[ zhongli takes a moment to register that childe's not answering him.
good. he goes ahead and lays the phone on the desk and starts to button his pants again.
and then he'll go ahead and unlock the door. right when childe has entered the building. almost like he knew.
he'll find zhongli back at his desk, closing up a button on the front of his shirt. (he was taking his time with it, but childe doesn't need to know that.) the bottle is still on his desk, its contents a murky and purple liquid.
he seems nonchalant when he looks over at childe at the door, whether he busts it open or not. he feigns surprise. ]
[In a minute, it'll click. In a minute, Zhongli's lack of surprise, the open doors--all of that will register in his mind, and he'll complain about "manipulation" and "the whims of archons" and all those things that have, over time, morphed from genuine pain into something of an inside joke between them. In a minute.
Right now, however, he's a man on a mission. He leaves Zhongli's office door wide open as he stalks across the room. Is Zhongli standing? Sitting? Regardless, Childe's on him without a word. He doesn't stop to process how Zhongli looks, what he's doing, the vial on his desk--none of it. He simply buries one hand in Zhongli's hair, grabs Zhongli's waist with the other, and slots their mouths together with a long, deep kiss.
Eventually, when he has to pull back:]
Your dinner's cancelled. [Xinyan won't mind, if this "prior engagement" is even real to begin with. She likes him.]
[ does any of this surprise him? zhongli braced himself for any number of things: childe breaking the doors for the D (or maybe a window?), yelling or cursing, a sharp crushing of lips, some form of viciousness at the center of his want. childe would want to make him pay, he thought.
maybe he still might. childe clears the doorway without even stopping to look at anything ahead of him. zhongli has only a moment to stand from his chair before he's nearly pulled off of his feet. childe kisses him wonderfully and deeply, and again all else in the universe falls away in his stead. (how precious is that feeling, when for so long you bore the world on your shoulders?)
zhongli responds in kind after a second of finding his bearings. he rests his hand on his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around his waist, hand splayed against the middle of his back. as childe pulls away to speak, zhongli brushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth, waiting to bring his lips back to their rightful place.
childe, childe, childe. it always feels like a lifetime of waiting, being away from him.
he smiles, sidling their noses beside one another. he murmurs, smiling and squeezing childe closer: ]
Ah, about that... It seems I was mistaken. Dinner will be tomorrow night.
[ he def did not forget or mistake anything. he raises his hand from his shoulder to hold his cheek. his eyes fall closed. ]
[Childe's passion can go a long way. More than once, it's carried him through their encounters, derailing plans with the intensity of his arousal (albeit in admittedly satisfying ways). But in moments like these, he can't help but let himself be tempered, like a violent wave breaking against a rocky shoreline and settling in as a gentle tide.
Partings are special moments, he'd once told the Traveler. But so too are reunions. And Childe isn't one to settle, wouldn't know how to even if he'd wanted to try, but--he wonders, sometimes. When he wants nothing more than to press his body to Zhongli's just like this. When the prospect of homecoming nestles into his heart, and memories of frozen seas melt under those of warm lips and gentle hands.
(In the end, he is not his father. He can't settle down to stay. If not because of loyalty, then because of ambition. Sometimes, Childe isn't sure which hurts more: when Zhongli smiles at him, loving and supportive, or when Zhongli can't bear the weight of his longing, lonely in a way only lovers can be.)
He's still fired up, and he shows it in the way he leans back against Zhongli's desk, pulling Zhongli into him and refusing to let go until he's had his fill. But he does, ultimately, let his passion shift into something deeper than simple arousal. He leans into Zhongli's touch, and doesn't resist the urge to turn his face, pressing a warm kiss to his hand.
At Zhongli's words, Childe snorts inelegantly, hiding his grin in Zhongli's palm.]
You, my dear consultant, are the absolute worst. [But his tone is fond, amused. His grip has shifted from a possessive hold into a warm embrace.] I was planning on surprising you.
[ again zhongli is brought under childe's current, a stone spinning along a running river's floor. they've been here many times, where childe drags them to the nearest representation of privacy and pulls them under the surface with a mere murmur of his name. zhongli has only a little more fortitude—it's difficult not to see derailed plans or late attendances as broken promises—but childe makes it so easy to forget. childe may usually be the perpetrator, but zhongli is the one who surrenders as if he'd wanted it all along.
most of the time, anyway. like now, sometimes it was worth it to make childe wait.
there's a palpable shift once their heavy, hungry kiss finally ends. zhongli's eyes slowly come open, and he watches, enamored, as childe drags his lips into his palm. he traces the outline of his profile: brown eyelashes cresting over top of his cheeks, the purple hint of exhaustion in the inner corner of his eye, the sharp slope of his nose, the pale pink apple of his cheek that shines when he grins.
zhongli leans in and kisses it softly, not able to help himself. even while childe is calling him the worst. his affection swells. ]
I see. Forgive me.
[ smile smile. he trails kisses to the edge of childe's eye, over his brow, nosing past his bangs to the center of his forehead. he's obviously not that torn up over it. ]
It can be difficult to ignore the rumblings about the harbor... particularly when they pertain to a certain Snezhnayan diplomat coming back to port.
[ gay, but it's the truth. sometimes it's helpful to memorize the routes of every ship coming in and out of the harbor too, especially when you know which region your boyfriend was shipped off to.
in one fluid move, he reaches down to the back of childe's thighs and slides him up to sit on the edge the desk. (he'd had the good sense to clear out most things before childe's arrival.) he keeps childe flush against him, hips locked between his legs and gathering warmth where they press together.
arousal tightens in the pit of his stomach. zhongli performed for one selfish purpose: to bring ajax back into his arms, wanting him as much as he was missed. zhongli kept his composure at the cost of his desire burgeoning inside of him—an already overgrown tangle of weeds, a need so strong it ached. childe was in liyue, within his reach. he wanted childe to come to him, but maybe he had been teasing himself too.
zhongli tilts his head and takes a deep, hot kiss from childe's mouth. desire falls through his body like a wave of water, reme he slips his hands up to grasp tightly at his ass, fingernails digging into flesh and muscle. he mutters against childe's lips between breathless kisses: ]
[GAY... it's truly unfair that he can't even hold onto fake irritation when Zhongli says the things he does. When he smiles like that and presses such sweet kisses to his skin--stronger people than he would break under that tenderness, of that he's certain.
