The Good 'Ole Gluck Gluck
It is not a good day at the Northland Bank for Childe.
He sits at his desk, rubbing his face, weariness already tugging at his bones despite it barely being noon. It's a paperwork sort of day, spent pushing parchment from a chair instead of out in the field, cracking heads over loans.
Childe is a simple man; he isn't great with numbers, but he's excellent at intimidation. Suitable for collecting debts, but not-so-much working behind the scenes, a constant thorn in Ekaterina's side (not that she'd ever admit it, bless the woman's soul).
"What does he expect me to do?" murmurs Childe as he pours over notes and documents, and whatever else Pantalone has deemed appropriate for his eyes. "I can't just—I mean, I could, but what would that say about me? No, no, I'll handle this the old-fashioned way." The pressure against his eyes isn't enough to calm his brewing headache. Childe is too tired for this.
"Shit, I miss the old days." Back when his job was to hunt down Morax. Despite the difficulty of it all, it was entertaining. It wasn't a never-ending slog of pushing numbers and tax documents. Ganyu never breathed down his back, citing law after law all the while expecting proper documentation.
The door to his office creaks open and he doesn't bother to look up. "Later, Katya," he says, shuffling through a new stack of parchment. "Burning the afternoon oil so I can't think about lunch."
"A pity," says someone who is definitely not Childe's secretary. Childe looks up to meet Zhongli's placid gaze. He is suspiciously dressed down for the day, wearing only trousers and a plain, white shirt. Zhongli's hair hangs loose around his face, tumbling over his shoulder. "I was hoping you'd spare some time for at least a snack."
How he'd love to, but— "Zhongli, I'm too busy." Childe leans back in his chair and scratches his chin. "Pantalone expects answers for… whatever this is by the end of the day, and I can barely make heads or tails of it. I told them that I wasn't qualified to run this place. There was a reason it was only a cover before."
Pantalone might be a businessman, but Childe is not.
Zhongli's gaze shifts then, his eyes narrowing. Then, he presses the door of Childe's office shut with a soft click and crosses the room on quiet feet.
Childe sighs. "I told you, I—" He cuts himself off when Zhongli drops to his knees, slotting himself between Childe and the desk. "Uh…"
He watches as Zhongli drags his hands through his hair, tying it back with careful poise and precision. Then Zhongli presses those long, dangerous fingers against Childe's thighs, brushing his knuckles against the creases of his trousers.
Childe stares with a hawk-like gaze, his throat suddenly dry with anticipation. Childe isn't a fool, he knows exactly what Zhongli's aim is. Zhongli's fingers skitter across the front of his trousers, trailing over his cock, which is quickly gaining interest. "Hey—"
"You seem stressed," says Zhongli casually.
"I mean, yeah, but—Oh."
Zhongli undoes Childe's trousers and pulls out his half-hard erection. He leans forward and kisses the tip, nuzzling it sweetly before dragging his lips from the head to the root.
Childe tenses. "Shit, Zhongli, you can't just—"
"I can't?" Zhongli sucks at the base, his teeth nipping at the soft skin of Childe's groin. "I think that I can and that I should."
He should not. He should not—not with Ekaterina at her desk, just outside, and the door to Childe's office woefully unlocked. Still, Childe's dick twitches in interest, which makes Zhongli smirk something wild and dangerous-looking.
Childe knows that face. And the way that Zhongli's fingers curl around his length, jerking at it softly with just this side of the right amount of friction. Childe whines softly, hips bucking. He doesn't have time for this, which is exactly what he says.
Zhongli ignores him, wrapping his mouth around his cock and swallowing him right down.
"Oh, fuck." It comes out as a hiss. Childe's fingers immediately find purchase against Zhongli's head, cradling his face as he tries not to thrust into the wet-hot heat of his mouth. "This is—"
Zhongli hums around him, taking his dick right to the root. He moans, the tip of Childe's cock pressing against the softness of his throat. Then he slides back to the end, suckling around the crown, lapping at the dripping precome that begins to drool from the tip.
Childe tips back in his chair, the legs of it creaking. He groans, eyes slipping closed as Zhongli bobs along his cock like a man starved. He slurps at him, tongue pressed flat against the underside of his dick. His mouth is tight around him as he sucks, moaning around Childe's length. Zhongli's fingers dig into the meat of his thighs. He takes Childe's cock deeper, until Zhongli's nose is buried in the coarse hair of Childe's groin.
