"You're shaking." Childe is smug, words dripping with amusement, like a cat who's found a jug of cream. Half-lidded, face flushed, biting his lip as he lays beneath Zhongli. Childe rolls his hips once, twice—
Zhongli hisses. Drops his face into Childe's nape and moans, a punch-drunk sound that fills the room. He drowns in Childe's scent, that crisp, tart smell of a fresh Snezhnayan winter. The lurid tang of his arousal, deeper, more like the earth, a little like the Abyss, entirely Childe.
"Fuck," curses Childe, sighing as he melts into their sheets. His eyes tip closed, auburn eyelashes ghosting his cheekbones. He's nothing but arches and angles and freckles and scars.
Zhongli pulls back to watch him, dragging his fingers over the sharpness of his shape. Traces Childe's imperfections with his nails, mapping them out like stars in the sky. He could find his way by reading them. He'd press kisses to them, tongue snaking out to suck at supple skin, making his own map of purpling marks.
Childe watches him for a long moment before asking, "Is it too big?"
A genuine question even though he knows it isn't. Zhongli has used this toy plenty of times before, the pull at his rim more than familiar. Wanted. Expected. Full and very satisfied. "No," he says, "no, it's just—" Zhongli rolls his hips again, his cock sliding to the root until it's locked inside Childe's ass. "Fuck, it's just—"
"Too much?" Childe drags a finger over the length of Zhongli's forearm. He's curious. Usually, he's the one to seek this sort of thing out, falling into overstimulation until his brain is mush and all he can feel is the white-hot pleasure that sears through his veins.
"It's so good." Zhongli whines softly, trying to focus on his thrusting. He moves gently like a wave lapping at the shore, pressing into Childe with measured, even thrusts that dole out pleasure. All the while, he's plugged up, a Geo construct snug in his ass, the tip of the bulge nudging his prostate.
It is constant. Unrelenting in the way that it pulls him under. With every thrust of his hips, the plug wriggles and pulses, resonating with his Geo, hitting that perfect spot. One fuck into Childe and Zhongli's dragged right back, hips seeking out more pressure as though someone is fucking him in tandem.
What a sensation. His mind blanks, pulled wide and thin. All Zhongli can think about is the way that Childe watches him back, face ruddy, full of lust and love. Words of praise tumble from his mouth, quiet and soft, only for Zhongli's ears. "Come on," murmurs Childe, reaching up to cradle Zhongli's cheek. "You can go a little faster."
Zhongli tries, rutting into Childe with a particularly harsh thrust—but stars spark in his own eyes as that plug milks his prostate, persistent in the way it bullies those nerves. Too much, too little, so, so perfect. Zhongli's hips stutter slightly, thighs tense, nails now claws that dig pinpricks into Childe's thighs.
Arousal burns through him as he tries to fuck Childe well, but his mind is caught between the dual sensations of the tight heat around his cock and the fullness in his ass. Stuffed to the brim. Hot and slick around his dick, all of it paired with the sight of Childe arching against the bed and begging for more.
"Divine," croaks Zhongli, voice parched. "Ajax, you're—" A vision. Perfection. Old, ancient words of yore that can't begin to adequately describe Childe. Zhongli wants and needs this man, desires to be one with him in every way possible, to dig into his chest, and never let go.
Childe is an obscene sight, cock hard and leaking all over his stomach. He's already come once by Zhongli's mouth, twice by his fingers, and twitches and aches for a third and final time. His rim is swollen and pink, stretched around Zhongli's cock, slick with oil and spit. Zhongli thumbs over the edge, feeling where they're connected, thinking about how more Childe might be able to take.
"Go on," prompts Childe. He can read Zhongli like a book, knows every expression he wears, and the way that his brown crinkles as he thinks. Zhongli slips a thumb in beside his cock, Childe's rim more than accommodating. Childe keens, crying out, arching up from the bed. "So full, so, fuck—Zhongli."
"Mhmn." A purr that rises in Zhongli's throat. He adds a second finger, pressing Childe's thighs back to fuck him better. Quicker, rougher, heavier thrusts that leave Childe babbling in the sheets. The plug that stuffs Zhongli full rolls around too with every roll of his hips, dragging over his prostate, nestling there as the tip just digs in. "This is—"
"Gods, look at you." Childe groans at the sight of him, brushing Zhongli's back from his sweaty forehead. Zhongli removes his fingers from Childe's ass to get a better grip on his thighs. "You're barely holding on, aren't you?"
"Please," whispers Zhongli, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, soaking in Childe's presence like a plant does sunlight. He's caught in the brilliance of it all, the effortless flow of how they just move together. His gut is hot. Pleasure burns in his veins. "Ajax, please."
Childe clings to him, throwing an arm around Zhongli's neck as he tugs him close. "So good for me," he says, nosing down the length of Zhongli's cheek until their mouths are close and they're sharing breaths. "Do you like it? Fucking me, but also fucking yourself?"
"Yes." A needy hiss, something more draconian than mortal. The edges of Zhongli's vision blurs as he loses his grip on himself.