Not that he's complaining about the rest, either. He hasn't even been gone that long, really--yet somehow, despite longing for it constantly, he'd forgotten just how good it feels to have Zhongli pressed against him. No matter how much he dreams about it while he's away, nothing truly compares to the full intensity of Zhongli's desire. He can't ever get enough, and it makes it so much easier to fall into his own.
He laughs at Zhongli's words, but that doesn't stop him from matching Zhongli's hunger, meeting each kiss as though it would be suffering not to. He locks his legs around Zhongli and winds one arm around his shoulders, using the desk as leverage to grind up against him. Not that Zhongli really needs any confirmation of how wound up he is, but still. Insatiable, Zhongli had teased him, once about battle and once, later, about this ever-present need--but who started this to begin with?
The door to Zhongli's office is still wide open. Childe could use his Vision to close it from a distance if he really wanted to--but he's too riled up, too focused on Zhongli to care. Besides, Zhongli can take care of his own reputation. Childe's only duty right now is to make sure Zhongli knows just how much he, too, wants this. Wants him. Loves him.]
Tell me. [Breathlessly demanding as he drops his free hand between the two of them, going straight for the fastenings of Zhongli's pants. Typically, he likes to get Zhongli's shirt off and make his way down, following the paths of his scars like a roadmap--but that can be for later.] If I hadn't been across the street, would you have really kept going?
[ the imagined memory of childe's legs locked over his hips makes it all the more gratifying to have them there once more. he supports one hand against the desk beside his hip, the other deftly unfastening the front of childe's coat. childe rolls his hips upward and zhongli bears down to meet it, the slide of their erections firing every nerve. he hums against childe's hungry lips, between their tongues as they seek inside each other's mouths.
insatiable, yes, but zhongli is too. he would normally care for propriety enough to stop them both and close the door, but earlier he made an error in his judgment. even if childe hadn't come to him, his mind couldn't help but conjure every word he spoke. when he said he missed him, he meant every word.
warm breath skates over his mouth. childe's quiet request is sweet and smooth as zhongli nearly presses their foreheads together, lips hovering a scant few centimeters from one another. his eyes flicker down to childe's gloved hands, hurriedly opening his pants. again, his anticipation flares from the pit of his stomach.
how does a lone man rouse such sensations and emotions in a god? childe makes him give into his weaknesses, every selfish and primal need that shouldn't be afforded to one of his kind. then again, he thinks, no other god has ever had childe, and no other god ever would.
he kisses the line of childe's jaw, down his soft neck, over his throat. ]
Mm. Would it not be pointless to answer your question now?
[ he smiles against his skin. he's right, technically. zhongli noses past childe's collar and kisses the base of his neck. he had missed the smell of the ocean on his skin, the taste of salt and sweat. he opens his coat, pushing the lapels of his jacket from his shoulders. his shirt is next. ]
I hadn't planned to... but I will admit to getting carried away. It may have been necessary if I continued any longer.
[Sometimes, he thinks he'd be content doing nothing but kissing Zhongli. There are days, heavy ones, when it's all he truly wants to do--when he thinks he would give almost anything to be this close to Zhongli for the rest of forever. To feel Zhongli's brow pressed against his own and wrap them both in everything they can't have. Safety. Divinity. Eternity.
Those days pass, of course. They always do. But it doesn't change the fact that Zhongli's mouth on his--especially in moments like this, after they've been apart--never fails to warm him from the inside. Zhongli's desire heats his blood and spurs his own passion to absurd levels, but there's never been a moment when Childe hasn't felt his love beneath it.
He lets his head fall back, baring his throat to Zhongli's affections. Whether Zhongli's gentle or not doesn't really matter to him right now--he's missed him too much to be picky.
He huffs out another laugh, reluctantly letting go of Zhongli just long enough to help shrug his jacket off. As soon as he can, though, he reaches out again, nimble fingers slipping past Zhongli's waistband to try and stroke along his cock. Is he teasing... maybe...]
I knew it, you shameless liar. [If he didn't have his hand down Zhongli's pants, this would probably be a different reaction--but as it is, he just sounds smug and amused, pleased that his suspicions had been correct. Stupid.]
[ zhongli's stomach tenses as childe's palm slides down his skin. in response, zhongli closes his mouth over the side of childe's neck and sucks a bruise onto his skin. childe's fingertips slide over his half-hard cock, leaving a warm shiver in their wake. he briefly parts from childe's skin to speak, smirking: ]
When did I lie?
[ he said he forgot! what's wrong with rubbing one out before going to dinner? (he was definitely lying)
zhongli pushes childe's jacket to the other end of the desk, forgotten with all else. he raises both hands to unbutton childe's shirt with practiced fingers. each inch of him revealed deepens the need that flourishes behind his ribs. already the marks from previous visits have cruelly faded. ]
Even if I had, you don't seem to have minded it. Your fury has been quelled somehow.
[ he's more of a greedy wave at high tide than the expected tidal wave. his fingers slide beneath the strap of childe's harness, its warm leather pressing over the backs of his hands. he pulls childe's shirt open, just enough to reveal the smooth, muscled plane of his chest beneath it.
it's all zhongli can do not to adore it again with his mouth, feeling the fanning of his ribs beneath his lips, his heart fluttering madly like a caged bird. he does not need reassurance—he simply likes evidence that his heart might be the same fretting creature in his chest, beating towards childe as if he was its home.
zhongli kisses childe again, deeply and briefly, sighing against it. his fingertips brush and flick and pinch over his soft, standing nipples. he's teasing too. ]l
["when did I lie," he says, as if he didn't just BLATANTLY ADMIT to pretending like he was going to jerk off in this office with no (initial) intentions of doing so!!! Childe rolls his eyes even as he lets his head fall to the side, encouraging as always--he's never stopped Zhongli from leaving marks on him before, and he has no reason to do it now. He glances at his jacket as it's pushed out of the way, but--well. He's not that devoted to housekeeping. He'd rather deal with some wrinkled clothes than pull away from Zhongli, even if he does punish ("""punish""") him by dragging his thumb roughly over the tip of Zhongli's cock. Maybe he'll ruin Zhongli's pants! That'd serve him right! (He won't. Probably.)]
It can always come back, if that's what you want. [He's joking. Probably.
