[ childe's laughter and mischievous smiles will be the death of him. his words slightly soften zhongli's sharp edges, sentiment overwhelming his facetious irritation. zhongli would never have enough of childe either. he knows that too well now.
fortunately for zhongli's thumb and zhongli sieves his fingers back into childe's hair as he climbs back over him. as soon as childe's body is within reach, zhongli presses his hand to the small of childe's back, drawing him up and against him. childe's come-spattered chest flattens against his, skin hot and slippery with sweat. it's clear what childe is after—rather, what he plans to take—and so zhongli closes his eyes and softens his lips before their mouths finally crush together again.
there's a flurry of feeling beneath his ribs. it feels like too long since they last kissed. childe hungrily kisses him back and zhongli dissolves underneath it, groaning softly. he deepens it, craning his neck and tilting his head to slot their mouths together. traces of his golden blood smear between them, salty and metallic.
when their kiss ends, zhongli catches his breath as he listens to the quiet, desperate rasp of childe's voice. he feels the run of childe's bare knuckles against the burning soulmark at his neck, and yes, it's unexpectedly tender of him, like their fated love is something that he still revels in even now, or even leverage to have what he hopes for.
zhongli couldn't have dreamed of wanting someone so much. it defies all propriety and poise that he's built and refined for thousands of years, toppled like monuments of stone withered with age. childe makes his breath catch, his head reel, his affection run unfathomably deep. he's already recalling the memory of moments ago: childe moaning and cursing and crying out as zhongli fucked into him into the bed, headboard hitting the wall, childe's perfect waist in his hands. his soulmate in every aspect, in and outside of bed, intelligent and caring and achingly attractive and so much more.
of course he wants him again. how could he stay away? and how will he, when the boat finally comes to port?
he gives up on processing any answers. right now his cock is achingly hard and dripping against his stomach, and childe's is pressed between their bodies, hardening and burning hot. zhongli finally opens his eyes to half-mast, and when he looks at childe, his gaze floods with want and affection. he quietly adores every line of his face, every color that came together, all textures and shapes that brought childe into existence and to his table.
zhongli pulls him down for another fevered kiss. both hands then seek down childe's back, over his hips, over the front of his thighs. his fingertips curl into his flesh.
when their kiss breaks, he presses their foreheads together and mutters between them. ]
Lift your hips.
[ he could make some comment, ask childe how he possibly wouldn't fuck him again after childe had worked him up, but zhongli's head is racing. he thinks only about sinking into childe and being swallowed again by that irresistible heat. there's the brief thought to turn them over again, take childe again however he would prefer to receive, but childe's warm weight sinks him into the bed. he decides against forsaking what freedom he gave to childe, though childe is welcome to turn them over himself.
there's also nothing stopping childe from taking initiative. zhongli has no reason to mind it. ]
Edited 2022-10-19 10:27 (UTC)
I would LOVE if dw would stop giving me errors every time I comment
[There are times when Zhongli is completely inscrutable to him. It's not surprising--not even frustrating, really, not now that he knows just how long Zhongli's had to compose his immovable visage. But there are times where he sees, too--where he sees more than he suspects Zhongli ever expected him to. He recalls every look of surprise Zhongli's ever cast his way, every lengthy silence that preceded a question or comment Zhongli had had to contemplate answering.
This is one of those seeing times--except that Zhongli's not hiding anything from him, now. Whether or not he's aware of the naked want on his own face, Childe doesn't know--but with the fervor of his kiss, the strength of his hands, it's unlikely he cares. Childe would probably be horribly smug in his elation if he had the capacity to pay that much attention.
As it stands, though, he's completely of the same mind as Zhongli. His world has completely narrowed down to the small space between them, and his whole focus is on Zhongli's response.
He kisses Zhongli once, briefly, when he gets it--gratitude, or an acknowledgment, or something in between. He settles, then, for a compromise of sorts; he raises himself up as he's told, but he doesn't wait for Zhongli after that. Instead, he reaches down and grabs one of Zhongli's hands, pulling it from his leg. He drags it down, guiding Zhongli's touch, wrapping his own hand over Zhongli's fingers to help him take hold of his own cock. He doesn't let go as he adjusts his hips, as he sinks down to take Zhongli inside of him one more time--together, this gesture says, though it's difficult to say whether it's meaningful or unconscious on Childe's part.
As he'd expected, his body welcomes Zhongli much more easily the second time. He tips his head back with a low, pleased groan; when he can, he lets one hand grip Zhongli's shoulder, the other flying to Zhongli's chest to dig his fingers in. For leverage, in part--but mostly because the idea of not touching Zhongli in every possible way seems simply unfathomable. He could so easily be convinced that he exists for this reason, and this reason only--to bear the full weight of a god's desires.
(It's the furthest thing from his mind right now, but he will not be at all happy when they really do have to clean up and leave.)]
[ zhongli is watching his every move, patient but enthralled. it doesn't surprise him that childe takes the initiative, and he lets his spread fingers brush against his hip and stomach before they're curled around his cock. childe's fingers are still wet, cold and lithe, striped with scars. water spreads between his fingers, wetting his grip as it closes. he can't resist stroking his thumb over the smooth, hot skin underneath it.
childe lowers onto him, the water from his vision making it almost a glide once he's pushed inside. zhongli's stomach tightens again, quietly and sharply inhaling as he's enveloped again. he briefly closes his eyes, swallows hard, and runs his dark fingertips down the side of childe's thigh. childe's grip is tight enough to ache, chest stinging where his nails bite into his skin, but all of it is worth what he sees when he opens his eyes.
his love hasn't left him, but the sight of childe above him, sweat-slick, sucking him in—zhongli is famished and wanting. all marks on his body are hot and swelling, and he can't forget that beautiful mischief on childe's face a moment before, nor the urgency with which childe wanted him inside again.
he presses his heels into the bed and lifts his hips, pushing his cock deeper inside, and the ensuing arousal runs through his body like hot water. he slowly settles back against the bed with a long exhale. whether or not childe follows him is up to his discretion, but there is a torturous brush of cold against his skin as his cock slides with him. it could be so easy to hold childe still above him and fuck him from below, but he won't. not yet.
he works his hand tightly and slowly over the length of childe's cock, swelling and filling in his hand. precome gathers and sticks to the length of his fingers; he spreads it over the head of his cock, the tip of his thumb pressing gently at the opening.
zhongli's eyes are sharp, gold and yellow and red-ringed—the imposing, almost predatory, almost daring eyes of a dragon. ]
You said that you would show me the depth of your want.
