"What are your measurements?" Zhongli asked innocuously.
When Childe wasn't sure offhand, Zhongli unwound a cord of measuring tape and got to work. Childe had been measured once before, for an elaborate outfit he wore before the Tsaristsa when he was crowned the eleventh Harbinger. The same measurements would be used on his Fatui supplied clothes since. At the lower ranks, he'd wear whatever he was given, castoff clothes of the likely deceased, leaving him to ponder if lingering bloodstains were the last life to leak out of them.
The tailor had been snappy and cold despite his upcoming position, brusquely positioning him to take rapid measurements of various body parts. Zhongli was neither brusque nor cold, his hands warm as he pressed the cord around his neck. He gently tapped to prompt Childe into lifting his arms so he could circle the measuring tape around his chest. Childe tensed when he felt it graze against his nipples through the thin shirt he wore- was that intentional? Zhongli’s calm expression remained inscrutable.
His palms lingered on Childe’s waist as he measured the dip of his torso, and it was definitely intentional when his fingers grazed along his ass and toward his hips, cord encircling him.
“Part your legs,” Zhongli said smoothly.
Childe complied, Zhongli’s fingertips pressing against the inside of his thigh, sliding from the junction of his groin to the point halfway down where muscle was thickest. He wrapped the cord around snugly.
“Perfect,” Zhongli said as he collected the final measurement, ambiguous whether he referred to Childe or the completion of the task. He pressed a kiss against Childe’s mouth, as if giving thanks for being allowed to measure him.
Within a week, Childe had stopped giving any thought to the action. He assumed Zhongli was planning to purchase him clothing (with Childe’s money, of course), perhaps something fancy; Zhongli always lamented his lack of formal wear. Childe insisted it wasn’t practical for battle (and Tartaglia existed constantly on the cusp of battle) and Zhongli was unusual for heading into a fight with an immaculately knotted tie and precisely straightened jacket lapels.
Hot, though. Childe would never deny it was hot.
Zhongli didn’t give gifts with particular flourish. He felt no need to draw attention to the act. One day he held out a box- black, wrapped in a gold ribbon- and explained, “For you.”
Immediately, Childe sensed this was something different. Zhongli watched him closely as he accepted the box. Rather than his usual soft smile upon gifting, this look was intense, unwavering, scrutinizing him down to his core as he unwrapped the ribbon and removed the lid.
“Oh,” Childe breathed out.
“Oh?” Zhongli echoed, slight frown etched upon his face. “If it’s not to your liking, I apologize. We can simply forget--”
“No,” Childe interjected, pulling the gift out and letting the box clatter carelessly to the floor. “I like it. You caught me off-guard is all. It is… for me, right?”
Zhongli nodded, albeit stiff and apprehensive. “Yes. For you. To wear.”
“So that’s why you took my measurements,” Childe mused as he toyed with the object in his hands.
It was expensive leather, dyed pitch black, soft and pliant. It was fashioned into a harness, like something you’d put on a working animal, except shaped to fit a human’s frame. His frame, to be exact.
Childe licked his lower lip. “What did the leather worker have to say about this request?”
“Nothing beyond the price. If he knew who’d be wearing it,” Zhongli took a step forward, “perhaps he’d have some words of envy.”
“Ah,” he said, keeping his eyes on the harness as he thread it through his fingers. “You don’t need to butter me up to get me to wear this.”
Zhongli used his index finger to tilt Childe’s chin up, and they fell into an effortless kiss. Their lips slotted together warmly- once, twice, thrice, countless times. Childe, ridiculously, felt dizzy, as if each kiss sucked a little more breath from his lungs until he’d faint from lack of air. Zhongli pulled the harness away from him, setting it aside for now, and Childe threw his arms around his shoulders. He enjoyed the sturdiness of the god of geo, an unyielding mountain to hold, strong and constant. Zhongli pressed the broad plane of his palm against the small of his back, curving him closer.
Childe wondered how Zhongli had incidentally crafted a human form which fit so perfectly with his; he admired the serendipity of their mouths meeting, Zhongli sucking his lower lip between his, the grazing of their teeth and melding of their tongues. Zhongli tasted like tea, sweet without any sugar.
“Zhongli,” he sighed out dumbly. Kissing him had the effect of erasing any thoughts beyond those of the funeral parlor consultant. It might have been embarrassing, except the only witness to this was the very same object of affection.
“Childe,” he murmured in response, low and molten.