He seems more or less content to let Zhongli explore him, though; he smirks knowingly when Zhongli leaves his harness on, but he doesn't complain or try to take it off. He simply spreads his legs a little wider to make it easier to hook them loosely around Zhongli's, as if there's any chance he might possibly have somewhere else to be. He arches, encouraging, Zhongli's steady fingers drawing a shiver out of him--when he squirms, more of his shirt falls away, revealing partially-healed bruises and a hint of a new scar.
Before he can get too carried away, he pulls his hands away, peeling his gloves off. These he tosses gently over beside his jacket--with that done, he pushes Zhongli's shirt up just enough to slip his hands underneath it, intent on remembering the warmth of Zhongli's skin.
He can take his time looking later--can greet each scar like an old friend, can take his time re-learning every patch of Zhongli's skin, every curve of muscle and bone. Right now is about touch, and touch, and touch--making up for everything he'd been denied on his mission, on the voyage, on the phone.]
[ that hard slide of childe's thumb over his cock earns a quiet hiss and a smile. he can't see childe's rolling eyes, but the timing of childe's ""punishment"" is telling enough. be nice to him :(
childe easily draws him forward and locks their hips, heat collecting where they press against one another. and, of course, he has nowhere else he should be—though there is a fleeting thought to yes, maybe, close the door behind them. at times, zhongli manages to be the conscience of them both, reminding them of their commitments or even promising that they would continue whatever childe started once their plans came to an end. more often than not, especially in the early throes of their relationship, childe would manage to dissuade him.
it's because of things like this, when childe arches into his hands and shudders underneath him. zhongli's smooths his hands down childe's sides, ending at the narrow curve of his waist. childe's shirt is open, pushed up to his shoulders, and before childe can discard his gloves and slide his hands under his shirt, zhongli takes in the view. of course he hadn't come back unscathed. it was his nature. he's (probably) come back to zhongli with worse injuries than this.
his kisses run to the front of his collarbone and down the middle of his chest, over that large scar that carries the prickling vestiges of abyssal energy. childe's hands can't reach his chest anymore, but zhongli deftly opens the buttons of his shirt with a single hand. ]
Perhaps another time.
[ he smiles briefly against childe's skin. he was curious when childe arrived with guns blazing, forcefully kissing him and demanding that their night be spent together. at the heart of it all, the phone call was a harmless game—a test of childe's patience for the fun of it. if it brought childe even more quickly into his arms (and underneath it), that was only a bonus. ...maybe one he was hoping for.
zhongli's kisses the center of his chest. a hand draws downward to open the fly of childe's pants, and the other smooths over childe's stomach, the muscle under his ribs. there's a little roughness to his half-healed scar under his fingers. ]
I see that you had another altercation not too long ago.
[ or several? probably several. it's tough to land blows on childe. he probably blew through some of these fights with hardly a scratch. ]
He does, however, reluctantly withdraw his hands once Zhongli's out of his reach. Zhongli's right, after all; his "fury" was quelled the moment he burst through the doors. Childe's demanding, sure, and commandeering when he wants to be--but whether he admits it or not, he mostly just wants Zhongli's attention. Now that he's got all of it, what does he have to complain about?
Not to say he won't make a show of it, if he feels like it. An insincere lecture about "manipulating unsuspecting mortals" may be in order later, after they've had time to cool off from the sort of desperate passion that only comes with a reunion. For now, though, Childe just rests one hand on Zhongli's head, tangling his fingers in soft locks as Zhongli kisses his way down his chest. His other hand falls to the desk, not far from the glass vial that inspired this whole thing; if he notices it, he doesn't say anything.]
Mm. [He doesn't need to look to know what Zhongli's talking about; he remembers the hits that land. He's busy watching Zhongli's fingers work at his buttons, ready to take over if Zhongli slows or stops.] Rifthounds--they're a little too fast for my bow.
[And they're plentiful outside of Liyue, which makes for good practice but also more opportunities to get hit. He's not immune to corrosion, either; the effects have faded, but the scar will be a permanent addition to his collection.
It's healing, but still sensitive--muscle jumps beneath Zhongli's touch, though Childe himself is more interested in pressing his hips forward, encouraging Zhongli to touch him elsewhere.]
[ zhongli will point out that childe was perfectly aware of the situation when he accepted his challenge. the fact that he wasn't prepared and subsequently lost wasn't zhongli's fault.
was it in childe's nature to accept challenges (almost) all challenges? yes. did zhongli know that? maybe. that's semantics.
childe combs his fingers into his hair, pushing his bangs back against his scalp and loosening his hair tie. zhongli takes his time, tilting his head and relishing every kiss. he missed this feeling—his want and affection burning in his stomach like a hot coal. he'll make up for everything he denied childe.
rifthounds are especially dangerous. his thumb brushes lightly over the length of his scar. beneath it, his skin briefly shimmers. healed 8% of max hp. the scar might still be there, but the residual pain is abated somewhat. ]
I'm glad to see that you have only one deep wound. Not even my shields can safeguard against corrosion.
[ his hands sink to childe's hips. he hooks his fingers over the hem of childe's pants and slowly begins guiding them downwards. he kisses beneath his navel and again on the fabric strained over the hard shape between his legs. he murmurs: ]
Please be cautious, so that you may come back to me.
[ it isn't right to ask this, knowing childe would always rush into the heart of every danger. at least this might show him how deeply he's been missed. ]
He is not, however, immune to the feeling of Zhongli's abilities. His skin tingles where Zhongli touches him, tiny starbursts along a half-healed wound that take the ache with them when they fade. Hardly necessary--Childe's pain tolerance surpassed mortal limits ages ago--but it's... sweet. The kind of thing Childe would never think to ask for, but that he appreciates once he has it.
Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll live long enough to stop being startled whenever Zhongli takes care of him.
Today is not that day, but it's not a day to dwell on it, either. It's easy to get distracted by the warm trail of Zhongli's mouth, and Childe lets his focus drift to that, taking a slow, steady breath. His fingers are still loose as they card through Zhongli's hair, but his eyes are dark, and his gaze is fixed intently on Zhongli. He's not so worked up that Zhongli's slow kisses are cruel, per se, but just like on the phone, he's just about hit his limit of anticipation alone.
At least he still has enough patience to answer Zhongli, even if his heart still wants to skirt around the sentiment.]
Don't worry. I have no intention of dying to something like this. [Which is not what Zhongli was asking of him, exactly, but it's the most honest response Childe can give him. He will be cautious, in his own way--Childe doesn't want to die to a stray rifthound either. Getting taken out by a careless mistake is not exactly the grand showdown he dreams of.