[ he runs his palm up childe's thigh and to his hip. he rocks him forward against his cock, fingers loosened just enough that childe's cock slides into his fist. the edge's of zhongli's eyes narrow and his mouth eases into a smile. ]
[Zhongli doesn't even need to say it, really. His pull is irresistible, and Childe's patience has long run out. He doesn't wait, doesn't savor the feeling--immediately, he lets himself settle into a rhythm, caught between the press of Zhongli's cock and the curl of his fingers. Of course he wouldn't favor one or the other--he chases both sensations, relentless in his desire. Anyone else would likely be intimidated by the expression on Zhongli's face, the visage of ancient power; Childe meets his gaze head-on, his own eyes dark as midnight with want.
His fingers rest right in the center of Zhongli's chest--right above where a gnosis once slept. He could curl his fingers, if he wanted to. Unwittingly, at the thought alone, power gathers beneath his fingertips--a subtle crackle of energy, not seen or heard but merely felt. He could tap into his Harbinger might and sink his hand right into Zhongli's chest, the very same thing he'd once done to the Exuvia. Back then, he'd found nothing--a pawn in the great game, destined to leave empty-handed.
But there's still one heart left inside of Zhongli. He can feel it, steady as a war drum. And perhaps Childe could take that too, perhaps he should, but--
--why would he take something he already has?
Instead, he drags his hand up, nails catching on Zhongli's scars, his nipple, his collarbone. He doesn't stop until he can press his fingers back to Zhongli's soulmark--with that leverage, he leans forward again, intent on kissing Zhongli's smile off of his face.]
[ the significance of childe's hand in the middle of his chest isn't lost on him. childe works himself eagerly over zhongli's cock, watches him as is he would devour him, and then zhongli feels that pulsing of power underneath his palm. unbidden, zhongli's eyes glow a brighter yellow, all defenses instinctively raised, but he doesn't let himself relinquish control. like his throat bared to childe's hands, he dares childe to do such a thing, knowing he wouldn't. again: not yet. not like this.
his nails catch and scrape, pain flickering behind the burn. the rut of childe's hips guides his cock in and out of zhongli's fist. with the other hand, he drags his nails over childe's ass, drawing hot streaks down the back of his thighs.
zhongli tilts his chin upward and meets childe's hungry, ferocious kiss. he licks upward into his soft, wet heat of childe's mouth, tongues sliding, teeth grazed. his mark is white-hot under childe's fingers. their kisses are bare breaths apart—a gasp of air before the dive back under the surface. anyone weaker than zhongli would relent to it.
his hand settles back onto childe's hip, where his thumb can press back against his soulmark. elemental energy swells under the pad of his finger, rushing to meet the power of geo that beats through his blood—magnetite, hematite, lodestone, the irresistible gather and cling of fragments under a single surface. the shape of the soulmark shifts, pulled into that telltale, glowing diamond shape.
zhongli is the first to drag his mouth away from childe's. he licks away the line of spit crawling from the edge of his mouth. again, he groans softly onto his cheek. ]
Ajax.
[ My Ajax, he nearly says. he resists it, the words clotting his mouth. they had said it in everything except words. that they are soulmates, that zhongli would willingly acquiesce to being childe's alone, didn't mean that childe would do the same. he won't presume ownership where there may not be any. he knows childe better than to assume that. this is enough, he tells himself. ]
[Zhongli doesn't say it, but Childe hears it anyway. He's always been good at reading between the lines, hearing what goes unsaid. "Mine" is clear in the rasp of Zhongli's voice, the sting of his nails. For Childe, "yours" doesn't need to be spoken either--it's said in the way Geo surges through his body, lighting up long-dampened nerves and intertwining with his own affinities. "I love you" doesn't leave his lips in the common tongue--instead, it manifests in broken cries, in Abyss-tainted Hydro coalescing like an ocean eddy at Zhongli's soulmark.
He doesn't have the power to change the shape of Zhongli's mark, but he doesn't need to. It's already his. Not for the first time, Childe's shown too much of himself to Zhongli too quickly.
And maybe the same could be said for the way he's acted tonight, too. The way he's acting now--walls down as far as they can go, his rough edges laid bare in the punishing pace he sets, the way he turns fangs and claws on the man beneath him. But he can do this, with Zhongli. He can give himself fully to the ferocity within his heart and still come out of it intact. Zhongli has seen Childe-Tartaglia-Ajax, has known him, and wants him anyway. And more than Skirk, more than the Tsaritsa, even more than the Traveler, Childe can trust him. He can be himself--too violent, too complicated, too much--and Zhongli will not crumble. He will stay as steady as a lighthouse in a storm for as long as Childe is alive to seek him: warm, welcoming, safe.]
Zhongli, Zhongli-- [It's supposed to be a warning. There are more words behind Zhongli's name, somewhere, probably. But it's too late. Zhongli's cock hits him just right, and between that and the slick roughness of his fingers, Childe is gone, incandescent. His hips jerk, stuttering, as all his senses zero in on ecstasy--dimly, he can tell he's spilling over Zhongli's fingers and onto his stomach, but he doesn't have the capacity to process it. He does, however, clamp his knees at Zhongli's hips, as if instinctively, preemptively defying any attempt Zhongli might make to pull him off or pull out of him.
He'll probably (jokingly) regret it later, but the message is clear nonetheless: He wants to feel Zhongli find his own pleasure, just like this.]