His hands began to unbutton Childe’s shirt, beginning near his collarbone and slowly working down. He didn’t have the hands of a funeral parlor consultant, soft from deskwork. His hands were those of a warrior, precise and flexible, calloused where they held his polearm- and overwhelmingly gentle. It wasn’t such an oxymoron, as he controlled himself with martial skill, knowing when and where to exert exact amounts of pressure. In the past, to subdue enemies with efficiency, and in the present, to make Childe crumble beneath him.
Zhongli parted his unbuttoned shirt, marveling in the slow reveal of skin.
“You always look at me like you’ve never seen me before.” He twirled Zhongli’s long hair around his fingers, part of him wanting to urge Zhongli for more, another part content to bask in his gaze indefinitely.
“Can I not be appreciative?”
“You can. I guess I just wonder what you’re thinking.” Childe tilted his head, hair sweeping across his face until Zhongli tucked some behind his ear.
“I’m partly thinking about how I never want to forget this,” he explained, fingers dragging down his abdominal muscles to the waistband of his pants, undoing the button with one hand. “Mostly, I’m thinking about how you’re going to look once I get the harness on you.”
Childe pulled his arms away so Zhongli could slide his shirt off his shoulders and peel it from his body, hands contacting skin through the entire motion, yet not enough. He pushed his pants down to his knees, thumb sliding over his thighs, before allowing them to drop to the floor for Childe to step out of.
He admired the sight of Childe naked save for underwear, the thin, soft fabric unable to conceal his growing arousal. Childe wasn’t shy about his body- honed muscle and scar tissue were a testament to his warrior existence- and the unabashed display only thickened Zhongli’s desire.
When Zhongli grabbed the harness, Childe stared curiously at the puzzle of loops and buckles. “I think I’ll leave putting it on to you.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Childe’s skin was pale, no amount of Liyuen sun capable of changing that, and the stark contrast against black leather was more beautiful than Zhongli anticipated. Straps crossing his chest emphasized the pectoral muscles, and horizontal ones hugged his ribs and midriff, just tight enough to bite into skin (Zhongli enjoyed the indents, the slight swell of flesh from the pressure) without being uncomfortable. Zhongli was gentle, almost reverent, as he buckled the strap around Childe’s throat, feeling his breath hitch and pulse spike at the constraint against his neck. Zhongli’s touch fanned over his carotids, pressing to feel the flow of his blood.
When he leaned in to kiss Childe, the pulse beat harder against his hands. Childe groaned in dismay when Zhongli broke the kiss, but he hadn’t yet finished. He tightened straps around each thigh, connected by vertical ones to a strap around his torso. Gold diamonds accented the harness, aesthetic comparable to the geometric designs bore on Zhongli’s own clothing- a detail Childe hadn’t missed.
“One final touch,” Zhongli murmured into his ear. He buckled cuffs around Childe’s wrists, and the Harbinger gasped as Zhongli attached them to the thigh straps using short chains, snapping his arms close to his sides.
Zhongli stood back to fully admire the view, Childe’s body criss-crossed in leather, cheeks faintly pink, and his cock already straining against his underwear from the attention he’d been given.
He stood somewhat awkwardly, seeming unsure how to carry himself with his arms secured, his hands idly flexing. “How mean. I can’t touch you like this.” He could barely complain when he caught sight of the wanton lust spread across Zhongli’s face.
Zhongli rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Restrained is an appealing look for you.” He’d removed his gloves earlier, but he pulled them back on; Childe had told him once how he enjoyed the feel of them.
“You like taking me as your captive?” Childe grinned, confidence peaking whenever Zhongli’s desire slipped through his composure. He straightened his back and spread his legs slightly, jutting his hips forward in a tantalizing display, restrained yet not powerless. More accurately- too powerful, and too irresistible.
“Yes,” Zhongli answered, striding forward to close the space between them. “I think I’ll keep you captive all day.”
“Don’t tease me with anything you don’t intend to follow through on.”
“You know I don’t make empty promises.”
If Childe was about to say anything, he went silent as Zhongli wrapped his hand around his neck, fingers cradling his nape, thumb smoothing along the collar. He closed his teeth around his skin like he was taking a bite out of a peach. Childe moaned, leaning into Zhongli yet unable to hang on. It was an exhilarating level of helplessness; Childe was confident in his combat skills even with his hands bound, but he could lay at Zhongli’s mercy.
Or lack of mercy, as he sucked hard at his neck. Pulling off revealed a bright blossom of broken capillaries and lines of tooth indents. He briefly judged his work before biting down again, beneath the first mark, drawing out a long moan from Childe. One hand remained on his neck while his other held him by the waist, supporting his yielding form.
