It is strange how quickly the decades pass when one is a dubiously inclined Fatui Agent with the title of Harbinger.
Childe reigns a sort of chaos that would take most an entire life to perfect. For him, it comes naturally, dripping from his being and chasing his heels as he sweeps through nations causing mischief. It's his job, to bring mayhem as he lays down the law for his beloved Tsaritsa. All to become a god, to see that blessed Celestia and ascend to a higher plane.
It hasn't happened yet, but there's faith, and so wherever the Tsaritsa sends him he goes.
But, as the years crawl that dream grows a little sour. He's tired and sore, his joints aching, heart a little lonely whenever he's far away from home. His siblings are grown. Only his mother is left. There's still Ekaterina, sweet Ekaterina who definitely doesn't get paid enough to handle his bullshit.
The bitterness stings. Childe is unsatisfied in so many ways, but it's the physical things that tend to linger in his mind. Random fucks with nameless faces take the edge off well enough but there's something to be said about the comfort of returning home.
His campfire blazes but the night air is too frozen for the cold not to seep in. The ground is hard against his ass and he doesn't look forward to his thin bedroll, rolled out over the thick permafrost. Soon, he thinks. He'll have a bed and real, warm food soon enough.
But, for now—the opening of his trousers. His hand drags across his stomach, tracing the lines of his abs before dipping lower. He groans, the tight grasp of his fingers not entirely terrible. He strokes his cock to full hardness, sighing at that pleasure he drags from his gut.
It's short. Quick. He comes all over his hand with a grunt, toes curling in his boots. Once the moment dies down, Childe's only left with cooling come in his hand and dissatisfaction as his hole clenches, painfully empty. "Well," he murmurs, "it's something, I guess."
Sleep comes better this time, at least.
#
It isn't home, but Childe manages to meet up with a slew of his subordinates in a quiet village he won't remember the name of later.
The nostalgia hits full force the moment he has Vlad's cock in hand, the veiny girth familiar as Childe's fingers tighten around it. "Oh, that's—boss." Childe would laugh if he weren't so desperate for it, leaning forward, his tongue sticking out, ready for a taste. The tang of sweat assaults his nose. The taste is salty but he laps at the tip, sliding his tongue through the precome that drips freely.
Behind him is Andrei who's already tugged Childe's trousers down to free his ass. His hands are still rough, manhandling his asscheeks as he spreads them for a better look. Childe leans against Vlad, straddling his waist, jutting his backside out for easier access.
Andrei sweeps his thumb across his hole and Childe feels the way that he clenches in anticipation. It's been too long, too too long since he's been properly fucked in the way that he likes—which is to be drowning in cocks and cunts. Fucked and filled by his men, those devout in their loyalty, who praise him and put him on a pedestal because he's not just their boss, he's the Eleventh.
It's a privilege to fuck him, to see him like this, stripped away, hard and wanting, begging for more. It's been too long. Childe sucks at Vlad's cock, tongue swirling around the tip. It flattens against the underside and he slides down until he's choking, the tip of Vlad's dick nudging the back of his throat.
"Fuck," hisses Vlad. Fingers curl into Childe's hair, tugging until his scalp burns. "Sir."
Childe sputters around him, drooling wet and slick around Vlad's length. Spittle pools, making a mess of his mouth, but he doesn't care. Childe just moans, eyes fluttering closed as he bobs along the dick, sucking, dragging his tongue around to trace veins and searing hot skin.
Behind him, Andrei shifts, dipping low, biting the smooth muscle of Childe's ass. A tongue over his hole, wet. Hesitant. It prods at his rim slowly but insistently. Childe huffs, pressing back. "More," he demands. "Too fucking slow. Come on, get to it."
"Uh—yes, sir." Andrei doubles his efforts, spreading Childe's asscheeks wide to dive in properly.
"And you—" murmurs Childe, kissing the tip of Vlad's cock. "Fuck my throat like you mean it."
This time, Vlad slips into his mouth with a deep, stuttering thrust. And then another, hard enough to knock the breath loose. Childe moans, suckling him messily, moving along his length to meet every roll, mouth wide and compliant.
Andrei drenches his fingers in oil, slipping one in alongside his tongue. And then another because he knows that Childe will demand more and faster. The sting feels amazing, the sharp pleasure-pain that burns through him as Andrei stretches him at a clipped pace.
Others around the room jack off to the sight, moans and murmurs falling from their throats as they watch their boss get railed into oblivion. This is how it's always been. Team building, Childe used to joke back when they were younger and needed morale. Ekaterina is a goddess when it comes to carving out times and places to make it work. In keeping mouths shut under the threat of rumor. What happens in these debauched orgies stays here, lest you want the edge of her blade, which no one is willing to risk.
