God I love these two. Take my smut.
It's supposed to be a means to an end.
A way to let loose, to release the hard-packed tension set tight between his shoulders. Zhongli, below him, moaning, his face pressed into his pillow. The way that he clenches tight around Childe's cock, unwilling to lose that fullness he so desperately begs for.
Always from behind, thinks Childe as he presses the palm of his hand against the small of Zhongli's back. It's easier this way, far more removed. Zhongli dips under his hand obediently, following Childe's direction, like soft putty under his carefully honed and deadly hands. Zhongli's back is arched, his chest flat against the mattress, his fingers raking at the sheets.
What a beautiful sight. Zhongli's round ass and the way it jiggles when Childe pounds into him. How Zhongli's fingers clench tight around soft silk. His keening cries, spilled against the pillowcase as he does his best to fuck back against Childe.
Begging for the pleasure, taking whatever it is that Childe gives him.
It's the first time that Childe comes to the sight of Zhongli, and not the feel of him. Not to the way that his ass is wrapped tightly around Childe's cock, or how Zhongli responds to his touch so eagerly. No, it's how he looks instead, face utterly debauched, pink-cheeked and eyes wet; the way that he looks back at Childe like he's hung the moon in the sky, like he never wants to let go.
So much for it being casual. Childe pines for him more and more as of late, wants to claw into Zhongli's chest and never leave. Having this man in his bed is more than a comfort, it's a need now, but not the visceral kind that calls to the body.
It calls to Childe's heart instead.
"Childe," murmurs Zhongli, his voice raspy from how much he's called out. His cheek is pressed into the pillow as he looks back at him.
Childe's cock is still in Zhongli, softening as he holds himself up on trembling elbows. His face drops to the middle of Zhongli's back, resting between his shoulder blades. "Fuck," he murmurs.
Not for the reasons Zhongli thinks. He can't think these kinds of thoughts, can't wish for this kind of thing. He's a Harbinger, an agent of doom, he's not aloud peace and happiness. It'll only put Zhongli at risk. Still, he can dream. Allows himself to do so for a brief moment, pressing a kiss to the sweaty, cool curve of Zhongli's spine.
And for a moment, it's enough. Just the thought of it. The quiet dream.
Childe imagines that they're married and happy. Soft nights and warm dinners. Casual and lingering touches, and kisses pressed into the sides of their temples. Late night cups of tea as they watch the stars settle against the dark sky. Bright, like starlight, simmering until it's a bubbling glow.
"Childe," says Zhongli again, this time quieter and more subdued. There's a furrow set between his eyebrows and just like that, the moment is over. The impossible dream fades away.
Childe slips from him wordlessly. Cleans them up and throws their clothes into the dirty hamper. As always, Zhongli will return whatever's soiled the next day. Childe has spare clothing kept here now, for how often their trysts are. He sets about dressing.
Zhongli stares at him, half-turned in his bed. "Stay," he says.
Childe pauses, halfway into his shirt. It's the first time Zhongli's requested it.
He's a Harbinger and he knows to say no, knows to nip whatever this is in the bud before it fully blooms.
But Childe's also human, no matter the parts of himself he lost within the Abyss. He drops the shirt to the ground and slips back into the covers, settling behind Zhongli like it's the most natural place for him. Feels like it's meant to be.
He'll figure it out later.
#
In retrospect, Childe should've known that Zhongli is Morax. It's so obviously clear to him now.
He's hurt. He's angry. He wants to punch Zhongli in the face.
Childe also wants to press him into the sheets and kiss every scar that he has. Wants to ask him about his years and what it's like to be a god, and wants to fuck every one of those memories away. Childe is angry, but he also gets it, the want to retire and live normally. To understand mortality as it's meant to be lived.
He'd always been loyal to the Tsaritsa, always been her right hand and beloved. Never thought that one day he might want more, something else.
The only revelation that's come to Childe in the aftermath of this new info, is that his job here's done and he doesn't want to go home. His love for the Tsaritsa seems so trivial now because when he thinks about devotion- the true kind that's so utterly sublime- he doesn't think of her cool and pristine hands.
