[ 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.]
[ initially, zhongli is just as indulgent. childe's lips are thin and pliant, and the inside of his mouth is soft and hot, the clean and earthy taste of tea still beneath his tongue. childe nips at his lips and he smiles briefly; he answers when childe's tongue pushes against his. he meanders in their heavy kisses, over and over, as he does with everything else he adores.
that isn't all they're here for. his muscle tenses beneath the childe's fingertips. anticipation curls in his stomach where it laid dormant. childe would briefly feel the sharpened canines in his mouth, grown to points behind his lips.
zhongli had his (correct) assumptions about the nature of their relationship, but he keeps them to himself. what they're doing now only concerns their surface-level attraction—the age-old thrum of tension between their bodies, reaching into the pitch blackness, finding out what would happen if they came too close together. for all zhongli cares about the art of conversation (aka hearing his own voice), he wouldn't let this be interrupted, even by himself.
zhongli's freed hand smooths over the curve of childe's back and draws him in, flattening their chests together. whether or not childe stumbles, zhongli walks him against the bare spread of wall nearby, crowding childe against it and muffling the crack of childe's head against the wall with his hand. their bodies crush together and zhongli kisses him hard, savoring, breathing him in.
his hand slides from behind childe's head to the base of his neck. his thumb runs against the dried flecks of blood where his bite still festered. the wound gently reopens underneath it, painting a smear of red over his skin.
zhongli finally breaks the line of their kisses. mouth still hovering close, his sharp, golden eyes open and settle on childe. he cleans his lips and murmurs: ]
In the tea house... Would you have let me have my way with you there?
[Childe, fortunately, does not stumble. He's far too attuned to Zhongli right now for that--he matches Zhongli's movements with the grace and instinct of a dancer matching their partner, and only when his back hits the wall does he relinquish a degree of awareness. He catches a hint of Zhongli's sharp teeth just as Zhongli's thumb grazes his tender neck, and he shudders violently, nails digging into the flesh of Zhongli's waist.
He can't let himself think too deeply about any of this. Not right now. Like Zhongli, the last thing he wants is to break them out of this spell--there will be time to doubt, worry, hesitate talk later. Right now, he doesn't care about anything beyond the hard lines of Zhongli's body against his own, the swipe of Zhongli's tongue against his and the warm palm resting on his spine.
It takes a minute to catch his breath when Zhongli breaks away; the question makes him lean his head back and laugh even as his pulse soars.]
Let you? I think I should be offended. [He very clearly does not; his tone is mischief personified, sweetness and bite blended together like potent wine. His voice is steady aside from that hint of breathlessness, but he dips his head back down and watches Zhongli's lips intently, a betrayal of his easy humor. Any possible traces of balm have long since rubbed away, but Zhongli's mouth is so beautifully damp and shiny.] Do I seem so passive?
[He punctuates his question by dragging Zhongli closer, lifting his hips from the wall to press them forward, against Zhongli's. Between the teahouse and their kisses just now (and, y'know, the fact that it's Zhongli), it's probably no surprise that he's already half-hard. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against Zhongli's and dropping his voice to a low murmur.]
If we'd gone any farther in there, it would've been just as much me as you.
[ arousal lances through his body. just as childe looses all sense of what surrounds them, zhongli's attention hones in on the slick feel of childe's skin, his delighted laughter, the wine in his voice. childe knows how he feels about wine.
to answer those pointed looks at his lips, zhongli takes another long, deep kiss from his mouth. he savors the soft give of his lips, the resistance in his teeth, the thump of childe's head against the wall as zhongli stops beseeching and finally takes what he wants.
when he draws back, there's only a small hint of breathlessness. he smiles. ]
You seemed content to keep still once I sunk my teeth into you.
[ he punctuates this with a slow, tight roll of his hips. zhongli is just as hard, and the drag of their cocks runs electric through his hips. his eyes are incandescent in their abject want, boring deeply. he remembers the dazed, beautiful look in those eyes.
he makes quick work of the remaining buttons of childe's shirt. ]
You were breathless. I've never seen you in such a state. ...I want for you to look at me that way again.