"Gods, I've missed this," whines Vlad, fucking Childe's mouth, balls slapping against his chin. "Boss, you've always been— Ah."
Andrei fucks him three fingers now, watching as he digs into his ass, rim stretching as he works Childe open. Other familiar faces and cocks, names that escape him because Childe's too deep into his lust to give it much thought. He moans, choking around Vlad's cock, nostrils flaring as he tries to breathe. Tears prick his eyes. His chest burns from the lack of oxygen.
He's drunk on the lust, the pleasure, the way that these cocks stretch his mouth and his hole. Not enough. Not— Childe groans, pulling back, looking at Vlad with a teary-eyed and wet gaze. Vlad still wears his mask, graying around his temples but is handsome enough. His cock will still please, buried in his ass.
Childe moves, pressing Vlad back into the sheets until his back is flush with the mattress. He turns, facing away, hips hovering over Vlad's straining dick. "Slick it," he demands. Andrei's quick to action, pouring oil over his hand, jerking Vlad's cock. Another pitiful moan bubbles from Vlad's lips.
"Sir," says Andrei, pressing Childe's thighs wide and the tip of the cock right to Childe's hole. Childe drops his hips, hole parting around the tip until it pops in like an old friend. Vlad hisses, hips jerking, toes curling in the bed. Childe slams down the rest of the way, forcing his cock deep until his ass meets Vlad's thighs.
Andrei's eyes are glued between Childe's thighs, watching as he stuffs himself full of dick. Licks his lips, eyes wide, half-leaning forward. Andrei palms his own cock, long and slightly curved as his fingers gloss over the wet tip.
"Are you just going to sit there?" asks Childe. "You've never been one to just watch." He leans back against Vlad, holding himself up on a strained elbow. Spreads his thighs wide, fingers split around his aching dick. It twitches. Leaks all over his stomach in slick tendrils.
Andrei swallows, throat bobbing as he just stares. "Right, yeah, uh—Okay." He closes the space between them, nuzzling the length of Childe's cock. Soft kisses. The drag of his tongue. Andrei knows just what Childe likes, and they fall into the familiar feel of his as he wraps his mouth around Childe's dick.
"Fuck," his Childe, a hand curling around Andrei's head. His mouth is hot and tight as he sucks. Back and forth as he bobs, just like Vlad's thrusts as he fucks Childe's ass. "Gods, so good."
Andrei moans around him, soaking up the praise.
Vlad hisses, the strokes of his cock hard and stuttering. "Tight as ever, boss," murmurs. "Even after all this time. Just like always, even back then. Hah, just—"
Childe feels himself hurtling towards his end alarmingly fast. The press of the cock, deep and thick in his ass. The way that Andrei tries to suck his soul out through the tip of his dick. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter until Childe is drowning in it, head tipped back, half-lidded, and lost. He grinds against Vlad, forcing his cock deeper. Fucks into Andrei's mouth, pulling his head down until he's sputtering around him.
It still isn't enough, it still—so close, but—
"More," he cries out, rolling his hips, trying to get as much friction as he possibly can. He's still too empty, wants too much. To be filled, to be splattered in white come from everyone else who touches themselves in the room.
Andrei drops a finger, smoothing it over Childe's rim where it's stretched around Vlad's length. It slides through the oil and presses in, dragging through Childe's squirming insides alongside the dick already inside. Childe gasps, twitching, cursing for more. Another finger is added, and then another until Andrei's fucking him with Vlad's dick, stretching Childe's hole for more.
This too, is nostalgic, being stretched to his absolute limits. Childe loves how he can lose himself like this, punch-drunk in a haze as everything else melts away. In this room, he's no longer a Harbinger, he's just a boss, and his men want to please him. Take care of him, ease him into some sort of peace and comfort.
Childe whines. "Please," he begs, his voice a harsh whisper as he meets the press of those fingers and cock, demanding more. "Gods, just, please. I need—I need it. Fuck me, the both of you."
When Andrei pulls out his fingers, it's a loss. Childe's ass feels loose, sloppy, far too empty. Andrei is too slow, taking his time to slick his cock, thumbing around Childe's swollen rim, watching it struggle. He slips a thumb in and pulls, just slightly, enough to make room to nudge the head of his cock in.