After leaving a cluster of vivid bruises, Zhongli ran his tongue over them, as if to apologetically soothe them. Childe shivered at the wet heat of his tongue lapping over his throat, turning into a nip at his jawline, a teasing kiss at the corner of his mouth. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides. He attempted to press a kiss against Zhongli’s lips, but Zhongli easily ducked his head down to seal his mouth around the opposite side of his neck. The god always had an appreciation for the balance of symmetry. If the right side of his neck was painted in pinks and purples, he simply had to give the same treatment to the left.
Childe didn’t hold his noises back, and Zhongli appreciated his whines as he bit his neck until the skin was raw and pink. His head lolled to the side, and he panted softly. Granting him no reprieve, Zhongli trailed his lips along one of the straps, inhaling the scent of leather mixed with Childe’s skin. He couldn’t push him away or draw him in, only melt into his touch and puff out his chest in anticipation.
Zhongli kissed the toned muscle of his chest, so gentle it caught Childe off guard when he bit down roughly, sucking bruises around his nipple like flower petals. Childe’s head tilted back and his chest rolled forward, his agile body flowing water in Zhongli’s hands. He lapped at one nipple, golden eyes glancing up when he seized it between his teeth, watching the tremble of his shoulders and clench of his jaw. He sucked until the bud was swollen against his tongue, and Childe’s mouth hung open in a moan, and his cock was so hard Zhongli couldn’t help but pass a fleeting touch over the fabric.
“Zhongli,” he said his name in a breathless, desperate way. Childe was Zhongli’s favorite instrument to play, as he learned where to pluck and to press and to breathe to produce the most melodious tenor notes.
His only response was to turn his attention to his other nipple, biting until his flesh was bruised and his legs wavered. His balance was off-center with his wrists fastened to his thighs, but Zhongli’s hands easily kept him steady. With a final swirl of tongue around his areola, Zhongli pulled back to admire him. From the harness emphasizing the contour of his body, to the bites like cherry blossoms blooming across his neck and chest, he was a breathtaking view. Of all the pieces of art in Zhongli’s collection, not a single one could compare to Childe.
In Zhongli’s moment of appreciation, Childe blinked away the haze. He shifted forward, a challenge, nudging his thigh between Zhongli’s legs and grinning as he rubbed against his cock barely caged by his slacks.
“Wow, feel that? You’re so hard just from seeing me in a harness and biting me. Do you think anyone who comes into the funeral parlor realizes how filthy the consultant is?”
Zhongli groaned as Childe pressed his thigh harder against him, and ground down in return, to the Harbinger’s delight.
“Fuck,” Childe hissed. “That’s right, that’s Liyue’s former Archon rutting against my thigh. Horny god spending his retirement catching up on all the sex he didn’t have time for. Have you ever thought about sex in your office? I have. You could fuck me over your desk with the door unlocked and everyone can find out how debauched the consultant is.” He couldn’t weaponize his hands, so he weaponized his tongue.
Zhongli clamped his hands on his shoulders, staring with equal parts lust and exasperation.
“If you insist on running your mouth, I know a much better use for it.”
He forced Childe down on his knees, the redhead smiling dumbly through the manhandling.
“Since you forfeited your position as Archon, I didn’t think you wanted anyone on their knees before you.” He laughed as he nuzzled against the front of his pants. He realized Zhongli had never undressed, standing over him in his dress shirt and slacks, while Childe lay mostly bare besides revealing underwear and leather. The realization only sent more blood to his aching dick.
“I’ll make an exception for you,” Zhongli said, wasting no time in unbuttoning his pants and freeing his cock, guiding it towards Childe’s mouth.
He opened up obediently, extending his tongue to taste him. If you were to ask which was better, the feeling of Childe’s mouth accepting him, or the view of himself disappearing between those perfect lips, Zhongli would say it was impossible to choose, and he gladly indulged in both. He went slowly, at first, allowing Childe’s jaw to adjust and his throat to relax. Zhongli moaned as Childe’s nose brushed his stomach and blue eyes stared up with longing despite taking the entire length already.
Childe’s hands flexed, instinctively wanting to hold onto Zhongli’s hips for balance, yet unable. As Zhongli tangled his hands in his hair, he was in control, directing his cock in and out of his mouth. Childe found no purchase to resist the mesmerizing motions, his mouth the ebb and flow of the tide; he swallowed Zhongli’s cock down to the hilt, and flattened his tongue against the length as it slid out. Occasionally, Zhongli would pause between thrusts, ghosting the tip of his cock across his lips, smearing spit and precome while Childe’s tongue darted out for more.