[It shouldn't feel so good. Not with so many layers still between them, even with Zhongli dressed down for the heat as he is. Not when they've just barely begun--but then, maybe that's part of the reason. Maybe the thrill of something new has interwoven with the already-considerable attraction he feels (has always felt, no matter if he's ignored it) for Zhongli. Perhaps he could think it through more, if his attention wasn't so completely stolen by Zhongli's tongue, his hips, his nimble fingers.
Not to mention his words. Childe's always been weak to the way he speaks--smooth and elegant, like a storyteller. He'd had no idea what it would be like, pairing that with such blatant, abject desire. For someone who laughs in the face of his own limits, it's dangerously intoxicating.
The air indoors is so much cooler on his skin than it was outside, but that hardly matters when he feels warm all over again. He can't be mad, though, when it's Zhongli's doing. Even the slight ache from the marks left by his harness have faded from his attention by now.]
You caught me by surprise. [That playful lilt is still there--he sounds as confident as ever, despite the clear want he isn't trying to hide in the slightest. He lets his hands slip up beneath Zhongli's shirt, exploring by touch for now.] It won't happen again.
[An incredibly predictable challenge, judging from his grin. But he can't help it--give him a sleeping beast, and he'll tear heaven and earth apart just to find a stick to poke it with. They both know he can't hope to win against Zhongli, not if Zhongli actually puts his mind to something, but that's the whole fun of it--and besides, Zhongli deserves to do a little work for what he wants, in Childe's completely, totally, definitely unbiased opinion.]
we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight
[ it's tempting to finish what he's started the moment before they left the tea house. he could let his kisses trail from the column of childe's throat down to the middle of his chest, bare now that his shirt's been opened. he'd memorize every scar through his lips and fingers, and he'd draw out every octave of sound from childe's voice.
but zhongli has the rest of the evening for this. for the moment, he's drinking in that mischievous grin, knowing that response is meant to goad him. show me, childe whispered before, and zhongli hears it again. and yes, he'll work for it.
the buttons on childe's pants are fingered open. zhongli smiles, sultry and warm, and he leans forward to close childe's smiling lips with his own. his hands fall to childe's hips, over his ass, and he pulls him in as he grinds forward. he pushes his tongue into his mouth, to silence him and taste everything again.
he shouldn't reward this behavior, but zhongli can't help it. there's too much of childe suddenly within his reach—so many imagined things that can finally take root in reality, more visceral than even an ancient god's imagination can conjure. the way childe grins at him makes him crumble.
he draws back, cleans his lips, and smiles again. his gaze bores into childe's, endlessly hungry. ]
I see. Then I will only have to surprise you once more. I believe I can manage it.
[ his teeth glint between his lips. he'll drag childe to his bedroom eventually. their night will end with the two of them naked and sprawled on his bed, come stuck to their skin and in wet strings over the sheets. the comforter and pillows will be unceremoniously pulled and pushed and thrown over the bedside. their bodies will be covered in bites and scrapes and bruises, well-loved and worshipped. zhongli will look like morax again, having given up on hiding it long before. (he gave up on hiding many things that night. what's one more?)
right now, he kisses childe again as if to devour him whole and guides them back into what they already started. ]
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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. ]
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Childe likes this, though. Not just because he's unintentionally riled Zhongli up enough that he's chosen to throw caution to the wind--even if that, too, will buoy his mood for weeks. But it's more that there's something beautifully honest about the two of them coming together in this way. No significant arrangements, no monumental gestures--just a natural progression, as if they've been doing this all along. As if they'd dropped a thread they were already holding, and they were simply waiting for the right moment to pick it up.
Zhongli's fingers slip between the strap and his skin, and Childe makes a soft sound when it pulls against his tender skin, unable to help himself. Suddenly, it's unacceptable that he's not touching Zhongli, and his fingers flex with conflicted desire. He wants to pull Zhongli closer, into his lap--he wants to shove everything off of the table, or even drag them both onto the floor. He'll figure that out soon enough. For now, though, he finally reaches out to put his hands on Zhongli, resting one just below his jaw and the other on his thigh. Ostensibly, it's for balance as he leans close. Truthfully, it's just because he's feeling extremely bold right now.