That said, he can't help adding--]
But my death will be on your hands if you don't stop teasing me.
zhongli smiles as he smooths his hands down the lengths of childe's thighs. he revels in the fingertips pushed through his hair, those wanting eyes when he briefly looks up and meets childe's hungry gaze. ]
I'm sure you would prefer to be slain by Rex Lapis.
[ he's playing a dangerous game again, bringing up something like that. he abates this by carefully detaching childe's vision and sliding it onto the table beside them.
by now, childe is rendered in his memory with perfect clarity: every playful lilt of his voice, every stretch of his skin, the grooves in his palms, the creases of his elbows, the his lightless eyes can still betray what he tries to keep hidden.
that image should have been comforting while childe was away—and it did keep him company when he was particularly lonely, like he'd said on the phone. mostly it made the wait a little harder to bear.
the belt and the front of childe's trousers are the next to be worked open. meanwhile, he brushes his lips on the hard muscle over childe's stomach. ]
I want to savor you.
[ gay if true. ]
But I've made you wait long enough, haven't I?
[ his fingers hook over the sides of his pants and pull them down beneath his hips. ]
[If he really wanted to, he could speed this up himself. Zhongli never forbade him from undressing, or touching himself. If he was feeling particularly domineering, he could've even tightened his grip on Zhongli's hair to the point of pain, or reached further down to grab his jaw, tight and controlling. It's not entirely off the table, in fact--but he doesn't do any of that. Maybe he's too indulgent, too willing to let his lover do whatever he wants; maybe he just likes the teasing more than he wants to admit (it's that one); whatever the reason, for now, he lets Zhongli carry on at his own pace.
That's not going to last if Zhongli starts dangling battle fantasies in front of him, though. Were he any less worked up, perhaps he'd quip Is that an offer? or something of the sort. Instead, he just groans, lifting his hips beseechingly. (If anyone else were to try and remove his vision, they'd lose a hand. Lucky Zhongli.)]
Zhongli.
[His tone is meant to be warning, but impatience blunts the edge and turns it into more of a whine--which, that's embarrassing, but at the moment he doesn't care. Zhongli can savor whatever he wants later!! He's got about ten seconds to do something before Childe tackles him to the floor and takes over.]
[ zhongli's lips spread in a smile. embarrassing, but not the first time that childe's said his name like this—and it wouldn't be the last. he lets it warm him from the inside, arousal tightening in his stomach. ]
You're more desperate than I thought.
[ it's tempting to peel the clothes away until he's bare from the waist down, but he can sense the tense, restless energy from childe's nerves. his fingertips are digging in deep into his scalp. he's about to become much less complacent if he waits for too long.
so zhongli reaches and takes the bottle of purple liquid from earlier, uncorking it again easily. he pours some into his bare hand, but before he corks it, he raises it above childe's growing erection, which is laid against his stomach. zhongli pours a delicate line of the stuff down the length of his cock; the fluid is viscous, transparent, and it's cold as anything. ]
I spoke for some time already. I'd like to hear from you.
[ zhongli sets the bottle back onto the table. his free hand rests over childe's thigh, and he closes his dripping hand over childe's cock. he strokes it slowly, thumb and first finger squeezing as it runs from base to tip, drawing out drops of precome. zhongli gazes intently at childe's face, drinking in every sight and sound of his pleasure. he missed this. ]
[It's a good thing someone's enjoying himself. Childe grumbles, giving Zhongli's hair an insincere little yank.]
And whose fault is that?
[It's ZHONGLI'S for TEASING HIM.
But finally, finally Zhongli takes mercy on him. He jerks in surprise as the first drops of cold liquid hit his skin, his fingers flexing where they grip the desk. He lets his head fall back with a soft moan as Zhongli's fingers close around him, but only briefly; like a moth to a flame, he looks back down at Zhongli after a minute, eyes dark with want.]
Nnh--yeah, of course. [Yet another example of Zhongli's power over him. Before they'd taken this leap, Childe had never paid all that much attention to his baser needs; these days, half is mind is always on Zhongli in some way, shape or form. He shudders as Zhongli strokes him, fingers briefly dropping from Zhongli's hair to stroke over his brow, his temple. Zhongli is truly unfairly beautiful.]
Had to-- had to be quiet, on the ship here. But I couldn't wait.
[ zhongli goes on smiling, even as his head aches beneath childe's balled fingers. he enjoys building the anticipation, watching childe groan and twist his hips until he's overcome with it, demanding to be fucked. (or otherwise pushing zhongli on his back and taking the reigns. when zhongli feels generous, anyway.)
heat falls through his body when he hears childe's admission. he crafts the image in his mind's eye: childe somewhere in his quarters on the ship, stroking his leaking cock, eyelids falling closed as he bites his lip and thinks of zhongli. did he hold his breath as the fatuus crossed in front of his door? did it add to the thrill? did he fuck himself?
he presses a kiss to childe's thigh, lets his lips drag as he speaks. ]
Impatient as ever. If only I had been there to witness you... although I might have only teased you more.
[ his hand stalls at the base of his cock and squeezes softly. zhongli runs his tongue up the smooth, dripping underside of his cock. the light vestiges of cryo prickle his mouth like half-melted chips of ice.
finally he lowers his mouth over the head of childe's cock—but he sinks all of him into his mouth, tongue flattened against it, suppressing all urges to cough or gag.
when the tip of his nose presses to childe's skin, he works himself into a glide, sucking and groaning softly as he exhales. the liquid gathers at his lips, trails down his throat as he swallows, but beneath the light sweetness is the unmistakable taste of childe—bitter salt and cream sticking to his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
he won't tease him. if anything, zhongli is hungry to make him come. ]
[Terrible tease, is probably where that sentence was going. But unsurprisingly, it doesn't last once Zhongli takes him in, his words breaking off into a loud curse and then a low groan. It takes every ounce of willpower he's got not to thrust forward, the chill from the liquid clashing violently against the wet heat of Zhongli's mouth, and his grip on the table turns iron-tight. He may or may not break it.]
Zhongli. [If he were a different sort of man, he'd probably be embarrassed by the desperation clear in his tone. But Childe has never cared about things like that, and he's not about to start now. If Zhongli makes him feel good, makes him crave more--what shame is there in that? Besides, Childe would bet the entirety of Northland Bank that there's not a soul in Liyue who could resist Zhongli.