[ it's the sensible, necessary, albeit painstakingly difficult thing to draw himself away and come outside of childe. zhongli would be the one to adhere to it, the order against childe's recklessness, even in the throes of passion. he should be, but childe begs his name into his ear and robs him of his good sense—and all other senses with it.
childe, shining with sweat, bitten and bruised, orange hair pasted and curled to his forehead and cheeks, sucking him in, greedy and beautiful—zhongli can feel when his cock pushes against the right spot. childe's suddenly ruts against him, shuddering all through his body, and his rattling outcry rings in zhongli's ears. he registers the come that paints his stomach chest fingers. almost without thinking, his fist tightens and quickens its pace.
he soaks in every moment of childe's delirious pleasure. his hips roll upward, resisting his own orgasm as he pushes forcefully against his prostate. mine, his want says again, reaching for childe, childe, childe. his cock swells again, searingly hot, hard enough that it hurts. no matter where he may go or who he may find, he is my soulmate. i love him, and he is only mine.
childe traps him between his shaking thighs. as if answering him, he wordlessly demands as he'd done so many times through the evening: I won't let you hold back and I'll never forgive you and I want everything, anything and Together. zhongli is enraptured, hearing every word through his aching want. he has no other thought but to concede.
his grip locks tightly over childe's hip, and the harsh, burning glow of his soulmark bleeds into the golden yellow of his fingertip. instinctively, irresistibly, he forces childe down onto his cock as his hips strike upward, heels pushed again into the bed for leverage, burying deeply inside of him.
that swirling, silken heat tightens around him. he groans and tightly shuts his eyes, all other senses lost. the knot of pleasure between his legs finally comes undone and rips through him. his release pours out of him in ropes, viscous and hot, gathering at the head of his cock and filling between walls of spasming muscle. ]
[It's a lucky thing that Zhongli follows him so closely. It's been a long time since he's felt so over-sensitive; not since those first days as a Harbinger, when he'd fought to tame the electric power he now calls his own. Zhongli's power threads through him in the same way, electric-hot and nigh overwhelming. If not for Childe's sheer resilience, it would be, ironically, too much. But it's exactly what Childe wants--for his own orgasm to crash against Zhongli's the way ocean waves meet sandy beaches, beautifully inseparable.
Zhongli's grip on him is iron-tight; Childe twists and jerks above him to no avail, and really, that shouldn't be as arousing as it is. But he can't help it. Zhongli's effortless strength is one of his most attractive qualities--here, with both of them overcome by pleasure, Childe is powerless against the way it makes him feel.
For as loud as he'd been earlier, he's quiet as he catches his breath, sweat-soaked and trembling with aftershocks where he's perched atop Zhongli. He's somehow ended up with one hand planted back on Zhongli's chest for balance--it's the only thing stopping him from slumping forward onto Zhongli, and he keeps himself upright through sheer force of will.
So soft, Scaramouche had said about him once, disgusted to see him sharing an affectionate parting kiss with an old fling. He'd gotten in trouble because of her, years after they'd moved on from each other. Deserters were not to be shown mercy, and he'd been assigned executions for a month after he'd tried to spare her children the death of their mother.
(She'd died anyway, he'd learned later. For those who've only ever known the Fatui, exile is not truly a kindness.)
Ah, but... this is different, isn't it?These aren't the icy halls of Zapolyarny Palace. He isn't here as Tartaglia anymore--never really was, even when he'd come for this flimsy excuse of a mission.
No, this is Liyue. Warm, loving, enduring Liyue. And Zhongli... Zhongli wants Ajax just as much as he wants Tartaglia and Childe. He'd said so both with and without words; the proof of Zhongli's desire is all over him, inside of him. The more Childe settles back into his own skin, the more apparent it becomes.
This is more than love; this is knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is where the other half of his soul has been all along.
So, slowly, he lets his arm bend--lets his hand slide forward, so that he can lower himself down and rest on Zhongli's chest. His mind is still pleasantly foggy, and a wonderful sort of exhaustion spreads through him as soon as he allows himself to truly relax. It's going to get uncomfortable if he stays like this for too long, but right now, Zhongli is still pleasantly warm beneath and inside him.]
[ zhongli sinks back into the mattress as the force of his orgasm finally melts away. the air is hot and damp around them, sticking in every crease of their skin. his hands loosen and rest lightly over the knobs of childe's hips. the glowing yellow of his fingertips have faded, a dim light in a dense fog. the air is full of their rasping, uneven breaths. zhongli registers the (light but solid) weight of childe around his hips and pressed to the center of his heaving chest.
when he raises his eyes to childe again, he watches him with the gaze of the man he met, measured and calm, ringed in gold and vermillion. they're not glowing, but his gaze is still steeped in his adoration. when childe lowers against him, zhongli accepts it like he'd been waiting to hold him—and he was. his arm folds around his waist, and his other hand—the clean one—closes over the hand at his chest. his thumb gently strokes along the joint of childe's finger with gentle affection, over and over.
he's still warm inside of childe, but he makes no move to pull away even as he slowly softens. there's come flattened between their bodies, blood dried and flecked and beading in several places. their skin is slippery, running with sweat. they're perfect this way, two halves made whole. their soulmarks hum where their skin meets, as if finally content. ajax is perfect beyond measure.
he tilts his head and brushes his lips past the curls of childe's hair to kiss beneath his hairline. ]
I'm beginning to see the merit in your argument.
[ he murmurs, his lips curling in a smile. ]
Perhaps we should wait here until the ship's passengers clear out into the Harbor.
[What tension the orgasm didn't clear from him is soothed away by Zhongli's touch. Not just the gentle motion of his thumb; as much as he enjoys that and keeps his hand still for it, it's the sort of fragile tenderness he doesn't yet know how to handle. The affection it rouses in his heart is skittish, still. No--it's the way Zhongli's arm rests solidly around him, the way their skin sticks in some places and slides in others, the scent of sex and earth and divine humanity that Childe picks up on when he lays his head on Zhongli's shoulder. These, more than anything else, are the elements that ease the last of his lingering reservations--the ones he is barely even consciously aware of.