Zhongli tightened his grip on his hair, tugging as he quickened his pace. Childe made small, muffled noises around the cock fucking his mouth, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as Zhongli ruthlessly hit the back of his throat. He could do little beyond accepting the intrusive length, over and over.
“You’re doing so well, Childe,” his voice was sweet in contrast to his brutal pace.
After a few final, rough thrusts, he pulled out, Childe moaning weakly and gulping for air. Threads of saliva stuck to his swollen lips, and a scarlet flush consumed his face. He blinked the tears out of his glossy eyes, managing a hoarse laugh as he placed a kiss against the cock hovering temptingly close.
“You’re only proving my point, Zhongli. That wasn’t even a blowjob. That was you fucking my face. What would everyone think if they knew their favorite consultant was such a carnal animal in bed?”
Gripping his hair, Zhongli yanked Childe away from his cock. “Hm? And what about you?” He pressed the heel of his foot against Childe’s obvious erection, causing him to shudder. “What would the Tsaritsa think, seeing her youngest Harbinger like this? Or, since you mentioned my place of work, what if I had sex with you in the Northland Bank? I’m sure how beautifully loud the eleventh Harbinger moans would instantly become the most prolific gossip among the Fatui for weeks.”
He forced his heel down harder until Childe was squirming, eyes fluttering shut at the electric point where pain met pleasure.
“Nn… no fair. You’re not supposed to turn it on me like that.”
“I’m not?” He continued to press down until Childe cried out, snapping his eyes open and staring with a delirious confusion over whether he wanted Zhongli to stop or go further. “You appear to be enjoying every second of it.”
He retracted his foot, Childe releasing a sigh somewhere between relief and disappointment. “I am… but you’re not going to just leave me like this, are you, Zhongli?”
“When have I ever not taken care of you?” he asked as he guided Childe back onto his feet, voice soft and fond in contrast to how he’d been stepping on Childe’s cock not a minute prior.
Taking advantage of the closeness, Childe angled his face into Zhongli’s neck and bit down. Zhongli froze, gasping softly as he marked his revenge into his neck. He buried his teeth into the juncture of his neck and his jaw, just beneath his ear, sucking a violently red bruise he couldn’t cover with his shirt collars.
Zhongli peeled him off, but not before the damage was done. Childe grinned smugly, though if he hadn’t desired the mark, he could have easily stopped him.
“There. Now everyone will know what the consultant gets up to his free time.”
“Quite bold for someone restrained,” Zhongli said, taking Childe’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, his self-satisfied smile unfortunately charming. “Shall I remind you who’s in control?”
The corners of Childe’s mouth twitched into a wider, excitable, no less charming grin. “I think I need a reminder, yeah.”
Zhongli kissed him, piercing his teeth into his lower lip until he tasted the knowing tang of blood. He swathed his tongue over the crimson bead and breathed in the sigh of pleasure Childe released. They knocked into the bed, and Zhongli pushed Childe down, looking beautiful, restrained against his dark sheets. He sunk his gloved fingers into his thighs and spread them, admiring how much control he had over his body when his arms were useless, his legs in his unyielding grip.
Childe bit his already nicked lip in impatience. He wanted to rock his hips toward Zhongli in a demonstration of what he craved, but he was held in place. He watched Zhongli unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, skin having grown too hot, but kept the clothing on. His only skin revealed was his neck emblazoned and blotched, a sliver of ample chest, his strong forearms, and his impressive length of cock shiny with spit. As much as Childe appreciated his entire body, the teases of skin made his insides burn.
As Zhongli squeezed his thighs affectionately, he murmured, “Remember, if anything’s too much, just say the word.”
As Childe was loath to concede and ignorant of his limits, it had taken careful recontextualization from Zhongli- telling him he couldn’t enjoy anything Childe wasn’t fully enjoying- for him to be amenable to the concept.
“I know, I know, just, please , Zhongli.”
“Please fuck me,” he groaned, throwing his head back in frustration.
“In time.” He flashed a smug smile in parody of Childe’s grin from not too long before.
He kneeled before him, kissing languidly along his thigh, mellow kisses interspersed with abrupt, harsh bites causing Childe to quiver. Zhongli painted the pale canvas of his thighs with bruises. He peppered his lower abdomen with marks, only quickly mouthing over his cock, relishing in how Childe whined and bucked as he paid the briefest attention to the most sensitive part of him.