He thinks of warm skin and long hair, and deep laughter pressed into his neck. Soft amber eyes, a soft and calculating smile, the firm hold of Zhongli's hands when he pulls Childe to him.
"I didn't think you'd come here," says Zhongli that night in a soft murmur.
"Are we not close?" asks Childe, his fingers wrapped around his teacup. They're sitting on a loveseat, watching the night sky from the open-air balcony of Zhongli's apartment. Yes, he's angry, but they'll always be close, they can't forget everything they've shared.
"Are we?" asks Zhongli. He knocks their knees together and keeps them pressed close, warmth radiating through his trouser leg.
Perhaps Childe should've realized that Zongli doesn't quite understand where they stand. It's always been a means to an end, a way to vent frustrations and cool themselves off; that's how Childe framed their trysts in the beginning, and every time since.
"Just for the benefit of it," said Childe what feels like decades ago, putting a tight rein on whatever would come of it.
He'd failed miserably, of course, despite everything he tried. His entire heart has fallen victim to Zhongli and Childe finds that he doesn't much care. Not anymore.
But Zhongli doesn't know that, can't know that. He's as dense as they come. Things have to be spelled out for him, slowly and clearly.
"The stars," says Childe, "We always watch them, don't we?"
"Hm." Zhongli follows his gaze. "We've always found comfort in them, I suppose."
"It's never been about the stars." Childe's voice is quiet. Fragile. His fingers are tight around his teacup and he wonders if he's about to fuck everything up. "It's always been about you."
Zhongli's mouth parts and he's unsure what to say. He settles on, "Oh."
Childe's heart constricts tightly. "Look, I get it, it's not what was supposed to happen. I know what I said, what our agreement was. I know that it was supposed to be nothing, but I-"
"Childe-" Zhongli tries to cut in.
"-And maybe it's because I'm young and stupid, and for fuck's sake you're an archon. Or you were, I don't know what that makes you now- and shit, I'm babbling. Gods, I don't do awkward well-"
"Childe," says Zhongli with a little more force. He reaches over and presses a hand to Childe's thigh. It stays there, a comforting gesture that weighs about as heavy as Childe's heart.
"The chopsticks." It's all Zhongli says at first, and he's trying to think, trying to form his explanation. He's just as awkward with feelings too, and that's something they share. Zhongli, with the inability to ever quite understand until now, and Childe never having been allowed to. "I- Forgive me, my intentions were unclear to you in the beginning. I thought that perhaps you ignored them and that's why you proposed a… beneficial situation instead."
"What?" Childe wracks his brain for meaning but so many Liyue customs are lost on him, being a foreigner.
"It's never been about the stars for me either, Childe. Or the sex. It's the intimacy, the closeness of it all; I'm the only one that shares such a thing with you, and I figured it would be enough."
Childe swallows thickly. "It isn't," he says.
"No, it isn't," agrees Zhongli.
They finally meet gazes and Childe reaches out. Zhongli's reaction is immediate, the way that his body folds against Childe's side. Easy and practiced, well-learned motions. Autonomic in nature, how it always starts between them.
This isn't how Childe wants it anymore.
When Zhongli begins to turn onto all fours, Childe stops him. Guides him back against the plush loveseat, Zhongli looking up at him instead. Childe hangs over Zhongli, slotted between his legs, a hand sliding down his chest and pulling his shirt from his trousers.
"Is this okay," he asks quietly, his hand hesitating before it moves any further.
Zhongli reaches up and pulls Childe down with surprising force. They meet with the kind of bruising kiss that's familiar, dazed and hurried. But then Zhongli's mouth slows down and licks into Childe's mouth, dragging his lips open, his tongue slipping inside.
It's too slow. It isn't slow enough. Childe wants to cherish everything that Zhongli gives him, to truly indulge and worship him the way that he deserves. The way that he's wanted for such a long time.
My, how he's held back.
A hand slips underneath Zhongli's shirt, squeezing at the soft skin of his side. Childe grabs at his hips, pulling them closer, grinding their cocks together. Even through fabric, it's utterly divine. Zhongli gasps into his mouth unlike Childe's ever heard before.
