heard the blinds a few moments ago, and the soft thud of glass on wood, and he can hear the unmistakable rustle of fabric now, and--gods, he's never truly prepared for anything when it comes to Zhongli, is he. Just as easily as Zhongli's last little story, he can see it in his head so, so clearly. The dim lighting of the office, as Zhongli carefully sets his coat aside. Does he keep spare clothes in his office? Or is he going to take--is he--will he just--
--Well, it depends on what he means by a "demonstration", doesn't he? He'll have to find out. A part of him doubts that Zhongli would ever actually do something bold in his place of work, even if no one is around to catch him. But then--all of Liyue is his, isn't it? Even if he renounced his claim, who's to tell him what he can and can't do, wherever and whenever he wants to do it?
He went about this terribly. He should've bargained, should've asked to be allowed a few questions. But no, he rushed in, and now Zhongli's right--he can't do anything unless he wants to lose their little game. And while he wouldn't actually mind that, ending it so early would interrupt their fun, so. Just as Zhongli imagines, he bites his lip and shifts in his seat, but he keeps quiet.]
no subject
right now, zhongli isn't worried. childe is wondering how far he would go inside of his own office, and maybe the question should be turned back on himself: how long would it take for childe to break?
zhongli has the phone propped back against his ear while he rolls up his sleeves. he's drawing this out as long as he can. ]
I'm trying to decide... Should my shirt be opened? I would have to loosen my tie as well. Perhaps you would pull the knot from my hair, as you are wont to do.
[ he lays his diamond brooch on the desk, loosens his tie down to his collarbone. warmth creeps up his neck at the thought that childe is listening all the while. careful, zhongli. ]
...What would you truly do to me, if you were here in this room? Would you be thrilled by the risk of being discovered? Would you move slowly, or would I have you over my desk or against my door, with your hands tearing at my back? That's left for me to imagine, unfortunately. I've gotten quite good at it. ...I wish it wasn't so.
[ with one hand, he opens some of the buttons of his shirt. he slides his fingertips down his stomach with a sigh, slacking his shoulders against the chair behind him. he holds the phone with his hand again, murmuring into it with all sincerity. ]
It hasn't been long, but I miss you, Ajax.
no subject
Childe, at least, fully believes Zhongli doesn't know his whereabouts. Doesn't know that he's only a building away, holed up in his office and perched near the window. He'd intended to surprise Zhongli at the end of the work day, to catch him on his way out and drag him off to dinner to catch up after their time apart. He'd slipped up in their conversation earlier--in "this" weather, he'd said, catching himself just a moment too late--but Zhongli hadn't said anything about it, and so Childe can only assume he remains unaware.
But the proximity adds a whole new layer of delicious torture to their game. Zhongli might think Childe can do nothing but listen; Childe, on the other hand, is painfully aware of just how easy it would be to vault out onto the walkway and burst in through Zhongli's window. Everything Zhongli describes, everything Childe can imagine with perfect clarity--it's all within reach, should he only give in and go take it.
He's having fun like this, though, walking the knife's edge of temptation the way he always does. Zhongli never forbade him from touching himself while he listens, and he takes advantage of that oversight(?) now, pressing the heel of his palm to his crotch to stave off the arousal thrumming through his body. He wants everything Zhongli's describing--wants to thread his fingers through Zhongli's hair and press his lips to every scar that rests beneath his immaculate clothes. The sight of Zhongli kiss-marked and disheveled is perhaps the most beautiful thing he's ever had the privilege of witnessing, and he aims for it every chance he gets. It's surely not the same when Zhongli's on his own, of course, but Childe pictures it anyway, his mind oscillating between fantasies of the two of them together, and of Zhongli touching himself now. Always so greedy, even in his imagination.
(The window's open, but he's not really that close to it. His staff are still milling around the bank, but his door's locked, and they know better than to disturb him when the door's closed anyway.)
He's not prepared for Zhongli's tone, nor for the way it makes his heart ache. Childe's eyes snap open, and it's only then that he realizes he's closed them.]
Th-- [That's not fair, he almost protests, but he bites his tongue before the words fully escape him. Still, that small slip is probably more than enough to clue Zhongli in on what he'd intended to say.