His hands clenched the sheets, the short chains of his restraints chiming as he battled against them in the desire to grab Zhongli. He squeezed his thighs around him desperation- in desperation to be properly touched, to be properly fucked- but Zhongli pried them apart and placed slow, sweet kisses near his knee as punishment. Zhongli drew back only once he was satisfied, ignoring his lover’s impatient huffing as he shuffled through a bedside drawer. He, of course, remembered the precise location of the half-empty bottle of oil, but he made a show of his hand drifting over each individual object, sometimes turning them over thoughtfully and humming, as Childe complained.
Childe ground his teeth together as he watched Zhongli’s calculated movements, the careful twist and pull of the cork and gradual dribble of slick oil over his gloved fingers. He kicked his leg out toward him impatiently, but Zhongli simply caught his ankle before he had the chance to make contact.
“Really?” Zhongli raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you not realized,” he began, positioning himself between his legs, hovering over him, “the more you fuss, the longer you will wait.”
“It’s not my fault I want you so badly, Zhongli,” he fluttered his eyelashes in a faux saccharine display. “You’re so gorgeous and your cock is so big, so this is all your fault. And you should definitely make it up to me by fucking me immediately.”
Zhongli leaned over, forcing his index and middle finger into his mouth. Childe made a muffled, surprised noise, but closed his lips around them and licked at the leather.
“You know I love your voice,” he said, rolling Childe’s tongue between his fingers, “but you can be quite the nuisance when you so choose.”
Childe’s underwear couldn’t be removed without undoing straps, and Zhongli was not so animalistic as to tear fabric, leaving him to shove it aside in order to press a fingertip against his hole.
“Is this what you want?” he asked, inserting a third finger into his mouth, deep enough Childe only managed an indecipherable gag. “I apologize, I’m not sure I understand. You have to articulate more clearly.”
Childe moaned around his fingers, low and needy, entire body jerking in search for more. Zhongli chuckled as he finally breached him with a single finger, the slide painfully slow. Unable to speak, Childe sucked on the digits in his mouth and pleaded with deep blue eyes.
A second finger caused him to arch in delight. He closed his eyes, barely satiated but painfully aroused by Zhongli using his hands to fuck him in both ends at once. He loved the scent of the leather gloves, material firmer than skin yet worn down to a certain softness through wear. He loved how long and precise Zhongli’s fingers were, reaching deep into him. He thought about Zhongli pulling out his organs and replacing them with himself, an eternal intimacy.
Zhongli pulled out of his mouth as he drove a third finger into his hole, hearing his cry clearly.
“Zhongli, please, I’m prepared enough,” he panted.
“I think I’ll decide when you’re ready to take me.” He brushed Childe’s hair away from his forehead before resting his palm against his cheek, thumb rubbing against him soothingly.
Childe bit back his complaint, tilting his face into his palm and spreading his legs more wantonly. Zhongli leaned over him, radiating heat, alternating slow and deep thrusts with rapid, shallow ones so he could watch his expression shift. Watch his eyes squeeze shut and mouth part and sweat bead on his brow and hands tug the sheets.
“You could probably come from my fingers alone,” he said, curling them inside and watching him shudder.
“Probably,” Childe agreed, “but you know I want more.”
“I know.” Zhongli dipped down to kiss him, soft until Childe opened his mouth and prodded for his tongue. He’d called Childe his captive, yet he felt trapped in the depth of the kiss. He spent too many millennia without this mouth. Even spending every waking moment exploring the tender insides of his cheeks, the ridges and points of his teeth, the curl of his tongue, the heat of every breath, wouldn’t be enough to make up for the time he couldn’t.
When he abruptly pulled away, Childe recognized the burning in his golden eyes which signaled he was finally going to be fucked. A hunger, deep but controlled, an intense gaze which could make anyone squirm. And it was all on him.
“It’s torture not being able to touch you,” he sighed. “Every part of you is just begging to be touched. Your perfect hair, your perfect face, your perfect muscles.”
“Flattery won’t make me unbind you.”
“It’s not flattery, it’s the truth. Besides, I don’t dislike being restrained- only for you though.”
He recalled being restrained for punishment in his earlier years in the Fatui. He wasn’t an easy child after returning from the abyss, and he was never a model soldier, picking fights for fun and ignoring orders he didn’t agree with. He’d be tied up so he wouldn’t writhe too much when taking a lashing.