Zhongli's the one to reach between them, his fingers ghosting along the hard line of Childe's cock. Squeezes at him through his trousers as he chases Childe's mouth with his own. It's heated and passionate and feels ten thousand times brighter than any other time they've slept together.
Funny, what a difference being honest can make.
They shuffle around. Garments drop to the ground one by one in a heaping pile. And fuck, Zhongli is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, laid out like a feast before him.
"This is why," says Childe quietly, smoothing his hands across the expanse of Zhongli's skin. Down his sides, across his stomach, along the delicate curve of his hard cock. "This is why I've always insisted on from behind. You're too beautiful like this. I couldn't afford to fall in love."
Zhongli swallows. Childe watches as the apple of his throat bobs. He wants to press a kiss there, wants to bite at it. Wants to eat Zhongli alive, wants to set him on fire and burn him in pleasure.
Then Childe wants to soothe the dull, residual ache with the balm of his feelings, crooning soft words against Zhongli's skin because he doesn't think he'll find sleep that night.
Zhongli takes Childe's hand and brings his fingers to his mouth. Swirls his tongue around the digits sensually, showing him just how good he is with that tongue. Because Childe knows, oh, how Childe knows, thinking about the warm heat of Zhongli's mouth around his cock instead.
Later, he thinks. Because for now-
"Impatient," says Childe, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
"Yes," says Zhongli bluntly, raising his hips to paint a clear picture. "Always," he says, and it's like Childe's brain falls to his balls, only one thing on his mind.
He slides down Zhongli's body and presses a kiss to his navel. Trails his tongue down his abs and nibbles at the base of Zhongli's cock. Zhongli watches him wordlessly, his eyes glowing like molten cor lapis.
Childe hasn't ever indulged in this, it's always been Zhongli who's preferred to do so, swallowing down Childe's cock like it might be his last meal. But how can Childe not think of it now? Zhongli's cock is hard and leaking against his belly, looking as delectable as he's always thought. Just another thing Childe held back on for fear he'd feel too much.
He licks along Zhongli's length, his tongue swirling around the tip. His hand finds the part that he can't reach, taking it into a loose grip. Childe pumps him gently as his mouth seals around the head of Zhongli's cock, tonguing along the underside.
Zhongli moans deeply, his head falling back against the pillow before he looks at Childe again. His hips buck slightly, unable to hold himself back. And Childe welcomes it, swallowing around him, encouraging the movement. Zhongli curses in a low hiss as his hands find Childe's face. His fingers cradle it softly, his thumbs sweeping over Childe's cheekbone as he regards him reverently.
Childe's other hand cups Zhongli's balls, then his fingers slip back. Takes only a second to slick them up with hydro because he's too impatient to find their favorite oil. The first finger slips into Zhongli easily, his body loose and pliant, ready for more. Always like this, always so eager, his hole sucking Childe into his tight warmth.
Zhongli's hips rise and fall, trying to get friction from his mouth, trying to fuck against Childe's finger. Childe hums around him, amused and the vibration must hit the right spot because Zhongli keens, his face wild and alive.
Childe pulls off, pressing a kiss to the tip of Zhongli's dick. Then he slips in a second finger, spreading them and pulling at his rim. "Gods," murmurs Childe into the crease of Zhongli's skin where his cock meets his groin, "Is that sacrilegious? Technically you're one and I've already got you so close."
He can tell, the way that Zhongli's legs are tense, how he clenches tightly around his fingers. Zhongli whimpers as he slips a third finger, thrusting them into his ass lazily. "Childe-"
"Shh," says Childe, pressing his fingers deep, seeking out Zhongli's prostate. "We don't have to hurry this time, we've got all night." Because he doesn't plan on leaving, he never plans to if Childe can make it so. His home's here with Zhongli now, this is where he yearns to be.
"Childe," hisses Zhongli, his voice suddenly terse. Childe's finally found it, that spot that makes him cry out. Zhongli grinds against his hand, seeking out that delicious touch, chest heaving, skin sweaty.
And maybe Childe should worry about the noise he's making, the moans and groans that Zhongli tries to hold back. The balcony is open and Zhongli has neighbors. Childe wants them to hear, wants everyone to know that he's staked his claim.