Not once has Childe ever thought about his harness outside of it's practical uses. Now he'll never be able to wear it without thinking about how much Zhongli apparently likes it. Gods.
He parts his lips for Zhongli, warm and inviting. He savors the taste of him; dimly, he knows he should probably care more about who, what, Zhongli actually is, but right now, it doesn't seem important.
(That's what makes Zhongli so dangerous, really. It's so easy to love him as just... Zhongli.)
He pulls back, breathing heavily. It's so, so warm, in a way that has nothing to do with the weather.]
Show me.
[He's thinking of Zhongli's offer from earlier--to prove exactly how he'd broken the other clasp, before they'd veered off into teasing and touching and kissing. But if Zhongli's changed his mind, or if he takes it to mean something like Show me what you like so much or show me what you want to do, then Childe certainly won't complain. He's hardly going to be picky about where they go from here.
Zhongli's right, after all. They're not technically in public--and quite frankly, they pay the teahouse staff too well to truly risk any interruptions. The chance of discovery is low enough that they don't need to worry, even if Childe is going to relish this entire encounter and tease him about losing control in public forever.]
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but childe is unresisting. he moans softly against his lips as zhongli threads the strap over and under his fingers, and a hot shiver up the back of zhongli's neck. he imagined this sound before, certainly on nights where the two of them crept too closely in one another's space, on the cusp of this Something but still resisting one another's gravity. he imagined that hum against his lips, childe breathing out his name, and—although embarrassingly—how the harness might feel in his unrelenting grip.
maybe someday he would tell childe all of this. right now, childe is drawing him in by his neck and laying his hand on his thigh. the implication that childe's want runs much deeper, that he might want more just as he did, sends a flood of warmth through every limb. he's known for a while that childe was attracted to him. he's caught him in stares, noticed the blush occasionally spreading over his cheeks, seen him hold his breath or swallow thickly when he comes too close. he hadn't foreseen consummating their feelings this way, but both of them take this in stride, happy with anything so long as it meant they could have one another.
childe draws back and zhongli licks his lips and quietly catches his breath. he opens his searing gold eyes and drinks in childe's expression, flushed and wanting, muttering his desire. all at once his greed comes to a head. show me. though he can think of several ways to grant childe's request, zhongli at least registers his logic. he smiles slowly. he can give him what he wants, at the cost of his own devotion to propriety.
it's hard to give that up, but he's never wanted someone this way before. not this badly.
zhongli pushes himself up onto his knees and shifts over to childe as closely as he can. one of his hands sink into childe's hair and grips tightly as if to hold him in place. his other hand closes around strap of his harness and the pulling it tightly, bringing childe nearly flush against him.
show me, his mind repeats. it's the most beautiful phrase he's heard in ages. his voice is a rumble in response. from here, it may be possible to notice the long points of his canines, on the top and bottom rows. ]
As you wish.
[ there would be bloodstains, questions, alarm from the hostesses as they walked out of the building. those can be dealt with later.
he drags childe up against the table behind him and ducks his head down to his collar. he presses a line of kisses to the base of his soft neck—and without warning his teeth sink in, piercing skin. the coppery taste of blood stings into his mouth. he wants to bite his lip, his shoulder, make him cry out. ]
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He hadn't anticipated this, hadn't ever really planned to act on the feelings Zhongli rouses within him. But now, with the way Zhongli drags him so much closer--with the taste of Zhongli in his mouth, the hard lines of Zhongli's body against his, he doesn't have any idea how he'd thought he could go the rest of his life with it. The harness chafes awkwardly as Zhongli yanks on it, only halfway loosened, and Childe won't be surprised if he finds that it's cut through his skin by now. But his hiss isn't displeased, and he doesn't flinch back or try to fight Zhongli's grip. He'd asked, after all, and he isn't one to shy away from his own desires without good reason.