It's a slow glide. Andrei rubs circles into Childe's thigh as he slides his cock in. "Come on boss, relax. Yeah, yeah—just like that. Oh, oh—"
The sound the Childe moans is inhuman. He's chock full, past the point of brimming, both of the cocks unbearably wide as they bully his insides. Vlad presses in and Andrei pulls back. Then they swap, fucking into him with alternating thrusts. Childe's face is wet with tears, gasping, fingers digging into the bed as he tries to hold on. He goes slack against Vlad, just taking it, eyes rolling back as the others fuck him until his only thoughts are how much he wants to come.
"Oh, oh, Tsaritsa—" A particularly rough drag of Andrei's dick pulls across Childe's prostate. Childe yelps. He keens. Pushes back against them, his cock twitching, bobbing against his stomach. All the while Andrei is still murmuring, still rubbing those damned circles into the inside of his thighs.
"Harder, fuck, just—" Childe wheezes, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck me harder."
They do, rutting against him with an even pace. Childe drops his hips, seeking out more, chasing the orgasm that he hovers on the edge of.
And then, a hand, soft against his face, unlike the calloused palms of most of his men. Childe cracks an eye open. "Nadia," he whispers, taking in her sweet face, sans the mask because she's more sentimental.
The mattress dips underneath her knee and she swings herself over him, straddling his face. She pets Childe's hair, her nails scraping his scalp, soothing in a strange way, wholly different than Vlad and Andrei's attention. "My lord," she says, mostly a tease.
Her cunt hovers over him, wet and glistening, clit hard as it peeks out from its hood. She spreads herself, dripping around her fingers as she slips two fingers inside to show just how good ready she is.
Childe paws at her ass, pulling her close until her cunt is suffocating him. He laps at her sex, tongue sliding over every fold and crevice, drowning in her heady taste. She leaks, flooding his face, and Childe does his best to swallow it all down.
Stuffed beyond full below, his ass clenching around both cocks. Eating Nadia out, tongue circling around her clit, tugging it into his mouth to suckle. She moans, riding his face, rolling her hips to drag her cunt across his mouth and nose. Childe bites at her, a soft nibble, his teeth grazing that nub at the apex of her sex until she's gasping his name, thighs tight around his cheeks.
Andrei thrusts into him roughly, hiking Childe's thighs up. Vlad groans, both at the tight heat, and the way that Andrei's cock drags beside his, ever alternating as they fuck Childe in tandem.
Childe moans, gasps, cries out, and curses. Everything in his being is white-hot and taut as the pleasure just builds and builds. Nadia against his mouth and the sweet tang of her cunt. Andrei and Vlad, murmuring his name, fucking him within an inch of his life.
The blurred images of the rest of his men, hands on their cocks, wet and slick sounds as they fuck their hands. Even Ekaterina, three fingers pressed into herself as she rides her hand, locking gazes with Nadia and biting her lip. All it takes is for Nadia to reach back and grasp Childe's cock. One quick stroke and he's coming, making a mess as he spills white everywhere, painting his stomach, Nadia's ass, her hand—
Then he's overstimulated, pulled long and thin as Andrei fucks him through it. Vlad lays there, grinding slowly, too tired and spent to raise his hips—but Andrei fucks him in earnest until Childe's a mewling mess, sobbing into Nadia's cunt.
Vlad comes first, groaning as wet warmth fills Childe's ass. It spurs Andrei on, fingers digging into Childe's asscheeks as he fucks into the wetness, tipping over the edge shortly after.
Meanwhile, Nadia still rides Childe's face, two of his fingers buried into her cunt. He fucks them in, dragging across the fluttering muscles of her sopping insides, and she ruts against his mouth, over and over until she too, is crying out.
Childe drowns, in the high of his orgasm, in Nadia's slick that seeps from her folds, in the soft words of Andrei and Vlad as pause, catching their breaths. They're all a little too old for this sort of thing but they needed it, all of them. Morale boosting indeed, only this time Childe just wanted a piece of home.
Andrei slides his cock out. Childe feels the rush of come that gushes out. When Vlad pulls out next, Childe feels bereft, the emptiness and satisfied soreness sinking into his chest. He moans. Kisses Nadia's clit before he helps her off of him. She pets through his hair as she settles to the side.
"Wait, lay down," he says, coaxing her against the mattress once Vlad climbs off. Childe crawls over her, on his hands and knees, and nuzzles the inside of her thigh before kissing it. "Surely you aren't done? You must want one more. One isn't enough, one isn't—"
Childe pauses, spreading his thighs again, tossing a look over his shoulder. He wants another orgasm, wants to spend himself until he's coming dry. His eyes lock onto Katya who smirks back, already digging through her bag as though she's read his mind.