But this was nothing like that, not with Zhongli who touched him so tenderly, sometimes too tenderly for his frenetic desire. He thought he wouldn’t even mind a flog if it was held in Zhongli’s hands.
“Only for me,” Zhongli confirmed.
Childe hooked a leg around his waist and pulled him in until his knees knocked into the edge of the bed. Zhongli grabbed his other leg, hoisting his ankle over his shoulder, worshipping the image of him spread wide, helpless and restricted beneath him.
Zhongli pushed into him slowly despite knowing fully well Childe wanted a sharp snap of his hips. Asserting control, he made Childe feel the agonizingly slow stretch around each inch. Halfway in, he paused to savor the feeling and the view, how Childe’s tight posture of anticipation had relaxed.
His eyes flashed indignantly. “Go slow if you must, Zhongli, but at least move.”
Zhongli slammed in down to the hilt. Childe’s back arched and he choked on a cry. It was giving Childe exactly what he wanted, but it was satisfying, switching into a harsh pace without warning as Childe’s body struggled to acclimate, his words fucked right out of him. Zhongli knew he was doing something right when he couldn’t speak.
“Is this,” he asked, his own voice breathless, “what you wanted?”
He dug his fingers into Childe’s waist, pulling him back against his cock, burying in hard and deep. Childe gasped, turning his face into the sheets, hands struggling and failing to hold onto anything substantial.
“You should answer when I ask you a question, Childe,” he chastised, slapping the inside of his thigh with a gloved palm.
Childe yelped, twisting under the strike.
“Is this what you wanted?” Zhongli repeated, pulling out, allowing him a moment of emptiness before dragging Childe into his thrust, seating himself fully inside.
“Yes, yes, yes, Zhongli, yes,” he gasped, tilting his head to look at him with eyes brimming with tears- and ardent bliss.
Zhongli didn’t think he even had any idea what he did to him when he looked like that. Zhongli could barely process it himself, the culmination of affection and eroticism, piercing yearning to both cover every inch of skin in lingering kisses and fuck him until he couldn’t think. Worry over being too rough melted away when Childe was so receptive.
It was criminal how good it felt when Zhongli speared him open, a pleasure startlingly close to the adrenaline high of battle. Childe liked it rough, wanting to feel everything Zhongli could give to him. Maybe his brain only associated pain as meaningful; to grow stronger was to hurt. He knew Zhongli liked being gentle with him, that he saw the webbing of scars across his body and had no intent to inflict further injury upon him; perhaps Zhongli wanted confirmation his hands were capable of softness still, that he was allowed touches other than those of protection and battle. There was no war to be won, or people to defend.
And they would have softer sex, often in the lazy glow of dawn as neither wanted to leave the other’s side, but for now Childe was begging him to go harder and faster. The edges of the leather harness bit into his skin with every sharp movement which drove him deeper into the mattress. His thighs ached with how he was spread, though it paled in comparison to the blistering heat between them.
When Zhongli touched his cock, his mind overloaded. He pressed his palm down until Childe cried out and squirmed, unable to escape (not that he wanted), and then eased up, running his fingertips across the length over the fabric. His pace didn’t stutter once.
“I wish you could see yourself like this. So beautiful, taking me like your body was made just for me.” He carefully pushed the fabric down so his gloved fingers could graze his cock properly, so sensitive the faintest touch made him jerk. He stroked him slowly while fucking into him relentlessly. Childe couldn’t even focus on one sensation, it was all too hot, and he had been wound up for so long. It only took Zhongli wrapping his hand around him fully and giving a few firm pumps for him to spill himself with a sob.
Zhongli slowed as he felt his walls tighten around him, but didn’t stop entirely, continuing with thoughtful, leisurely thrusts.
“What a mess you made,” he hummed, swiping his fingers through the come glistening across his abdomen, presenting them to Childe’s mouth.
He blinked up at him with that hazy post-orgasm expression Zhongli loved, sweet and vulnerable, eyelids heavy, flushed down to his chest. He parted his lips obediently, licking his own spend from his fingers.
“Good, good,” he softly stroked Childe’s cheek, smiling as he leaned down to kiss him for a peaceful moment.
Childe only just caught his breath when Zhongli pulled out and flipped him over onto his stomach, face burning with how effortlessly Zhongli handled him. Maybe he enjoyed being treated like a doll. Maybe Zhongli’s controlled strength endlessly turned him on. Zhongli positioned his knees under him, ass in the air, hands locked against his thighs and face pressed against the sheets. He felt even more exposed, and shivered.