Though, really, he almost forgets his own request as soon as he says it, so distracted is he by the sheen of sweat on Zhongli's skin and the way Zhongli's shirt sticks to collarbone. But Zhongli's grip on his hair is too tight to permit him to do anything about it, and then Zhongli's mouthing down his neck, and--
He'd glimpsed those teeth earlier, but, foolishly, he hadn't actually braced himself for anything in particular. So Zhongli, intentionally or otherwise, gets his wish--Childe can't stop himself from crying out when he feels Zhongli's teeth part his flesh so easily, when he feels what can only be his own blood rushing up to meet Zhongli's lips. His own hand has slipped from Zhongli's jaw to his shoulder, and Childe's grip tightens to iron as he lets his head tip back. It's all he can do not to jostle the table and spill their tea, but he's barely focused on their surroundings anymore.
Most people probably wouldn't react this way. But then, if Zhongli minded, he wouldn't have done it in the first place, right?]
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zhongli slides the flat of his tongue over the weeping teethmarks, the iron tang of blood needling into his mouth. he leans back to meet childe's gaze (if his eyes are still open) with darkened yellow eyes and unabashedly drinks him in, at the same time sliding his hand from the back of his hair to the side of his neck, hot and lightly sticky with sweat. his thumb brushes over his jaw with something like tenderness, as if childe were a priceless, precious object in his hand.
because zhongli has never seen childe this way before—only in stray or private thoughts, when he had only the vague idea of childe looking flushed and breathless the way he does now. his hair is disheveled, and his collar is haphazardly opened to show the bite over his neck. jagged lines of sweat crawl down his chest and disappear underneath his sweat-stained clothes. childe is beautiful beyond words, more than anything zhongli's vivid imagination could conjure. childe is solid and hot and real under his hands, a waking dream that wants him back.
desire claws inside of zhongli's chest. he could do so much more damage and coax out any sound from him, in every size and every octave, but he won't. they've risked their privacy enough already, and if they go any further, it would be that much more difficult to stop.
zhongli's lips spread into a narrow smile. he brings up his other hand, and between his thumb and forefinger is the compact childe had pocketed earlier, glinting in its golden case. ]
I take it that my demonstration sufficed.
[ he murmurs between them. he knocks their noses gently, teasingly close enough to take another kiss. he doesn't. ]
I'm sure the staff of the Tea House would agree after hearing what we've done. ...Perhaps we should depart once I remove your harness.
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If only it were that simple. If only Zhongli was no more than a fun distraction, someone strong and exciting and, ultimately, easy to compartmentalize. But no one has ever spilled his blood without hesitation only to touch him so sweetly a moment later. No one has ever desired him this way--so willing to let it rest unsaid between them, yet so certain of his choices once the last walls fell away.
Zhongli looks at him with blood on his lips and tenderness in his gaze. How in the world could Childe be anything but utterly obsessed with him?
He stares blankly at the compact, like he's barely registering the significance of its return to Zhongli's possession, or like he barely sees it at all. He feels very much like he can't catch his breath--like Zhongli has his own gravitational mass, and his proximity is crushingly heavy on Childe's heart.
Zhongli is close enough to kiss, again; his shoulder is warm through the fabric of his shirt. Childe stares, unabashed, at Zhongli's lips--his thoughts are very clearly lightyears away. It takes a minute for him to register what Zhongli's saying, then another to actually process it.
Right... the staff are right outside, aren't they. They probably hate him these days, but he has nothing against them--and while he doubts they'd be the first to defile this room, he doesn't particularly want to traumatize them. And maybe he's being presumptuous, but--
Although I wish we were at a more convenient location...
--Zhongli said that himself. Childe thinks a little audacity is warranted, in this case.
His gaze flicks down to his harness, then back up, watching Zhongli through long lashes. They are still so impossibly close--it's a little bit like self-inflicted torture, keeping so still. He has a feeling Zhongli wouldn't stop him, were he to lean in again and throw caution back out to the winds; but whatever Zhongli's thinking about, what he wants, Childe wants that more than instant gratification.
Still, there's a smile in his voice when he speaks again.]
I thought you liked it.
[Does it hurt? Yes, kind of--but Childe thinks that's a minuscule price to pay for the privilege of driving Zhongli to shamelessness and distraction.]