He could fall asleep like this. It's the height of folly, to be so trusting.
Oh well. There are worse ways to die.
Zhongli's words startle a laugh out of him; he wants to lift his head and catch Zhongli's eye, but he's too comfortable to move, so he just presses his smile to the crook of Zhongli's neck instead.]
I do have a Hydro vision, you know. [He can make them... well. Maybe not decent, but halfway there. He can't do anything about all the hickeys and bruises and scratches, but that was kind of the point.
The kiss makes the back of his neck tingle; if his skin weren't already flushed, he suspects he'd be blushing, even though that makes no sense at all. Wow. That's embarrassing.] But hey, who am I to argue with the wisdom of a god?
Normally you'd be quick to challenge one of my kind.
[ he could tease a little, say that he must have exhausted the indomitable eleventh harbinger, but he knows what would happen if he said that. he won't ruin this moment—the first of its kind, sweet and serene, meant only for him and his other half. there's no need for zhongli to sleep, but he can choose to. even with a harbinger's smile drawn up against his pulse, he could choose to do it here and have no regrets.
this isn't a harbinger. this is tartaglia, childe, and now only his ajax.
he speaks softly against his forehead, eyes still drawn closed. ]
I'll admit that this has less to do with wisdom or reason. I would simply like to be here with you for as long as time allows.
[Zhongli's not wrong... Childe muffles a laugh and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "extenuating circumstances." Apparently not even banging a god twice in one evening can make him less annoying, incredible. In his defense, he did warn Zhongli.
That gentle sincerity quiets him, though. His grin doesn't fade, but it softens; he's glad, now, that he didn't lift his head to look at Zhongli's face. He feels too wrung out to handle the open devotion he would surely see in those Cor Lapis eyes.]
Mm. [A soft agreement; regardless of how out of his depth he is in all of this, he doesn't want to lose the moment either. It doesn't matter that they'll (probably, he assumes, he hopes) go home together once they return to land, that this won't end beyond the walls of this tiny room; right now, there is nowhere else he'd rather be.
It was never a question of whether or not he wants to be be with Zhongli. He isn't afraid to acknowledge that.
He's quiet for a little while--not sleeping, just... resting. Basking. But eventually--]
If you'd known we were--y'know. [Ah. The word "soulmate" still sticks in his mouth. He'll have to get used to it in his head first, it seems.] Would you still have come out tonight?
[This, fortunately, lacks the same weight as would you have trusted me with your plan?--a question he will never ask. This question, though, has no stakes attached. Childe already knows that he would never have sent that invitation if he'd known what they truly were to each other; it's a safely impossible hypothetical, so he's free to be curious.]
[ zhongli was duly warned, and he still doesn't see childe as annoying at all, unfortunately. when childe laughs softly against his neck, he only smiles back, flashing his teeth. he revels in that laughter more deeply than he ever has before. it's cute. and it tickles.
zhongli basks in this too, deciding that silence is golden. there's a quiet language in lying with one another like this—something he'd never guessed they would share. at some point, his eyes draw closed. childe's heart beats against his chest, past the roughness of his scars.
the question is a little surprise. he opens his eyes again, considering the ceiling as he answers. ]
Given that you'd referred to this night as a 'date,' I may have assumed that you knew as well. That aside... I don't see why I wouldn't.
[ he says it inquisitively, waiting to see if childe believed otherwise. ]
[Zhongli stop being charmed by your menace of a boyfriend]
I say a lot of things you shouldn't take at face value, xiansheng. [The nickname is back... but Childe can't help it, honestly. He's the nicknaming type; even if the term isn't special in Liyuese, it's something Childe only associates with Zhongli. And with Zhongli comes warmth, familiarity, and affection.] Thought you'd figured that out by now.
[He's just teasing, though, even if his normal playful lilt is obscured by his content, sleepy tone. (Even if it's not necessarily untrue, though Childe always has, and always will, favor honesty and straightforwardness. It'll probably be his downfall.)]
But have some faith in me, hm? I wouldn't torture you like that.
[ maybe said menace of a boyfriend should stop being charming!!! ever think about that
childe reminds him of their conversations regarding that night. childe has said his first name before, always followed by his new moniker. he remembers the small flutter in his chest when childe said his name alone for the first time—and the searing heat when he heard it sighed in the middle of their sex. he decides that he loves his name in childe's mouth no matter what shape it takes. ]
It would be difficult not to draw that conclusion. I would have to confirm it, of course.
[ another au where zhongli would make childe lift his shirt. can't ever have too many of those!
zhongli can hear that sleepiness. he noses again into childe's hair and presses his lips to his head. he breathes in—soap, salt, smoke—and lazily smooths his fingers up and down a small length of childe's back. ]
Even if you hadn't known, I would have come. ...It would have been interesting to see your reaction if your mark suddenly appeared.
[Oh, that's dangerous. The mild discomfort of sticky, cooling skin pales in comparison to the soothing motions of Zhongli's fingers.]
Confirm it, huh... [He's very clearly drowsy, but he's fighting the urge to doze off. Whether it's a force of habit or just stubbornness because he wants to keep talking is anybody's guess.] And how would you have pulled that off?
[ zhongli has heard childe's lazy, sleepy voice before: at midnight hours on a drunken evening, or when childe is spread over his couch during a quiet and golden afternoon. it's sweeter now, knowing that zhongli had been the cause of it. ]
By searching for evidence, if I'm given the opportunity to do so.
[ he flirts back, good idea or not.
unfortunately, they can't stay this way while childe is sleeping. both of his hands smooth down and grip firmly on childe's hips. he draws out of childe with a soft exhale, shocked lightly with cold and sticking with come.
after that, his hand smooths up his back again, returning to its rhythm. ]
[Whatever else he would've said is lost to a hiss of complaint as Zhongli slides out of him. Now he's all gross and uncomfortable... why is he the only one who has to pay the price for this, huh? What's fair about that? Nevermind that he's the one who demanded Zhongli come inside him. Listen. IT JUST AIN'T FAIR.
