[ 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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
1/2
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...