"I'm—oh, gods," he whimpers. Childe bites at his lips to keep from being too loud. Ekaterina is definitely the sort to check on odd noises, and Zhongli didn't even have the decency to hide himself under the godsdamn desk. He's right there, out in the open, knees pressed into the plush rug, his lips stretched sinfully around Childe's thick dick.
Zhongli looks at him, then, eyes narrowly slit, pupils blown wide. Only a thin ring of Geo rims the black, cheeks pink with lust and exertion. His throat flutters around the tip, ringing it dry. Childe is not going to last long, like this—not with Zhongli sliding along his cock, choking on it deliciously.
Childe cradles Zhongli's face, smoothing his thumb across the jut of his cheek. He pets through his hair, fingers curling into the locks to grip them tightly. Zhongli moans, tapping his thigh, encouraging him.
So he does. Childe holds Zhongli by the face, bucking against him. He thrusts into his mouth until Zhongli is sputtering around his cock, nearly gagging around it. Drool pools at the edges of his mouth, bubbling from the seam of his lips, and Childe just watches as he fucks in and out.
Tears prick at Zhongli's pretty face. He moans around Childe's length, sucking him dry, that devilish tongue sweeping around the underside before pressing flat.
Heat curls in Childe's belly, and instead, he thinks of slipping out and turning Zhongli over. He thinks of fingering Zhongli open with heated, quick presses, before sliding his cock in and fucking him wild against the desk. Zhongli would, but Childe won't make it to that point, not with the way that Zhongli's mouth is hot and slick around him. How he watches him back with a red and ruddy face, cheeks wet with tears, and lips swollen.
His nostrils flare as Childe presses in as deep as he can go, settling his thick cock. "Celestia, you're perfect." He is quiet when he says this, reverent almost. "A god between my legs, swallowing me down. Tell me, Zhongli, is this what you planned for when you came here? Was this your idea of lunch?"
Of course, not, but the teasing is fun. Zhongli smiles around him with a soft little cough, and then his movements change as he works harder to pull Childe over the edge.
Childe pulls out before he can come down his throat, painting Zhongli's face white with his spend instead. He pumps his own cock, shuddering at the sensation, palm tight around his length as he finishes. Zhongli's tongue flickers out, tasting it, licking around his lips before dragging at the rest with his fingers.
And then Zhongli makes a show of that too, leaving Childe to watch, hiding his face behind his hand, embarrassed. "Gods, you're just—Zhongli."
Zhongli looks smug, extremely proud of himself because Childe lasted less than five minutes at the behest of his expert tongue. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and cleans the rest of his face. He stands, tugging at his shirt primly, making sure that he's put-together and well composed.
And then Ekaterina walks in. Childe's just barely put his dick away. She looks between Zhongli and Childe, her gaze shrewd. "I… you know what? I'm not going to ask," she finally says. "And I certainly heard nothing."
Which is a bald-faced lie that makes Childe want to crawl into a hole and die.
"This door stays open from now on," finishes Ekaterina before slipping back out of the room.
"Oh, gods." Childe hides his face in his hands. "I can never come to work again."
"Surely she knows we sleep together. We're married—"
"That isn't the point!"
Zhongli blinks at him, his fingers paused on his shirt cuff as he straightens it. "Next time, then, I'll leave you to your devices," he says.
"Wait, no, not that either—"
Zhongli's mouth curves into a tiny grin, one so subtle that most would miss it. "That being said, I, too, did not have much time for lunch. Ceremonies to be had and bodies to prep—you know how it is."
Childe does not, but he nods anyway. Zhongli gestures to the food he brought. "Courtesy of young Miss Xiangling. Eat it at your leisure."
"Zhongli, I—"
Zhongli reaches out and thumbs across his lip before dipping low and kissing Childe. It's lingering and sweet. When he pulls away, he says, "I hope that I helped ease some tension."
More like made it worse, but who's counting? The only thing Childe's counting is his blessings. And then, Zhongli's gaze grows weighted. "I expect you to come home at a decent time tonight."
"There's so much work—"
"Ajax." Zhongli's voice is firm as he holds Childe's face. "I said, a decent time."
Childe can do that. He definitely can. His cock twitches at the thought of burying itself into Zhongli's warm and yielding body, which is clearly the plan. "Right, I—yeah."
Zhongli pats his cheek sweetly and pulls back. "Consider it motivation," he says.
Motivation indeed.