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zhongli's smile eases away. it dawns on him that he had done this—he left tartaglia wordlessly pressed against the edge of a table, dazed and wanting and following his mouth. it's a dream manifested, a sight conjured only in zhongli's private ruminations. he's imagined childe in a multitude of ways: a sunbeam smile from the deck of a ship, a hand in his beside the lotus ponds, a midnight shape beneath him in bed. after a seemingly endless wait, these hopes can now be given form.
childe slowly comes to, eyes darting to the harness and back to zhongli, blue beneath the dark crest of his eyelashes. zhongli has heard the smile in childe's voice countless times before. each time affection blooms inside of his chest, stirring his ancient heart. now is no exception. it's all he can do not to steal whatever's left in childe's lungs for himself (although childe might let him if he tries).
instead zhongli smiles back, revealing the glint of his teeth. he lays the compact on the table and holds the back of childe's neck. after lowering their foreheads together, he closes his eyes and speaks in a murmur meant only for him: ]
I do.
[ his fingers slide again beneath the strap, where childe's skin is still wet and burning through his shirt. the strap is still hot across his fingers. he brushes his thumb over his ribs, following a line of wet, gathered tissue—scars and slices where the harness dug into his flesh. he can only imagine how it stings. ]
I have for too long. That isn't worth your discomfort.
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It isn't so much Zhongli's hand on his neck that keeps him still; rather, he's transfixed by Zhongli's smile, love and danger inextricably woven together. If he concentrated, he could probably feel traces of blood smeared on his neck, and that combined with the press of Zhongli's forehead to his rouses feelings within him that Childe hadn't known he was still capable of.
(It makes sense, he supposes, that Zhongli wouldn't really be interested in a normal human. But a part of him can't help wondering if Zhongli knows what he's getting into here, with someone like him. But that's a concern for another time.)
Predictably, he makes a dismissive noise, something between a laugh and a scoff.]
I've had a lot worse than a little discomfort, xiansheng. [They both know that's an understatement.] It doesn't bother me.
[It doesn't occur to him that it might bother Zhongli; for his part, he simply assumes that Zhongli's concern for his comfort was just a cover for being distracted and turned on.]
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his shirt sticks beneath it. how long had he quietly imagined childe's shape, how it would feel under his fingers? ]
It would be foolish to assume you hadn't.
[ this wasn't about childe's endurance. a part of him isn't surprised that childe would give into this simply because zhongli liked it. childe has always been generous, especially to him. ]
I do not wish to cause you any more undue pain.
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He could insist, just for the sake of being contrary. But he's still kind of reeling from the press of Zhongli's teeth against his neck, and it's difficult to dredge up his usual wit. And, well. The less he argues, the sooner they can get out of here. It's in his best interests to let Zhongli do what he wants.]
Alright, if you insist.
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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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that isn't all they're here for. his muscle tenses beneath the childe's fingertips. anticipation curls in his stomach where it laid dormant. childe would briefly feel the sharpened canines in his mouth, grown to points behind his lips.
zhongli had his (correct) assumptions about the nature of their relationship, but he keeps them to himself. what they're doing now only concerns their surface-level attraction—the age-old thrum of tension between their bodies, reaching into the pitch blackness, finding out what would happen if they came too close together. for all zhongli cares about the art of conversation (aka hearing his own voice), he wouldn't let this be interrupted, even by himself.
zhongli's freed hand smooths over the curve of childe's back and draws him in, flattening their chests together. whether or not childe stumbles, zhongli walks him against the bare spread of wall nearby, crowding childe against it and muffling the crack of childe's head against the wall with his hand. their bodies crush together and zhongli kisses him hard, savoring, breathing him in.
his hand slides from behind childe's head to the base of his neck. his thumb runs against the dried flecks of blood where his bite still festered. the wound gently reopens underneath it, painting a smear of red over his skin.
zhongli finally breaks the line of their kisses. mouth still hovering close, his sharp, golden eyes open and settle on childe. he cleans his lips and murmurs: ]
In the tea house... Would you have let me have my way with you there?
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He can't let himself think too deeply about any of this. Not right now. Like Zhongli, the last thing he wants is to break them out of this spell--there will be time to
doubt, worry, hesitatetalk later. Right now, he doesn't care about anything beyond the hard lines of Zhongli's body against his own, the swipe of Zhongli's tongue against his and the warm palm resting on his spine.It takes a minute to catch his breath when Zhongli breaks away; the question makes him lean his head back and laugh even as his pulse soars.]