But with some insincere grumbling, he shifts around slightly, until he settles at Zhongli's side with one leg thrown over Zhongli's. His hand finds its place back on Zhongli's chest, a wordless request for Zhongli to resume his gentle touches.
Someday, he'll be able to ask for such things directly. For now, though, he hums noncommittally, even as he closes his eyes.]
Don't want to. [Well, at least he's not claiming he's not tired.] Wanna keep talking to you.
[ you're the one with the hydro vision childe!!! your quick fix is right there
childe settles at his side and zhongli keeps an arm slung comfortably around his shoulders. he settles his hand again over the one at his chest, understanding even wordlessly that this is childe's invitation. he's been around humans long enough to make educated guesses about their body language.
he raises childe's hand and presses those fingers to his smiling mouth—one kiss over the nails, another at the underside of his fingers. after that, he settles his hand back against his chest.
he remembers that spark in childe's fingers only moments before. this time, he presses childe's palm where his old heart drums steadily against it.
earlier, childe had the inclination to sink his hand inside and take it for himself. zhongli holds his hand against his beating heart as if to show him: this is yours. this is where i keep it safe for you. ]
We'll speak as much as much as you'd like when you wake. I will be here.
It's tempting to hold onto his stubbornness. He could do it, he knows; it would take nothing at all to tap into his energy reserves, to shed this drowsiness and do whatever he pleased instead. Zhongli would probably be exasperated with him, but that's nothing new. And Childe--well. There's no shortage of things Childe would love to do with Zhongli, ranging from embarrassingly domestic to obscenely filthy. They probably have a little longer before the ship makes it back to the Harbor. Even longer if they dawdle.
But... he likes this. The soft, simple comfort of resting at his lover's side, paired, for once in his life, with the utter certainty of safety.
Thrills and danger run in Childe's blood. Safety is a remnant of his old life, something he's grown to associate with monotony and discomfort. It's meant for other people, and he's long since stopped wanting it. But the part of him that hasn't let its guard down since the Abyss, braced for threats at any moment--the part of him that remembers each bloodied step he'd taken on the path to Harbinger--that part of him can't resist the promise that comes with Zhongli's embrace.
Zhongli's heart beats steadily beneath his palm. Childe thinks of pawns and soulmates, ice and stone.
Finally, he repeats the same words he'd said earlier, back when Zhongli had guided them here.]
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fortunately for zhongli's thumb and zhongli sieves his fingers back into childe's hair as he climbs back over him. as soon as childe's body is within reach, zhongli presses his hand to the small of childe's back, drawing him up and against him. childe's come-spattered chest flattens against his, skin hot and slippery with sweat. it's clear what childe is after—rather, what he plans to take—and so zhongli closes his eyes and softens his lips before their mouths finally crush together again.
there's a flurry of feeling beneath his ribs. it feels like too long since they last kissed. childe hungrily kisses him back and zhongli dissolves underneath it, groaning softly. he deepens it, craning his neck and tilting his head to slot their mouths together. traces of his golden blood smear between them, salty and metallic.
when their kiss ends, zhongli catches his breath as he listens to the quiet, desperate rasp of childe's voice. he feels the run of childe's bare knuckles against the burning soulmark at his neck, and yes, it's unexpectedly tender of him, like their fated love is something that he still revels in even now, or even leverage to have what he hopes for.
zhongli couldn't have dreamed of wanting someone so much. it defies all propriety and poise that he's built and refined for thousands of years, toppled like monuments of stone withered with age. childe makes his breath catch, his head reel, his affection run unfathomably deep. he's already recalling the memory of moments ago: childe moaning and cursing and crying out as zhongli fucked into him into the bed, headboard hitting the wall, childe's perfect waist in his hands. his soulmate in every aspect, in and outside of bed, intelligent and caring and achingly attractive and so much more.
of course he wants him again. how could he stay away? and how will he, when the boat finally comes to port?
he gives up on processing any answers. right now his cock is achingly hard and dripping against his stomach, and childe's is pressed between their bodies, hardening and burning hot. zhongli finally opens his eyes to half-mast, and when he looks at childe, his gaze floods with want and affection. he quietly adores every line of his face, every color that came together, all textures and shapes that brought childe into existence and to his table.
zhongli pulls him down for another fevered kiss. both hands then seek down childe's back, over his hips, over the front of his thighs. his fingertips curl into his flesh.
when their kiss breaks, he presses their foreheads together and mutters between them. ]
Lift your hips.
[ he could make some comment, ask childe how he possibly wouldn't fuck him again after childe had worked him up, but zhongli's head is racing. he thinks only about sinking into childe and being swallowed again by that irresistible heat. there's the brief thought to turn them over again, take childe again however he would prefer to receive, but childe's warm weight sinks him into the bed. he decides against forsaking what freedom he gave to childe, though childe is welcome to turn them over himself.
there's also nothing stopping childe from taking initiative. zhongli has no reason to mind it. ]
I would LOVE if dw would stop giving me errors every time I comment
This is one of those seeing times--except that Zhongli's not hiding anything from him, now. Whether or not he's aware of the naked want on his own face, Childe doesn't know--but with the fervor of his kiss, the strength of his hands, it's unlikely he cares. Childe would probably be horribly smug in his elation if he had the capacity to pay that much attention.
As it stands, though, he's completely of the same mind as Zhongli. His world has completely narrowed down to the small space between them, and his whole focus is on Zhongli's response.