"I don't want to come like this," begs Zhongli, "I want you in me, I want-"
Childe removes his fingers mercifully, sliding back up Zhongli's body to press a kiss to his temple. "Alright," he says, "Alright, I'll give it to you."
"Yes," says Zhongli, spreading his legs wide, hooking them around Childe's hips.
Childe looks at him, sweeping his hand across his smooth skin. "Just like this," he says, taking in the sight. Were he more patient, he'd mark Zhongli up, kiss every inch of his skin. Bring him to the edge of pleasure over and over again until Zhongli's shaking and begging for it to end.
But not tonight. Tonight's a simple affair, tonight they just want to share those delicate feelings so carefully confessed.
Childe sinks into Zhongli slowly, pressing deep into his heated warmth until Zhongli's ass meets his thighs. It shouldn't feel different, he's felt this a thousand times but-
It does, everything's so utterly different, heightened in a way he never thought imaginable. Zhongli's impatient, already wiggling against him, already seeking out the steady rhythm Childe knows that he craves. Childe grabs his hip sharply in a warning.
"Wait," he says, leaning over, pressing his nose into Zhongli's neck. "Wait, just- let me have a moment."
Zhongli does, falling still. He reaches up and strokes his fingers through Childe's hair. "Childe," he says softly, "It's okay."
Nothing about it is. Everything about it is. Childe has no idea what the future holds for them, or how he's going to manage it, but the only thing that matters is Zhongli below him, belly up and wanton for his touch. How he's wrapped tightly around Childe's cock, his body yielding only for him.
Childe kisses him again, this time slow and sweet, a dragging kind of kiss that lingers. He thrusts into Zhongli's heat at a steady, relaxed pace. Zhongli moans into his mouth and Childe swallows it up, nearly tipping over right then and there.
Too much.
Childe's strokes lengthen and hit harder, and Zhongli swallows him up, his ass clenching around his cock in a heated embrace. Childe moans against his neck, biting at the skin there, soothing the mark with his tongue soon after.
Not enough.
He pulls back entirely, lifted Zhongli's hips, pressing his thighs back, shifting the angle of his glide. Zhongli practically howls in response, cutting off the sound with the back of his hand.
"None of that," teases Childe, reaching out to thumb across Zhongli's nipple. "I want to hear you." The nub hardens under his touch, stiffening before he moves on to the other.
"C- Childe," hisses Zhongli, his head thrown back as he whines pathetically. "Ah- ah- so full, I'm so-" Zhongli can't find his thoughts, too busy trying to meet Childe's thrusts. And Childe fucks into him, his hands on Zhongli's hips, watching his hole spread wide around his cock.
He's tight and warm, his rim spread around his length and Childe feels a perverse sense of satisfaction as he watches himself press into Zhongli over and over again. Zhongli whines and whimpers, tries to keep up with his pace, tries to feel as much as he can.
"Please," pleads Zhongli desperately. " Ajax-" And, oh gods, he's called him by his given name. "Ajax, please, please, please-" Zhongli's never this vocal, not with words at least. He certainly doesn't beg- usually, his face is pushed into the covers and hidden, and all he can do is whine pathetically as they fuck.
Childe does as he asks, aims his thrusts, moves faster, tries to fuck everything he's ever felt into him.
Zhongli must be overwhelmed. The pressure in the room changes, Childe can feel it, the tang of power being released. Zhongli's arms are suddenly dark and gold, glowing with bits of geo as he loses himself more and more the longer that Childe fucks him.
This is new, entirely unexpected. Childe presses a hand against the clammy skin of Zhongli's forearm.
And shit, he's beautiful like this, so otherworld, so clearly immortal. Glowing like the stars in the sky that they like to watch together. Like starlight, thinks Childe, A love like starlight, the kind that lasts forever. Or for as long as he can have.
"Zhongli," he says, leaning over him again. He's hiked Zhongli's hips up and pressed his thighs back as far as he can go, bending him into a position that allows for the perfect angle. Childe ruts into him with measured strokes, aiming for his prostate with every thrust.