(Except maybe the lesbians. That's up for debate.)
His other hand, the one that had been dancing over Zhongli's face, shifts to rest at the base of his neck instead. He can't look away from Zhongli's face, and it's the sight of him, perhaps even more than the press of his lips, his throat, that draw a deep shudder from Childe's core.]
Zhongli, please. [He's not sure he could pinpoint exactly what it is he's pleading for, at this point. They couldn't have been flirting and teasing for more than twenty minutes, but it feels like he's been wound up for weeks. He doesn't bother trying to finish his sentence, though; he trusts that Zhongli will understand.]
[ if this is the way his desk is going to be damaged, zhongli has no one to blame but himself. he's too focused on how childe's cock fills in his mouth and touches the back of his throat. he's careful not to drag his teeth as he bobs his head.
childe groans and shudders, moans his name, and it's liquid fire through zhongli's golden blood. no amount of his imagination could conjure these sounds from his throat or the tremors in his hips. zhongli's gaze flickers up, and the dazed, desperate look in his cerulean eyes makes his lower stomach clench. he would keep that gaze as long as he could.
ah, they've reached that point. zhongli slows his pace to a halt, tightening his lips as they settle on the base of his length. he slides childe's swollen cock from his mouth and lets it drop stiffly over his stomach. when he leans back, he takes in the full measure of childe as he licks the line of spit from his lips. childe is a miracle: his open lips, the shine of sweat slowly building on his skin, his scar-laden chest and standing nipples, his drooling cock. zhongli's hunger swells in his chest. he would devour childe in the only way he can. ]
Very well.
[ he wipes his slick palm against the side of childe's hip. with both hands mostly clean, he pulls childe's boots from his feet and rolls his pants down after them. as he slips one leg from his ankle, he leans between childe's legs and briefly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh, pricking his skin with sharpened canines. blood touches on his tongue, metallic and warm. he sets his hands onto childe's bare thighs for leverage—warm, supple, tensed—and after he lets go, he cleans the wound with one slow lick. ]
Tell me what it is you want.
[ he did understand what childe meant. he just wants to hear it, because he's a terrible tease. ]
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2/2
[ zhongli takes a moment to register that childe's not answering him.
good. he goes ahead and lays the phone on the desk and starts to button his pants again.
and then he'll go ahead and unlock the door. right when childe has entered the building. almost like he knew.
he'll find zhongli back at his desk, closing up a button on the front of his shirt. (he was taking his time with it, but childe doesn't need to know that.) the bottle is still on his desk, its contents a murky and purple liquid.
he seems nonchalant when he looks over at childe at the door, whether he busts it open or not. he feigns surprise. ]
Ah, you've come. [ finally. ]
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Right now, however, he's a man on a mission. He leaves Zhongli's office door wide open as he stalks across the room. Is Zhongli standing? Sitting? Regardless, Childe's on him without a word. He doesn't stop to process how Zhongli looks, what he's doing, the vial on his desk--none of it. He simply buries one hand in Zhongli's hair, grabs Zhongli's waist with the other, and slots their mouths together with a long, deep kiss.
Eventually, when he has to pull back:]
Your dinner's cancelled. [Xinyan won't mind, if this "prior engagement" is even real to begin with. She likes him.]
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maybe he still might. childe clears the doorway without even stopping to look at anything ahead of him. zhongli has only a moment to stand from his chair before he's nearly pulled off of his feet. childe kisses him wonderfully and deeply, and again all else in the universe falls away in his stead. (how precious is that feeling, when for so long you bore the world on your shoulders?)
zhongli responds in kind after a second of finding his bearings. he rests his hand on his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around his waist, hand splayed against the middle of his back. as childe pulls away to speak, zhongli brushes a kiss against the corner of his mouth, waiting to bring his lips back to their rightful place.
childe, childe, childe. it always feels like a lifetime of waiting, being away from him.
he smiles, sidling their noses beside one another. he murmurs, smiling and squeezing childe closer: ]
Ah, about that... It seems I was mistaken. Dinner will be tomorrow night.
[ he def did not forget or mistake anything. he raises his hand from his shoulder to hold his cheek. his eyes fall closed. ]
Welcome home.
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Partings are special moments, he'd once told the Traveler. But so too are reunions. And Childe isn't one to settle, wouldn't know how to even if he'd wanted to try, but--he wonders, sometimes. When he wants nothing more than to press his body to Zhongli's just like this. When the prospect of homecoming nestles into his heart, and memories of frozen seas melt under those of warm lips and gentle hands.
(In the end, he is not his father. He can't settle down to stay. If not because of loyalty, then because of ambition. Sometimes, Childe isn't sure which hurts more: when Zhongli smiles at him, loving and supportive, or when Zhongli can't bear the weight of his longing, lonely in a way only lovers can be.)
He's still fired up, and he shows it in the way he leans back against Zhongli's desk, pulling Zhongli into him and refusing to let go until he's had his fill. But he does, ultimately, let his passion shift into something deeper than simple arousal. He leans into Zhongli's touch, and doesn't resist the urge to turn his face, pressing a warm kiss to his hand.
At Zhongli's words, Childe snorts inelegantly, hiding his grin in Zhongli's palm.]
You, my dear consultant, are the absolute worst. [But his tone is fond, amused. His grip has shifted from a possessive hold into a warm embrace.] I was planning on surprising you.
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most of the time, anyway. like now, sometimes it was worth it to make childe wait.
there's a palpable shift once their heavy, hungry kiss finally ends. zhongli's eyes slowly come open, and he watches, enamored, as childe drags his lips into his palm. he traces the outline of his profile: brown eyelashes cresting over top of his cheeks, the purple hint of exhaustion in the inner corner of his eye, the sharp slope of his nose, the pale pink apple of his cheek that shines when he grins.
zhongli leans in and kisses it softly, not able to help himself. even while childe is calling him the worst. his affection swells. ]
I see. Forgive me.
[ smile smile. he trails kisses to the edge of childe's eye, over his brow, nosing past his bangs to the center of his forehead. he's obviously not that torn up over it. ]
It can be difficult to ignore the rumblings about the harbor... particularly when they pertain to a certain Snezhnayan diplomat coming back to port.