She probably has. There isn't a person in the world who knows him better than she does, all the years she's spent fussing over him. "Sir," she says quietly, kneeling on the bed behind him. The leather harness digs into her skin, pulling at her plush thighs until they're bulging around the straps.
There's something to be said about a more mature woman. Childe's throat goes dry as she strokes that fake cock that lays thick between her thighs. "I was saving this for Nadia, you know. But, the thought of fucking you instead, watching the way you squirm on my cock—"
"Katya, please."
"Shh, don't worry, I'll take care of you. I always do, don't I?" She spreads his cheeks, sweeping her thumb through his drenched and loose hole, watching how come leaks out. He whines as she plays with his swollen rim, pressing her thumb in, testing how loose he is. "Poor thing," she croons.
Katya is wicked with her cock. She presses the tip in, watching the way his hole swallows it down before slamming the rest of the way in with a hard thrust. Childe is too full all of a sudden. He keens, sliding across the bed, clinging to Childe is sore and his joints ache, but he'll be good, just like Katya likes. She holds his hips in a tight grip and pulls him back into her, grinding her fat cock in as deep as it'll go.
"Fuck, Katya, I—"
Nadia's fingers curl into his hair again, stroking his auburn locks as he's fucked straight into overstimulation. His cheeks are wet with tears as he rests one against the inside of her thigh.
"Go on," says Katya, dragging her length right across his swollen prostate. "Take care of her. Didn't you promise her another?"
He was going to, he just never got the chance. Childe nods, scooting closer, tugging Nadia's hips close as he devours her cunt again. She says his name sweetly but fucks his face aggressively. Katya rolls into his ass hard, cock thick in his guts, dragging terrible sounds from his throat.
"Please," he says, voice raspy, muffled by Nadia's sex as he licks it. "Fuck, please, I'm—" His cock twitches, fully hard again, leaking over the sheets as the tip drags over the bed.
"Are you going to come again?" Katya sighs at the thought, pressing her thumb into his hole, pulling at it, watching the pink of his insides as her cock spears him open. "Come on, Sir, you can give me another."
Childe chokes on a pitiful sound, falling back into Katya's smooth and measured strokes. Right into his prostate, bullying those nerves. Katya's free hand moves to cup his balls, squeezing them as she thrusts, pulling and tugging at them gently. Sweat clings to her as she fucks him faster.
"There, oh, there, Mhm—" He writhes, feeling like he's about to die. "Katya, Katya—"
"Do you see them?" she asks. "Everyone else in the room. All eyes are on you, Sir, just like old times." Then, Katya leans forward until he's plastered against his back, mouth near his ear. "Good boy," she whispers, just for him, changing the angle, nailing Childe's prostate dead on with every slip of her cock. "You've always been a good boy for me, even now."
Childe clenches tight, coming at her praise, his spend watery as it drips all over the bed. Nadia pets him through it, her fingers a balm against his scalp as he cries against her, moaning into her cunt, still trying to lap at her even as he shakes with his orgasm.
Katya moves to pull out and Childe grabs her with a bone-crushing grip. "No, don't—" He wants her to stay, keep him plugged up, let him roll about in that hazy pleasure as he dozes about. She coos gently and soothes him, rubbing at his skin, brushing her fingers and knuckles over the length of him. Down his back, around his sides, all the way still pressed in deep.
"Onto your side," she murmurs, "Come on Sir, just like that." It takes some maneuvering but Childe rolls over, pressing his face into Nadia's chest. Katya curls against his back, still stroking his side. Nadia pulls his face into her breast and he kisses one. Short and sweet, his tongue circling a nipple. She laughs as Katya smacks his ass. "Behave," warns Katya.
"I've missed this," he murmurs, sluggish and tired. The rest of the room is still alive, still fucking their hands and each other—but Childe feels sleep pull at him. If he were younger—but he isn't. He blames his old bones.
Katya presses her neck into his sweaty nape. "Ajax," she says low enough that no one else will hear. "Rest. I won't leave." She rolls her hips, nestling the cock deeper into his ass as if to prove her point. Leaving him plugged, full, satiated. He groans softly and she brushes his bangs back from his forehead.
"I'm too old for this," says Childe, and Katya chuckles. "You're too old—"
"You better shut up."
Childe does, humming softly as he falls back into the lurid pleasure that fills the room. The sounds, slick and wet fucking, Katya spooning him and rolling her hips gently—he's missed this. He figures he better rest before getting ready to go again.