He kisses Zhongli once, briefly, when he gets it--gratitude, or an acknowledgment, or something in between. He settles, then, for a compromise of sorts; he raises himself up as he's told, but he doesn't wait for Zhongli after that. Instead, he reaches down and grabs one of Zhongli's hands, pulling it from his leg. He drags it down, guiding Zhongli's touch, wrapping his own hand over Zhongli's fingers to help him take hold of his own cock. He doesn't let go as he adjusts his hips, as he sinks down to take Zhongli inside of him one more time--together, this gesture says, though it's difficult to say whether it's meaningful or unconscious on Childe's part.
As he'd expected, his body welcomes Zhongli much more easily the second time. He tips his head back with a low, pleased groan; when he can, he lets one hand grip Zhongli's shoulder, the other flying to Zhongli's chest to dig his fingers in. For leverage, in part--but mostly because the idea of not touching Zhongli in every possible way seems simply unfathomable. He could so easily be convinced that he exists for this reason, and this reason only--to bear the full weight of a god's desires.
(It's the furthest thing from his mind right now, but he will not be at all happy when they really do have to clean up and leave.)]
I KNOW FR i'm back to writing in my notes app
childe lowers onto him, the water from his vision making it almost a glide once he's pushed inside. zhongli's stomach tightens again, quietly and sharply inhaling as he's enveloped again. he briefly closes his eyes, swallows hard, and runs his dark fingertips down the side of childe's thigh. childe's grip is tight enough to ache, chest stinging where his nails bite into his skin, but all of it is worth what he sees when he opens his eyes.
his love hasn't left him, but the sight of childe above him, sweat-slick, sucking him in—zhongli is famished and wanting. all marks on his body are hot and swelling, and he can't forget that beautiful mischief on childe's face a moment before, nor the urgency with which childe wanted him inside again.
he presses his heels into the bed and lifts his hips, pushing his cock deeper inside, and the ensuing arousal runs through his body like hot water. he slowly settles back against the bed with a long exhale. whether or not childe follows him is up to his discretion, but there is a torturous brush of cold against his skin as his cock slides with him. it could be so easy to hold childe still above him and fuck him from below, but he won't. not yet.
he works his hand tightly and slowly over the length of childe's cock, swelling and filling in his hand. precome gathers and sticks to the length of his fingers; he spreads it over the head of his cock, the tip of his thumb pressing gently at the opening.
zhongli's eyes are sharp, gold and yellow and red-ringed—the imposing, almost predatory, almost daring eyes of a dragon. ]
You said that you would show me the depth of your want.
[ he runs his palm up childe's thigh and to his hip. he rocks him forward against his cock, fingers loosened just enough that childe's cock slides into his fist. the edge's of zhongli's eyes narrow and his mouth eases into a smile. ]
Don't keep me waiting.
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His fingers rest right in the center of Zhongli's chest--right above where a gnosis once slept. He could curl his fingers, if he wanted to. Unwittingly, at the thought alone, power gathers beneath his fingertips--a subtle crackle of energy, not seen or heard but merely felt. He could tap into his Harbinger might and sink his hand right into Zhongli's chest, the very same thing he'd once done to the Exuvia. Back then, he'd found nothing--a pawn in the great game, destined to leave empty-handed.
But there's still one heart left inside of Zhongli. He can feel it, steady as a war drum. And perhaps Childe could take that too, perhaps he should, but--
--why would he take something he already has?
Instead, he drags his hand up, nails catching on Zhongli's scars, his nipple, his collarbone. He doesn't stop until he can press his fingers back to Zhongli's soulmark--with that leverage, he leans forward again, intent on kissing Zhongli's smile off of his face.]
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his nails catch and scrape, pain flickering behind the burn. the rut of childe's hips guides his cock in and out of zhongli's fist. with the other hand, he drags his nails over childe's ass, drawing hot streaks down the back of his thighs.
zhongli tilts his chin upward and meets childe's hungry, ferocious kiss. he licks upward into his soft, wet heat of childe's mouth, tongues sliding, teeth grazed. his mark is white-hot under childe's fingers. their kisses are bare breaths apart—a gasp of air before the dive back under the surface. anyone weaker than zhongli would relent to it.
his hand settles back onto childe's hip, where his thumb can press back against his soulmark. elemental energy swells under the pad of his finger, rushing to meet the power of geo that beats through his blood—magnetite, hematite, lodestone, the irresistible gather and cling of fragments under a single surface. the shape of the soulmark shifts, pulled into that telltale, glowing diamond shape.
zhongli is the first to drag his mouth away from childe's. he licks away the line of spit crawling from the edge of his mouth. again, he groans softly onto his cheek. ]
Ajax.
[ My Ajax, he nearly says. he resists it, the words clotting his mouth. they had said it in everything except words. that they are soulmates, that zhongli would willingly acquiesce to being childe's alone, didn't mean that childe would do the same. he won't presume ownership where there may not be any. he knows childe better than to assume that. this is enough, he tells himself. ]
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He doesn't have the power to change the shape of Zhongli's mark, but he doesn't need to. It's already his. Not for the first time, Childe's shown too much of himself to Zhongli too quickly.
And maybe the same could be said for the way he's acted tonight, too. The way he's acting now--walls down as far as they can go, his rough edges laid bare in the punishing pace he sets, the way he turns fangs and claws on the man beneath him. But he can do this, with Zhongli. He can give himself fully to the ferocity within his heart and still come out of it intact. Zhongli has seen Childe-Tartaglia-Ajax, has known him, and wants him anyway. And more than Skirk, more than the Tsaritsa, even more than the Traveler, Childe can trust him. He can be himself--too violent, too complicated, too much--and Zhongli will not crumble. He will stay as steady as a lighthouse in a storm for as long as Childe is alive to seek him: warm, welcoming, safe.]
Zhongli, Zhongli-- [It's supposed to be a warning. There are more words behind Zhongli's name, somewhere, probably. But it's too late. Zhongli's cock hits him just right, and between that and the slick roughness of his fingers, Childe is gone, incandescent. His hips jerk, stuttering, as all his senses zero in on ecstasy--dimly, he can tell he's spilling over Zhongli's fingers and onto his stomach, but he doesn't have the capacity to process it. He does, however, clamp his knees at Zhongli's hips, as if instinctively, preemptively defying any attempt Zhongli might make to pull him off or pull out of him.