[ gay, but it's the truth. sometimes it's helpful to memorize the routes of every ship coming in and out of the harbor too, especially when you know which region your boyfriend was shipped off to.
in one fluid move, he reaches down to the back of childe's thighs and slides him up to sit on the edge the desk. (he'd had the good sense to clear out most things before childe's arrival.) he keeps childe flush against him, hips locked between his legs and gathering warmth where they press together.
arousal tightens in the pit of his stomach. zhongli performed for one selfish purpose: to bring ajax back into his arms, wanting him as much as he was missed. zhongli kept his composure at the cost of his desire burgeoning inside of him—an already overgrown tangle of weeds, a need so strong it ached. childe was in liyue, within his reach. he wanted childe to come to him, but maybe he had been teasing himself too.
zhongli tilts his head and takes a deep, hot kiss from childe's mouth. desire falls through his body like a wave of water, reme he slips his hands up to grasp tightly at his ass, fingernails digging into flesh and muscle. he mutters against childe's lips between breathless kisses: ]
But I do not regret what I've done.
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Not that he's complaining about the rest, either. He hasn't even been gone that long, really--yet somehow, despite longing for it constantly, he'd forgotten just how good it feels to have Zhongli pressed against him. No matter how much he dreams about it while he's away, nothing truly compares to the full intensity of Zhongli's desire. He can't ever get enough, and it makes it so much easier to fall into his own.
He laughs at Zhongli's words, but that doesn't stop him from matching Zhongli's hunger, meeting each kiss as though it would be suffering not to. He locks his legs around Zhongli and winds one arm around his shoulders, using the desk as leverage to grind up against him. Not that Zhongli really needs any confirmation of how wound up he is, but still. Insatiable, Zhongli had teased him, once about battle and once, later, about this ever-present need--but who started this to begin with?
The door to Zhongli's office is still wide open. Childe could use his Vision to close it from a distance if he really wanted to--but he's too riled up, too focused on Zhongli to care. Besides, Zhongli can take care of his own reputation. Childe's only duty right now is to make sure Zhongli knows just how much he, too, wants this. Wants him. Loves him.]
Tell me. [Breathlessly demanding as he drops his free hand between the two of them, going straight for the fastenings of Zhongli's pants. Typically, he likes to get Zhongli's shirt off and make his way down, following the paths of his scars like a roadmap--but that can be for later.] If I hadn't been across the street, would you have really kept going?
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insatiable, yes, but zhongli is too. he would normally care for propriety enough to stop them both and close the door, but earlier he made an error in his judgment. even if childe hadn't come to him, his mind couldn't help but conjure every word he spoke. when he said he missed him, he meant every word.
warm breath skates over his mouth. childe's quiet request is sweet and smooth as zhongli nearly presses their foreheads together, lips hovering a scant few centimeters from one another. his eyes flicker down to childe's gloved hands, hurriedly opening his pants. again, his anticipation flares from the pit of his stomach.
how does a lone man rouse such sensations and emotions in a god? childe makes him give into his weaknesses, every selfish and primal need that shouldn't be afforded to one of his kind. then again, he thinks, no other god has ever had childe, and no other god ever would.
he kisses the line of childe's jaw, down his soft neck, over his throat. ]
Mm. Would it not be pointless to answer your question now?
[ he smiles against his skin. he's right, technically. zhongli noses past childe's collar and kisses the base of his neck. he had missed the smell of the ocean on his skin, the taste of salt and sweat. he opens his coat, pushing the lapels of his jacket from his shoulders. his shirt is next. ]
I hadn't planned to... but I will admit to getting carried away. It may have been necessary if I continued any longer.
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Those days pass, of course. They always do. But it doesn't change the fact that Zhongli's mouth on his--especially in moments like this, after they've been apart--never fails to warm him from the inside. Zhongli's desire heats his blood and spurs his own passion to absurd levels, but there's never been a moment when Childe hasn't felt his love beneath it.
He lets his head fall back, baring his throat to Zhongli's affections. Whether Zhongli's gentle or not doesn't really matter to him right now--he's missed him too much to be picky.
He huffs out another laugh, reluctantly letting go of Zhongli just long enough to help shrug his jacket off. As soon as he can, though, he reaches out again, nimble fingers slipping past Zhongli's waistband to try and stroke along his cock. Is he teasing... maybe...]
I knew it, you shameless liar. [If he didn't have his hand down Zhongli's pants, this would probably be a different reaction--but as it is, he just sounds smug and amused, pleased that his suspicions had been correct. Stupid.]
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When did I lie?
[ he said he forgot! what's wrong with rubbing one out before going to dinner? (he was definitely lying)
zhongli pushes childe's jacket to the other end of the desk, forgotten with all else. he raises both hands to unbutton childe's shirt with practiced fingers. each inch of him revealed deepens the need that flourishes behind his ribs. already the marks from previous visits have cruelly faded. ]
Even if I had, you don't seem to have minded it. Your fury has been quelled somehow.
[ he's more of a greedy wave at high tide than the expected tidal wave. his fingers slide beneath the strap of childe's harness, its warm leather pressing over the backs of his hands. he pulls childe's shirt open, just enough to reveal the smooth, muscled plane of his chest beneath it.
it's all zhongli can do not to adore it again with his mouth, feeling the fanning of his ribs beneath his lips, his heart fluttering madly like a caged bird. he does not need reassurance—he simply likes evidence that his heart might be the same fretting creature in his chest, beating towards childe as if he was its home.
zhongli kisses childe again, deeply and briefly, sighing against it. his fingertips brush and flick and pinch over his soft, standing nipples. he's teasing too. ]l
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It can always come back, if that's what you want. [He's joking. Probably.
He seems more or less content to let Zhongli explore him, though; he smirks knowingly when Zhongli leaves his harness on, but he doesn't complain or try to take it off. He simply spreads his legs a little wider to make it easier to hook them loosely around Zhongli's, as if there's any chance he might possibly have somewhere else to be. He arches, encouraging, Zhongli's steady fingers drawing a shiver out of him--when he squirms, more of his shirt falls away, revealing partially-healed bruises and a hint of a new scar.
Before he can get too carried away, he pulls his hands away, peeling his gloves off. These he tosses gently over beside his jacket--with that done, he pushes Zhongli's shirt up just enough to slip his hands underneath it, intent on remembering the warmth of Zhongli's skin.