Zhongli pushed his entire length inside at once. His knees buckled, but the hands on his hips kept him in place. Typically in this position, Childe would use his arms to support himself against the bed. Instead, his head and shoulders took the force from every cruel thrust, forced harshly into the mattress. He wondered if his neck might break from this. He turned his head so he could breathe, mouth parted in stuttered moans. His drool and tears stained the sheets in dark circles. Zhongli carded a hand through his hair, a reminder of his affection as his hips slapped sharply against his ass.
Heat swallowed Zhongli’s cock, tight and encompassing and acceptant. He groaned, as each surge into the hole squeezing him, as each adorable whimper falling from his lover’s lips, built upon the fire in his gut. His core was magma, impassioned and bubbling and threatening to burst through the surface.
“Childe,” he gasped as he came inside, draping his entire body over his back, grinding his hips into him with finality. His arms wrapped around his middle and his face pressed into his shoulder, and Childe was sore and breathless but could scarcely imagine a more cherished embrace.
Mind foggy, he barely registered Zhongli sprinkling his back and shoulders with kisses. Long strands of hair tickled his skin. His mouth trailed over to his ear, voice low and syrupy, “You feel so good around me. I can’t bear to part. You can be a good boy and warm my cock for a while, can’t you, Ajax?”
Zhongli let loose several arrows in quick succession- his rich voice, calling him a good boy, briefly vulgar, and invoking his real name- striking the bullseye of Childe’s heart with each one.
He couldn’t repress a faint moan, nodding his bleary head into the sheets. “Yes,” he murmured.
“Perfect. You’re too good to me. How did I ever come to deserve you?” He kissed the shell of his ear, and Childe only whined beneath the endearment.
Zhongli pulled back, maneuvering into a sitting position on the edge of the bed with Childe seated in his lap. Zhongli’s cock was still hard and sheathed inside him. He felt so full, dizzy from the intimacy of being slotted together. He fit perfectly between Zhongli’s knees with his back pressed against his chest. His clothing was soft, and couldn’t contain his body heat, though nothing was so hot as where they connected.
“Relax,” Zhongli whispered into his ear, dragging his hands up his sides as he melted into him. Any slight movement only reminded him of the cock inside him, throbbing against his walls. He jolted when Zhongli leaned forward, reaching over for a book on the bedside table, thumbing it open with one hand while his other arm remained wrapped around Childe.
He began to read from it. Childe, blissed out, barely registered the words at first, only the soothing timbre of Zhongli’s voice and breath against his skin.
“A meticulously crafted timepiece from Fontaine, incense from Sumeru, a wine goblet once owned by an aristocrat of old Mondstat….”
Oh. Childe recognized those words.
“You are not reading Rex Incognito.”
“I am reading Rex Incognito. I think the central figure is rather dashing, don’t you?” Zhongli casually skimmed a hand over one nipple, making him fidget, making the cock slide inside him and for him to shakily sigh.
“If a bit of an asshole.”
Zhongli hummed, neither agreement nor disagreement, before continuing to read. He’d been told to relax, but he found it increasingly difficult with the teasing touches over his sensitive skin.
“...and by his eyes, which were the color of amber,” Zhongli read.
Childe, ready with some sharp retort, only gasped as Zhongli thrust up into him as if to confirm he was as deep as possible. He knew Zhongli was nothing short of divinely endowed, yet the longer he remained seated inside him, the larger he felt, stretching him wide and reaching the furthest recess of himself.
“I’m just rather taken with this exquisite counterfeit,” Zhongli breathed, twisting his swollen nipple until he moaned, arching his back instinctively. His cock rubbed at his sensitive insides and he cried again as he his head fell back against Zhongli’s shoulder, sweaty hair falling away from his face.
He was going to go insane from this cock, he thought weakly. Zhongli was calculated, giving him brief reprieves between nonchalantly moving inside him, subtle thrusts. His hand would trace the leather harness and the lines of his abdominal muscles before caressing his cock- only fleetingly, enough to make him writhe on top of him but not enough to grant him another release.
Infuriatingly, Zhongli remained calm and unaffected; Childe could only find some satisfaction in the blush coloring his cheeks. He read without a single stammer. Childe found his voice a relaxing baritone on all other occasions, had been lulled into sleep before as he recited Liyuen poetry, but now every syllable was electric.
“You’re so good at keeping my cock warm,” Zhongli praised, dipping his head down to bite a passionate bruise against his pulse. “I believe you should leave your position in the Fatui and serve solely as my cock warmer; you were truly born for this.”