He'll probably (jokingly) regret it later, but the message is clear nonetheless: He wants to feel Zhongli find his own pleasure, just like this.]
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childe, shining with sweat, bitten and bruised, orange hair pasted and curled to his forehead and cheeks, sucking him in, greedy and beautiful—zhongli can feel when his cock pushes against the right spot. childe's suddenly ruts against him, shuddering all through his body, and his rattling outcry rings in zhongli's ears. he registers the come that paints his stomach chest fingers. almost without thinking, his fist tightens and quickens its pace.
he soaks in every moment of childe's delirious pleasure. his hips roll upward, resisting his own orgasm as he pushes forcefully against his prostate. mine, his want says again, reaching for childe, childe, childe. his cock swells again, searingly hot, hard enough that it hurts. no matter where he may go or who he may find, he is my soulmate. i love him, and he is only mine.
childe traps him between his shaking thighs. as if answering him, he wordlessly demands as he'd done so many times through the evening: I won't let you hold back and I'll never forgive you and I want everything, anything and Together. zhongli is enraptured, hearing every word through his aching want. he has no other thought but to concede.
his grip locks tightly over childe's hip, and the harsh, burning glow of his soulmark bleeds into the golden yellow of his fingertip. instinctively, irresistibly, he forces childe down onto his cock as his hips strike upward, heels pushed again into the bed for leverage, burying deeply inside of him.
that swirling, silken heat tightens around him. he groans and tightly shuts his eyes, all other senses lost. the knot of pleasure between his legs finally comes undone and rips through him. his release pours out of him in ropes, viscous and hot, gathering at the head of his cock and filling between walls of spasming muscle. ]
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Zhongli's grip on him is iron-tight; Childe twists and jerks above him to no avail, and really, that shouldn't be as arousing as it is. But he can't help it. Zhongli's effortless strength is one of his most attractive qualities--here, with both of them overcome by pleasure, Childe is powerless against the way it makes him feel.
For as loud as he'd been earlier, he's quiet as he catches his breath, sweat-soaked and trembling with aftershocks where he's perched atop Zhongli. He's somehow ended up with one hand planted back on Zhongli's chest for balance--it's the only thing stopping him from slumping forward onto Zhongli, and he keeps himself upright through sheer force of will.
So soft, Scaramouche had said about him once, disgusted to see him sharing an affectionate parting kiss with an old fling. He'd gotten in trouble because of her, years after they'd moved on from each other. Deserters were not to be shown mercy, and he'd been assigned executions for a month after he'd tried to spare her children the death of their mother.
(She'd died anyway, he'd learned later. For those who've only ever known the Fatui, exile is not truly a kindness.)
Ah, but... this is different, isn't it?These aren't the icy halls of Zapolyarny Palace. He isn't here as Tartaglia anymore--never really was, even when he'd come for this flimsy excuse of a mission.
No, this is Liyue. Warm, loving, enduring Liyue. And Zhongli... Zhongli wants Ajax just as much as he wants Tartaglia and Childe. He'd said so both with and without words; the proof of Zhongli's desire is all over him, inside of him. The more Childe settles back into his own skin, the more apparent it becomes.
This is more than love; this is knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is where the other half of his soul has been all along.
So, slowly, he lets his arm bend--lets his hand slide forward, so that he can lower himself down and rest on Zhongli's chest. His mind is still pleasantly foggy, and a wonderful sort of exhaustion spreads through him as soon as he allows himself to truly relax. It's going to get uncomfortable if he stays like this for too long, but right now, Zhongli is still pleasantly warm beneath and inside him.]
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when he raises his eyes to childe again, he watches him with the gaze of the man he met, measured and calm, ringed in gold and vermillion. they're not glowing, but his gaze is still steeped in his adoration. when childe lowers against him, zhongli accepts it like he'd been waiting to hold him—and he was. his arm folds around his waist, and his other hand—the clean one—closes over the hand at his chest. his thumb gently strokes along the joint of childe's finger with gentle affection, over and over.
he's still warm inside of childe, but he makes no move to pull away even as he slowly softens. there's come flattened between their bodies, blood dried and flecked and beading in several places. their skin is slippery, running with sweat. they're perfect this way, two halves made whole. their soulmarks hum where their skin meets, as if finally content. ajax is perfect beyond measure.
he tilts his head and brushes his lips past the curls of childe's hair to kiss beneath his hairline. ]
I'm beginning to see the merit in your argument.
[ he murmurs, his lips curling in a smile. ]
Perhaps we should wait here until the ship's passengers clear out into the Harbor.
[ he's joking but he's also not joking. ]
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He could fall asleep like this. It's the height of folly, to be so trusting.
Oh well. There are worse ways to die.
Zhongli's words startle a laugh out of him; he wants to lift his head and catch Zhongli's eye, but he's too comfortable to move, so he just presses his smile to the crook of Zhongli's neck instead.]
I do have a Hydro vision, you know. [He can make them... well. Maybe not decent, but halfway there. He can't do anything about all the hickeys and bruises and scratches, but that was kind of the point.
The kiss makes the back of his neck tingle; if his skin weren't already flushed, he suspects he'd be blushing, even though that makes no sense at all. Wow. That's embarrassing.] But hey, who am I to argue with the wisdom of a god?
[Childe.]
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Normally you'd be quick to challenge one of my kind.
[ he could tease a little, say that he must have exhausted the indomitable eleventh harbinger, but he knows what would happen if he said that. he won't ruin this moment—the first of its kind, sweet and serene, meant only for him and his other half. there's no need for zhongli to sleep, but he can choose to. even with a harbinger's smile drawn up against his pulse, he could choose to do it here and have no regrets.
this isn't a harbinger. this is tartaglia, childe, and now only his ajax.
he speaks softly against his forehead, eyes still drawn closed. ]
I'll admit that this has less to do with wisdom or reason. I would simply like to be here with you for as long as time allows.