There's something a little sullen in the silence that follows; he's pouting. What a baby.]
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and besides—zhongli can certainly change his mind. there's nothing that says he can't. he'll just have to listen for the sound of it—shifting clothes, an unbuttoning, the sound of velvet skin slipping wetly through his palm as he groans. it's what he was looking for all along, aside from childe's concession. it would give away that childe might be somewhere outside of the public eye, though...
so maybe it's hard not to be a little aroused by the idea of this. he made a weak attempt to stave it off until now. it's more believable if he's turned on anyway, isn't it?
childe stumbles slightly, biting his tongue just before he speaks. zhongli raises his brows, pleasantly surprised. his smile curves a little higher. he knows what that pause means. what a little baby. ]
Not fair, is it? [ yes, he knows. ] I don't believe I've broken the rules of our game. I am only telling you the whole truth. Do you mean to say that you miss me as well?
[ more goading questions. he closes the fingers of his free hand over the neck of the bottle, popping the cork with his thumb and first finger. he pauses for an answer that he knows isn't coming. ]
...No matter. I am here alone regardless, missing you. Your own hands and thoughts can only go so far to satisfy. I cannot recreate the feeling of your hair gripped in my hand in the way that you love. There is nowhere to sink my teeth into, and I cannot goad myself the way you do. I long to have your legs around me again.
[ warmth prickles him again. he's glad that he opened his shirt collar.
he slowly opens the buttons of his trousers. ]
At least I can remember the way you would call out to me.
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(And look, yes, Childe wouldn't have it any other way. But still.)
At least Zhongli moves back to the physical after that, more or less. Except that Childe can't settle back down so quickly. The distant sound of the bottle cork startles him, though he'd be hard-pressed to explain why. It's not like he consciously thought Zhongli was faking--but before this, he'd been half-focused on the images Zhongli conjured in his mind. Zhongli's a gifted storyteller, after all, and he'd been happy to let his thoughts go where Zhongli chose to direct them.
Now, even though his scalp tingles with phantom pain, even though his neck aches with the memory of Zhongli's teeth and tongue--he's laser-focused. Listening with near-predatory intent to every rustle of fabric, every possible change in Zhongli's breathing, all the little things that might help him accurately visualize what Zhongli's truly doing. Had he mistaken the sound of Zhongli's coat for something else? Was it his brooch or his hair clasp that he'd put down, a moment ago? Or something else? How much skin is he showing in the privacy of his office, so close by--
It's really hard to radiate the vibes of don't you dare over the phone, but Childe sure is trying his damndest. ("Don't you dare" what? Even he doesn't know.) He may or may not be unconsciously holding his breath, which, honestly, is more of a sign of his rapt attention than any little noises he might've made otherwise.
Honestly, he's not that far from his breaking point--Zhongli got him good with that I miss you. One more critical hit, maybe two, and he'll almost certainly give in.]
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it's almost enough to draw him away from his intentions. it would be his own version of giving in to take himself in his hand, work himself to full hardness, let childe know he wanted to hear his voice, games be damned.
but he doesn't. there is no sound from the receiver, meaning that childe's anticipation is reaching near it's peak. for zhongli, it's grounding.
he rests his hand around the base of the bottle, idly running his thumb in small strokes over the glass. ]
You've made me into a much greedier creature. I would never ask that you abandon all else or stay with me always. There are only moments where my selfishness gets the better of me. I see the ocean and think of you always, and at times I wish that you were beside me.
[ all of this in earnest. more than he thinks of childe's hair or mouth or hands, he sees all of him at once: a still-life painted into his memory, lovingly and excruciatingly detailed, childe sitting on the banister of the terrace that looks into the square, gathering zhongli's fingers in his hand and smiling like there was nowhere else he belonged but there.
zhongli's chest twists. enough of that.
he slides his hand slowly from his knee down over the inside of his thigh. he grazes his lips against the receiver as he murmurs, voice warm and rumbling: ]
And there are times when I want you until it aches, just as I want you now.
[ he swallows thickly, closes his eyes. ]
Ajax, I...
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