He can take his time looking later--can greet each scar like an old friend, can take his time re-learning every patch of Zhongli's skin, every curve of muscle and bone. Right now is about touch, and touch, and touch--making up for everything he'd been denied on his mission, on the voyage, on the phone.]
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childe easily draws him forward and locks their hips, heat collecting where they press against one another. and, of course, he has nowhere else he should be—though there is a fleeting thought to yes, maybe, close the door behind them. at times, zhongli manages to be the conscience of them both, reminding them of their commitments or even promising that they would continue whatever childe started once their plans came to an end. more often than not, especially in the early throes of their relationship, childe would manage to dissuade him.
it's because of things like this, when childe arches into his hands and shudders underneath him. zhongli's smooths his hands down childe's sides, ending at the narrow curve of his waist. childe's shirt is open, pushed up to his shoulders, and before childe can discard his gloves and slide his hands under his shirt, zhongli takes in the view. of course he hadn't come back unscathed. it was his nature. he's (probably) come back to zhongli with worse injuries than this.
his kisses run to the front of his collarbone and down the middle of his chest, over that large scar that carries the prickling vestiges of abyssal energy. childe's hands can't reach his chest anymore, but zhongli deftly opens the buttons of his shirt with a single hand. ]
Perhaps another time.
[ he smiles briefly against childe's skin. he was curious when childe arrived with guns blazing, forcefully kissing him and demanding that their night be spent together. at the heart of it all, the phone call was a harmless game—a test of childe's patience for the fun of it. if it brought childe even more quickly into his arms (and underneath it), that was only a bonus. ...maybe one he was hoping for.
zhongli's kisses the center of his chest. a hand draws downward to open the fly of childe's pants, and the other smooths over childe's stomach, the muscle under his ribs. there's a little roughness to his half-healed scar under his fingers. ]
I see that you had another altercation not too long ago.
[ or several? probably several. it's tough to land blows on childe. he probably blew through some of these fights with hardly a scratch. ]
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He does, however, reluctantly withdraw his hands once Zhongli's out of his reach. Zhongli's right, after all; his "fury" was quelled the moment he burst through the doors. Childe's demanding, sure, and commandeering when he wants to be--but whether he admits it or not, he mostly just wants Zhongli's attention. Now that he's got all of it, what does he have to complain about?
Not to say he won't make a show of it, if he feels like it. An insincere lecture about "manipulating unsuspecting mortals" may be in order later, after they've had time to cool off from the sort of desperate passion that only comes with a reunion. For now, though, Childe just rests one hand on Zhongli's head, tangling his fingers in soft locks as Zhongli kisses his way down his chest. His other hand falls to the desk, not far from the glass vial that inspired this whole thing; if he notices it, he doesn't say anything.]
Mm. [He doesn't need to look to know what Zhongli's talking about; he remembers the hits that land. He's busy watching Zhongli's fingers work at his buttons, ready to take over if Zhongli slows or stops.] Rifthounds--they're a little too fast for my bow.
[And they're plentiful outside of Liyue, which makes for good practice but also more opportunities to get hit. He's not immune to corrosion, either; the effects have faded, but the scar will be a permanent addition to his collection.
It's healing, but still sensitive--muscle jumps beneath Zhongli's touch, though Childe himself is more interested in pressing his hips forward, encouraging Zhongli to touch him elsewhere.]
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was it in childe's nature to accept challenges (almost) all challenges? yes. did zhongli know that? maybe. that's semantics.
childe combs his fingers into his hair, pushing his bangs back against his scalp and loosening his hair tie. zhongli takes his time, tilting his head and relishing every kiss. he missed this feeling—his want and affection burning in his stomach like a hot coal. he'll make up for everything he denied childe.
rifthounds are especially dangerous. his thumb brushes lightly over the length of his scar. beneath it, his skin briefly shimmers. healed 8% of max hp. the scar might still be there, but the residual pain is abated somewhat. ]
I'm glad to see that you have only one deep wound. Not even my shields can safeguard against corrosion.
[ his hands sink to childe's hips. he hooks his fingers over the hem of childe's pants and slowly begins guiding them downwards. he kisses beneath his navel and again on the fabric strained over the hard shape between his legs. he murmurs: ]
Please be cautious, so that you may come back to me.
[ it isn't right to ask this, knowing childe would always rush into the heart of every danger. at least this might show him how deeply he's been missed. ]
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He is not, however, immune to the feeling of Zhongli's abilities. His skin tingles where Zhongli touches him, tiny starbursts along a half-healed wound that take the ache with them when they fade. Hardly necessary--Childe's pain tolerance surpassed mortal limits ages ago--but it's... sweet. The kind of thing Childe would never think to ask for, but that he appreciates once he has it.
Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll live long enough to stop being startled whenever Zhongli takes care of him.
Today is not that day, but it's not a day to dwell on it, either. It's easy to get distracted by the warm trail of Zhongli's mouth, and Childe lets his focus drift to that, taking a slow, steady breath. His fingers are still loose as they card through Zhongli's hair, but his eyes are dark, and his gaze is fixed intently on Zhongli. He's not so worked up that Zhongli's slow kisses are cruel, per se, but just like on the phone, he's just about hit his limit of anticipation alone.
At least he still has enough patience to answer Zhongli, even if his heart still wants to skirt around the sentiment.]
Don't worry. I have no intention of dying to something like this. [Which is not what Zhongli was asking of him, exactly, but it's the most honest response Childe can give him. He will be cautious, in his own way--Childe doesn't want to die to a stray rifthound either. Getting taken out by a careless mistake is not exactly the grand showdown he dreams of.
That said, he can't help adding--]
But my death will be on your hands if you don't stop teasing me.
[DRAMATIC.]
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zhongli smiles as he smooths his hands down the lengths of childe's thighs. he revels in the fingertips pushed through his hair, those wanting eyes when he briefly looks up and meets childe's hungry gaze. ]
I'm sure you would prefer to be slain by Rex Lapis.
[ he's playing a dangerous game again, bringing up something like that. he abates this by carefully detaching childe's vision and sliding it onto the table beside them.
by now, childe is rendered in his memory with perfect clarity: every playful lilt of his voice, every stretch of his skin, the grooves in his palms, the creases of his elbows, the his lightless eyes can still betray what he tries to keep hidden.
that image should have been comforting while childe was away—and it did keep him company when he was particularly lonely, like he'd said on the phone. mostly it made the wait a little harder to bear.
the belt and the front of childe's trousers are the next to be worked open. meanwhile, he brushes his lips on the hard muscle over childe's stomach. ]
I want to savor you.