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That gentle sincerity quiets him, though. His grin doesn't fade, but it softens; he's glad, now, that he didn't lift his head to look at Zhongli's face. He feels too wrung out to handle the open devotion he would surely see in those Cor Lapis eyes.]
Mm. [A soft agreement; regardless of how out of his depth he is in all of this, he doesn't want to lose the moment either. It doesn't matter that they'll (probably, he assumes, he hopes) go home together once they return to land, that this won't end beyond the walls of this tiny room; right now, there is nowhere else he'd rather be.
It was never a question of whether or not he wants to be be with Zhongli. He isn't afraid to acknowledge that.
He's quiet for a little while--not sleeping, just... resting. Basking. But eventually--]
If you'd known we were--y'know. [Ah. The word "soulmate" still sticks in his mouth. He'll have to get used to it in his head first, it seems.] Would you still have come out tonight?
[This, fortunately, lacks the same weight as would you have trusted me with your plan?--a question he will never ask. This question, though, has no stakes attached. Childe already knows that he would never have sent that invitation if he'd known what they truly were to each other; it's a safely impossible hypothetical, so he's free to be curious.]
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zhongli basks in this too, deciding that silence is golden. there's a quiet language in lying with one another like this—something he'd never guessed they would share. at some point, his eyes draw closed. childe's heart beats against his chest, past the roughness of his scars.
the question is a little surprise. he opens his eyes again, considering the ceiling as he answers. ]
Given that you'd referred to this night as a 'date,' I may have assumed that you knew as well. That aside... I don't see why I wouldn't.
[ he says it inquisitively, waiting to see if childe believed otherwise. ]
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I say a lot of things you shouldn't take at face value, xiansheng. [The nickname is back... but Childe can't help it, honestly. He's the nicknaming type; even if the term isn't special in Liyuese, it's something Childe only associates with Zhongli. And with Zhongli comes warmth, familiarity, and affection.] Thought you'd figured that out by now.
[He's just teasing, though, even if his normal playful lilt is obscured by his content, sleepy tone. (Even if it's not necessarily untrue, though Childe always has, and always will, favor honesty and straightforwardness. It'll probably be his downfall.)]
But have some faith in me, hm? I wouldn't torture you like that.
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childe reminds him of their conversations regarding that night. childe has said his first name before, always followed by his new moniker. he remembers the small flutter in his chest when childe said his name alone for the first time—and the searing heat when he heard it sighed in the middle of their sex. he decides that he loves his name in childe's mouth no matter what shape it takes. ]
It would be difficult not to draw that conclusion. I would have to confirm it, of course.
[ another au where zhongli would make childe lift his shirt. can't ever have too many of those!
zhongli can hear that sleepiness. he noses again into childe's hair and presses his lips to his head. he breathes in—soap, salt, smoke—and lazily smooths his fingers up and down a small length of childe's back. ]
Even if you hadn't known, I would have come. ...It would have been interesting to see your reaction if your mark suddenly appeared.
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Confirm it, huh... [He's very clearly drowsy, but he's fighting the urge to doze off. Whether it's a force of habit or just stubbornness because he wants to keep talking is anybody's guess.] And how would you have pulled that off?
[Stop flirting and go to sleep, Childe.]
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By searching for evidence, if I'm given the opportunity to do so.
[ he flirts back, good idea or not.
unfortunately, they can't stay this way while childe is sleeping. both of his hands smooth down and grip firmly on childe's hips. he draws out of childe with a soft exhale, shocked lightly with cold and sticking with come.
after that, his hand smooths up his back again, returning to its rhythm. ]
You should rest.
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But with some insincere grumbling, he shifts around slightly, until he settles at Zhongli's side with one leg thrown over Zhongli's. His hand finds its place back on Zhongli's chest, a wordless request for Zhongli to resume his gentle touches.
Someday, he'll be able to ask for such things directly. For now, though, he hums noncommittally, even as he closes his eyes.]
Don't want to. [Well, at least he's not claiming he's not tired.] Wanna keep talking to you.
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childe settles at his side and zhongli keeps an arm slung comfortably around his shoulders. he settles his hand again over the one at his chest, understanding even wordlessly that this is childe's invitation. he's been around humans long enough to make educated guesses about their body language.
he raises childe's hand and presses those fingers to his smiling mouth—one kiss over the nails, another at the underside of his fingers. after that, he settles his hand back against his chest.
he remembers that spark in childe's fingers only moments before. this time, he presses childe's palm where his old heart drums steadily against it.
earlier, childe had the inclination to sink his hand inside and take it for himself. zhongli holds his hand against his beating heart as if to show him: this is yours. this is where i keep it safe for you. ]
We'll speak as much as much as you'd like when you wake. I will be here.
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It's tempting to hold onto his stubbornness. He could do it, he knows; it would take nothing at all to tap into his energy reserves, to shed this drowsiness and do whatever he pleased instead. Zhongli would probably be exasperated with him, but that's nothing new. And Childe--well. There's no shortage of things Childe would love to do with Zhongli, ranging from embarrassingly domestic to obscenely filthy. They probably have a little longer before the ship makes it back to the Harbor. Even longer if they dawdle.
But... he likes this. The soft, simple comfort of resting at his lover's side, paired, for once in his life, with the utter certainty of safety.
Thrills and danger run in Childe's blood. Safety is a remnant of his old life, something he's grown to associate with monotony and discomfort. It's meant for other people, and he's long since stopped wanting it. But the part of him that hasn't let its guard down since the Abyss, braced for threats at any moment--the part of him that remembers each bloodied step he'd taken on the path to Harbinger--that part of him can't resist the promise that comes with Zhongli's embrace.
Zhongli's heart beats steadily beneath his palm. Childe thinks of pawns and soulmates, ice and stone.
Finally, he repeats the same words he'd said earlier, back when Zhongli had guided them here.]
...Yeah. Okay.