“Zhongli,” he whined, nearly delirious enough to agree.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.” He ground his hips down as Zhongli refused to move.
“Ask nicely then.”
“Please, give me more, Zhongli, please,” he sighed, confined hands able to grab at his slacks but not much else.
“You’ve probably never asked for anything so nicely before in your life before,” Zhongli mused.
Before Childe could insist he had been a polite youth, Zhongli grabbed him by the waist, raising and lowering him on his cock like he was little more than a toy, thrusts wet from the seed he’d previously spilled. He went slow, but Childe was still trembling by this point. His pale skin shone with the sheen of sweat, and his chest heaved with his panting. His entire body lay responsive and vulnerable to Zhongli’s touch, resting bonelessly against him while he fucked into him. As if to make up for the fact he couldn’t touch him, he leaned as far back as possible, craning his neck to muffle his cries into Zhongli’s hair.
Zhongli finally gave him relief by stroking him, leather gloves the perfect texture against his skin, thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure against the head to make him gasp. Zhongli turned his head to the side, prompting their mouths to meet, more moan and saliva than kiss. With their lips crashing together, and Zhongli rolling his hips up to meet him, Childe came over his hand. He bit at his lips desperately, tasting Zhongli’s blood on his teeth, but his lover didn’t seem to mind, sucking his tongue into his mouth and sinking himself in deep as he finished.
Childe felt impossibly full, from Zhongli’s cock, from the come of two orgasms- and then excruciatingly empty. After having him settled inside for so long, it felt wrong when Zhongli pulled out and set him down on the bed. He was void and cold but settled tiredly against the sheets to catch his breath. He wanted to ask Zhongli for more, but didn’t have the energy to form the words.
When Zhongli uncuffed his hands, that felt wrong too, regaining arm movement. Yet like a mannequin with cut strings, he allowed Zhongli to reposition him, skilled hands unbuckling and removing the harness he’d meticulously secured.
“Like what you see?” he drawled, legs spread suggestively as he laid back, feeling naked without the leather hugging his body.
Standing at the edge of the bed, Zhongli stared down at his masterpiece. Pink indents in his skin remembered the form of the harness, and purpling bruises recalled the shape of his mouth, and his hole dripping with seed memorized the heft of his cock.
“Yes,” he answered simply, crawling over him on the bed and kissing him gently.
Although Childe inclined his head for further kisses, Zhongli pulled away. He took hold of his wrist and stretched one arm out. Childe groaned; he hadn’t realized his limbs had grown sore from the restrained position until Zhongli thoughtfully stretched them out. Of course, he’d endured worse, but he wasn’t going to complain about Zhongli massaging the ache from his muscles. He carefully rotated his arms through their full range of motion, though the lingering slide of his fingers over his physique suggested it wasn’t purely selfless.
Once he was satisfied, he attempted to lean away- but Childe’s arms wrapped around his back and tugged him down.
“I missed this,” Childe mumbled, sneaking his hands beneath Zhongli’s shirt and running his palms across his back, eliciting a sigh from him, body easily relaxing on top of him.
“Hey,” Childe continued, causing Zhongli to rouse from burrowing against his neck and peer down, expression fatally soft after sex. “What if, when I leave for my next mission, I take the harness with me and wear it under my clothes? So whenever it rubs against my skin I’d be reminded who I really belong to. What do you think of that?”
There was no question his loyalty laid with his duties, but there was also no question he’d carved out a niche in his heart where Zhongli could lie.
Zhongli’s eyes widened, as if to better drink in everything. “I think,” he began thoughtfully, “that it would be very cruel of you, to be so ravishing while also so far from my touch. Would you want me consumed with that thought of you until you returned?”
It was an unspoken contract that Childe would return to him.
“Maybe,” Childe flashed a grin. “I’ll send letters detailing all the things I want you to do to me, and even as you’re trying to be all serious while honoring funeral customs, you’ll get hard sometimes, thinking about me.”
Zhongli pressed a finger to his mouth to silence him. “You are… a lot.”
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“Good way. Generally.”
“Generally good. I’ll take it.
“Enough talk of when you’re away. Why not focus on what I can do with you beneath me right now?”
“Oh? Now who’s a lo--”
Zhongli cut his voice off with a firm kiss. He draped himself low against him, pinning him under the broad form of his body. He seized both his wrists with one hand, yanking them above Childe’s head. Childe gasped and curled up into him.
“Remember, you’re still my captive,” Zhongli spoke against his mouth, and Childe shivered from the innumerable promises those words contained.