[ gay if true. ]
But I've made you wait long enough, haven't I?
[ his fingers hook over the sides of his pants and pull them down beneath his hips. ]
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That's not going to last if Zhongli starts dangling battle fantasies in front of him, though. Were he any less worked up, perhaps he'd quip Is that an offer? or something of the sort. Instead, he just groans, lifting his hips beseechingly. (If anyone else were to try and remove his vision, they'd lose a hand. Lucky Zhongli.)]
Zhongli.
[His tone is meant to be warning, but impatience blunts the edge and turns it into more of a whine--which, that's embarrassing, but at the moment he doesn't care. Zhongli can savor whatever he wants later!! He's got about ten seconds to do something before Childe tackles him to the floor and takes over.]
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You're more desperate than I thought.
[ it's tempting to peel the clothes away until he's bare from the waist down, but he can sense the tense, restless energy from childe's nerves. his fingertips are digging in deep into his scalp. he's about to become much less complacent if he waits for too long.
so zhongli reaches and takes the bottle of purple liquid from earlier, uncorking it again easily. he pours some into his bare hand, but before he corks it, he raises it above childe's growing erection, which is laid against his stomach. zhongli pours a delicate line of the stuff down the length of his cock; the fluid is viscous, transparent, and it's cold as anything. ]
I spoke for some time already. I'd like to hear from you.
[ zhongli sets the bottle back onto the table. his free hand rests over childe's thigh, and he closes his dripping hand over childe's cock. he strokes it slowly, thumb and first finger squeezing as it runs from base to tip, drawing out drops of precome. zhongli gazes intently at childe's face, drinking in every sight and sound of his pleasure. he missed this. ]
Did you think of me as well, while you were away?
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And whose fault is that?
[It's ZHONGLI'S for TEASING HIM.
But finally, finally Zhongli takes mercy on him. He jerks in surprise as the first drops of cold liquid hit his skin, his fingers flexing where they grip the desk. He lets his head fall back with a soft moan as Zhongli's fingers close around him, but only briefly; like a moth to a flame, he looks back down at Zhongli after a minute, eyes dark with want.]
Nnh--yeah, of course. [Yet another example of Zhongli's power over him. Before they'd taken this leap, Childe had never paid all that much attention to his baser needs; these days, half is mind is always on Zhongli in some way, shape or form. He shudders as Zhongli strokes him, fingers briefly dropping from Zhongli's hair to stroke over his brow, his temple. Zhongli is truly unfairly beautiful.]
Had to-- had to be quiet, on the ship here. But I couldn't wait.
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heat falls through his body when he hears childe's admission. he crafts the image in his mind's eye: childe somewhere in his quarters on the ship, stroking his leaking cock, eyelids falling closed as he bites his lip and thinks of zhongli. did he hold his breath as the fatuus crossed in front of his door? did it add to the thrill? did he fuck himself?
he presses a kiss to childe's thigh, lets his lips drag as he speaks. ]
Impatient as ever. If only I had been there to witness you... although I might have only teased you more.
[ his hand stalls at the base of his cock and squeezes softly. zhongli runs his tongue up the smooth, dripping underside of his cock. the light vestiges of cryo prickle his mouth like half-melted chips of ice.
finally he lowers his mouth over the head of childe's cock—but he sinks all of him into his mouth, tongue flattened against it, suppressing all urges to cough or gag.
when the tip of his nose presses to childe's skin, he works himself into a glide, sucking and groaning softly as he exhales. the liquid gathers at his lips, trails down his throat as he swallows, but beneath the light sweetness is the unmistakable taste of childe—bitter salt and cream sticking to his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
he won't tease him. if anything, zhongli is hungry to make him come. ]
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[Terrible tease, is probably where that sentence was going. But unsurprisingly, it doesn't last once Zhongli takes him in, his words breaking off into a loud curse and then a low groan. It takes every ounce of willpower he's got not to thrust forward, the chill from the liquid clashing violently against the wet heat of Zhongli's mouth, and his grip on the table turns iron-tight. He may or may not break it.]
Zhongli. [If he were a different sort of man, he'd probably be embarrassed by the desperation clear in his tone. But Childe has never cared about things like that, and he's not about to start now. If Zhongli makes him feel good, makes him crave more--what shame is there in that? Besides, Childe would bet the entirety of Northland Bank that there's not a soul in Liyue who could resist Zhongli.
(Except maybe the lesbians. That's up for debate.)
His other hand, the one that had been dancing over Zhongli's face, shifts to rest at the base of his neck instead. He can't look away from Zhongli's face, and it's the sight of him, perhaps even more than the press of his lips, his throat, that draw a deep shudder from Childe's core.]
Zhongli, please. [He's not sure he could pinpoint exactly what it is he's pleading for, at this point. They couldn't have been flirting and teasing for more than twenty minutes, but it feels like he's been wound up for weeks. He doesn't bother trying to finish his sentence, though; he trusts that Zhongli will understand.]
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childe groans and shudders, moans his name, and it's liquid fire through zhongli's golden blood. no amount of his imagination could conjure these sounds from his throat or the tremors in his hips. zhongli's gaze flickers up, and the dazed, desperate look in his cerulean eyes makes his lower stomach clench. he would keep that gaze as long as he could.
ah, they've reached that point. zhongli slows his pace to a halt, tightening his lips as they settle on the base of his length. he slides childe's swollen cock from his mouth and lets it drop stiffly over his stomach. when he leans back, he takes in the full measure of childe as he licks the line of spit from his lips. childe is a miracle: his open lips, the shine of sweat slowly building on his skin, his scar-laden chest and standing nipples, his drooling cock. zhongli's hunger swells in his chest. he would devour childe in the only way he can. ]
Very well.
[ he wipes his slick palm against the side of childe's hip. with both hands mostly clean, he pulls childe's boots from his feet and rolls his pants down after them. as he slips one leg from his ankle, he leans between childe's legs and briefly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh, pricking his skin with sharpened canines. blood touches on his tongue, metallic and warm. he sets his hands onto childe's bare thighs for leverage—warm, supple, tensed—and after he lets go, he cleans the wound with one slow lick. ]
Tell me what it is you want.
[ he did understand what childe meant. he just wants to hear it, because he's a terrible tease. ]