Let you? I think I should be offended. [He very clearly does not; his tone is mischief personified, sweetness and bite blended together like potent wine. His voice is steady aside from that hint of breathlessness, but he dips his head back down and watches Zhongli's lips intently, a betrayal of his easy humor. Any possible traces of balm have long since rubbed away, but Zhongli's mouth is so beautifully damp and shiny.] Do I seem so passive?
[He punctuates his question by dragging Zhongli closer, lifting his hips from the wall to press them forward, against Zhongli's. Between the teahouse and their kisses just now (and, y'know, the fact that it's Zhongli), it's probably no surprise that he's already half-hard. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against Zhongli's and dropping his voice to a low murmur.]
If we'd gone any farther in there, it would've been just as much me as you.
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to answer those pointed looks at his lips, zhongli takes another long, deep kiss from his mouth. he savors the soft give of his lips, the resistance in his teeth, the thump of childe's head against the wall as zhongli stops beseeching and finally takes what he wants.
when he draws back, there's only a small hint of breathlessness. he smiles. ]
You seemed content to keep still once I sunk my teeth into you.
[ he punctuates this with a slow, tight roll of his hips. zhongli is just as hard, and the drag of their cocks runs electric through his hips. his eyes are incandescent in their abject want, boring deeply. he remembers the dazed, beautiful look in those eyes.
he makes quick work of the remaining buttons of childe's shirt. ]
You were breathless. I've never seen you in such a state. ...I want for you to look at me that way again.
no subject
Not to mention his words. Childe's always been weak to the way he speaks--smooth and elegant, like a storyteller. He'd had no idea what it would be like, pairing that with such blatant, abject desire. For someone who laughs in the face of his own limits, it's dangerously intoxicating.
The air indoors is so much cooler on his skin than it was outside, but that hardly matters when he feels warm all over again. He can't be mad, though, when it's Zhongli's doing. Even the slight ache from the marks left by his harness have faded from his attention by now.]
You caught me by surprise. [That playful lilt is still there--he sounds as confident as ever, despite the clear want he isn't trying to hide in the slightest. He lets his hands slip up beneath Zhongli's shirt, exploring by touch for now.] It won't happen again.
[An incredibly predictable challenge, judging from his grin. But he can't help it--give him a sleeping beast, and he'll tear heaven and earth apart just to find a stick to poke it with. They both know he can't hope to win against Zhongli, not if Zhongli actually puts his mind to something, but that's the whole fun of it--and besides, Zhongli deserves to do a little work for what he wants, in Childe's completely, totally, definitely unbiased opinion.]
we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight
but zhongli has the rest of the evening for this. for the moment, he's drinking in that mischievous grin, knowing that response is meant to goad him. show me, childe whispered before, and zhongli hears it again. and yes, he'll work for it.
the buttons on childe's pants are fingered open. zhongli smiles, sultry and warm, and he leans forward to close childe's smiling lips with his own. his hands fall to childe's hips, over his ass, and he pulls him in as he grinds forward. he pushes his tongue into his mouth, to silence him and taste everything again.
he shouldn't reward this behavior, but zhongli can't help it. there's too much of childe suddenly within his reach—so many imagined things that can finally take root in reality, more visceral than even an ancient god's imagination can conjure. the way childe grins at him makes him crumble.
he draws back, cleans his lips, and smiles again. his gaze bores into childe's, endlessly hungry. ]
I see. Then I will only have to surprise you once more. I believe I can manage it.
[ his teeth glint between his lips. he'll drag childe to his bedroom eventually. their night will end with the two of them naked and sprawled on his bed, come stuck to their skin and in wet strings over the sheets. the comforter and pillows will be unceremoniously pulled and pushed and thrown over the bedside. their bodies will be covered in bites and scrapes and bruises, well-loved and worshipped. zhongli will look like morax again, having given up on hiding it long before. (he gave up on hiding many things that night. what's one more?)
right now, he kisses childe again as if to devour him whole and guides them back into what they already started. ]