"Gods," sobs Zhongli, overwhelmed and overstimulated, looking wholly depraved as he watches Childe with wet, tear-stricken eyes. The red around his eyes is smudged, his lips kiss-swollen. So gorgeous, and all his, only his.
"Perfect," croons Childe, etching the word into Zhongli's collarbone. "So perfect for me, this is why I love you. I love you, Zhongli, I never want to let you go." A mantra that Childe repeats over and over, mouthing at his skin as he fucks into Zhongli.
Zhongli comes untouched, spilling all over his stomach with a cry of Childe's name. His ass clenches tight, refusing to let Childe go, trying to pull him back in and hold him deeper. Childe pounds into him deep, grinding against him to remember the feel of it. Pleasure mounts in his gut, his belly tightens, he's so, so fucking close.
He doesn't want to come just yet and his movements slow slightly into a deep-seated crawl. He drives into Zhongli, languid and savoring. Zhongli shakes, his thighs trembling, and Childe expects him to say it's too much, to ask him to stop.
Zhongli doesn't. "More," he manages, a soft and tired moan, "Ajax- please." Drunk on the pleasure, drunk on Childe's confession, drunk on his own feelings too.
It's the begging that does it, the needy tone of Zhongli's voice as he watches Childe through narrowly slitted eyes. His cheeks red and his skin sweaty. His stomach covered in his pearlescent spend. The pleasure coiling in Childe's stomach finally snaps, and he spills himself into Zhongli's ass as he comes, tumbling and tumbling over the finely peaked edge he's worked so to climb.
Zhongli clings to him, his legs wrapped around Childe's hips, his arms around Childe's shoulders to pull him close. Childe all but collapses against him, not bothering to hold up his weight. The couch isn't comfortable, Childe's knee stuck in the cushions.
But neither of them care as they lay there, coming down from the high of it all.
Zhongli hums a soft song, his fingers stroking through Childe's hair, scratching at his scalp. Down the back of his neck, tickling the skin between his shoulder blades. Zhongli smells like the earth and the sky, and Childe's eyes slip closed as he soaks it up.
He didn't know he needed comfort. Thought that perhaps loving someone was all he needed, but the soft afterglow of their lovemaking is better than the act itself. Zhongli doesn't have to say it; Childe feels his love.
But Zhongli does anyway.
"I love you," he says against Childe's hair, "But it's a scary thing that I am unaccustomed to."
Childe snorts, laughing into his chest. "And what, I know what it's like?" He can feel the frown that Zhongli is no doubt wearing. "Zhongli," he says softly, pressing a kiss into his sternum, "I get it, I understand."
"Hm."
Childe lifts his head and looks up. "Are you complaining?"
Zhongli looks down at him. His geo is starting to fade away as he slowly regains the grip he has on this form. His look is kind, if amused. "No, I'm not."
"Good, because I am." Childe sighs. "But that's a conversation for tomorrow. Let's clean up and go to bed."
"You're staying?" asks Zhongli, quietly surprised.
Childe stayed that one time, months ago at his request. Never stayed again. It was too soft, too comfortable. It'd gone against everything he was supposed to do, everything that's been programmed into his being. He's the Tsaritsa's right hand, there are expectations of him.
That one night spent wrapped around Zhongli, the first where Childe slept soundly in about a decade, had been too dangerous.
But now…
Well, caution's been thrown right out the window. Childe will figure it out later.
He presses a kiss against Zhongli's chest, and then his lips when he rises up. Pulls his cock out carefully and cleans them up. Tucks Zhongli into bed before going back to the porch and cleaning up their teacups and teapot.
When Childe finally slips into the cool, clean bedsheets, it's like coming home. Zhongli, warm against his chest, already asleep. The soft murmur he lets out as he snuggles back against him. How perfectly Childe's arm fits into the divot at Zhongli's waist.
Made for him, thinks Childe. Or maybe it's the other way around. "Like starlight," he whispers into Zhongli's hair, "Ancient and forever."
There's a Snezhnayan folktale he hated as a kid, something about the earth loving the sky, and going to the ends of eternity to be together. It's said that the twinkling of the stars is their love for all to see. He always thought it was dumb.
Childe's still stupid now for taking so long to realize that love's worth it.