A soft peal of laughter bubbles from his Childe's lips. He thumbs over an errant scale right near Zhongli's hairline, smoothing over the ridge as they begin to grow from his skin. "Beautiful," he says, the pad of his thumb warm against the cold of the scale. "I love it when you're like this, like you can't figure out which way is up or down."
Because he can't. All that Zhongli can think about is Childe's scent, sharp like snow, undercut by something spicier. The clench of his ass as Zhongli's cock glides through his insides; the wet slapping of his thrusts when his thighs meet Childe's asscheeks; his balls and the way they draw up when Zhongli's sack collides against them—
He moans, eyes shut tight as those instincts roar, slipping into the feel of Childe until there's nothing left.
"I love you," says Childe into his ear. He nips at the soft skin there, mortal teeth blunt against Zhongli's smooth neck. Zhongli expects the bite but when Childe's teeth clamp down he jerks. He thrusts harder, deeper, folds Childe's thighs back until he's rutting into him, overcome with fever.
Everything is hot. His insides coil about, fires nearing their peak as his fucking turns sporadic. Zhongli keeps at it, claws drawing blood from Childe's skin as they prick deep, trying to bury right into his being. Enough for Childe to hiss, scrabbling against him, begging for more.
Childe touches himself, one hand slipping between them, sweeping through errant come to slick his palm. He fucks his fist in time with Zhongli's strokes, moaning, thighs tight around Zhongli's hips.
Zhongli comes suddenly, that burning heat in his gut flaring as the plug in his ass slides right over his prostate again. He fucks Childe through it, slowing his thrusts to a rolling grind, aiming his cock to hit the same spot.
Childe chokes on his spit. "Zhongli, oh—fuck, there, there—" One hand on his cock as he jerks himself, the other curled into the sheets until they are close to tearing.
Zhongli thinks about how much he loves this man as he spills his seed deep into his gut, painting those parts of him white with his come. Only Zhongli sees him like this, red-faced, begging, torn apart by lust. Tongue lolling out of his mouth and eyes rolling back.
You should wear a plug while you fuck me, said Childe earlier, mostly joking but because Zhongli is eager to please, he'd readily agreed. And now, he's paying the price, overstimulated and barely conscious as he roughly fucks Childe toward an orgasm. Childe writhes, raising his hips, meeting every thrust, swallowing Zhongli's cock until his length is buried.
When he comes, it's mostly dry, a pathetic little dribble of come that leaks from the tip. He clamps down on Zhongli's cock, wringing it until Zhongli is cross-eyed and panting. Childe whimpers, his sounds bleeding into the air until he's groaning in the sheets, gasping in the rush of pleasure.
"Handsome," says Zhongli. "My darling, my precious, precious baobei." He'll never tire of this sight, of Childe below him, loose-limbed and slack in their bed as his orgasm rages.
They bask in the haze, laying on their sides until Zhongli's soft cock slips out, and with it, a rush of his come. Zhongli looks, spreading Childe, watching his gaping hole struggle to close. The sight is beyond words, pink insides sopping wet with oil and semen. Zhongli feels a feral need as he scoops his spend back into Childe's hole.
When Zhongli finally moves to clean up, he groans, the plug in his ass grinding into his gut. Overstimulated, his cock twitches and fills out slightly with renewed interest. Childe's keen eye doesn't miss it and he grins tiredly. "That look," starts Zhongli, "don't—"
It's too late. Childe is already moving, flipping them over until Zhongli's back is sliding against the sheets. His fingers find the flared base of the plug, tugging at gently. "More?"
"Ajax."
"Hm, yeah, more I think. You dragged three out of me. It's the least I can do." Childe bullies the plug out until the widest part spreads Zhongli's hole to its limit.
Zhongli whines, squirming. "Ajax." Childe shushes him, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he fucks him with the plug. Zhongli responds readily, his cock hard again, aching for a second release. The plug sinks in, thick and round in his guts. Zhongli would prefer Childe's cock, but this is still good, it satisfies a hunger that still burns deep.
It doesn't take much, just Childe's well-honed hands that know how to play him, and the hefty plug in his ass that pulses gently with Geo. Childe fucks him with it, digging the tip right into that bundle of nerves.
And then it's too much. "It's—it—oh, oh God's, Ajax—" Zhongli hisses, crying out, wriggling in the sheets until he tips over the edge again, coming all over his stomach. Gold-tinted instead of white, soiled in adept energy as his mortal guise crack and Geo bleeds through the air.
Childe soothes him through it, petting his skin as he guides Zhongli through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Zhongli moans hoarsely. Feels pulled and plucked, all sorts of wrong and right. Tired. Aching joints. Insides writhing as Childe eases the plug from his ass and presses a kiss to Zhongli's brow.
He's the one to clean up, for once, Zhongli vulnerable in the sheets as he starts to doze. Childe laughs softly, dipping down to kiss the tip of a fuzzed antler. "You alright?"
"Yes." The word is slurred, consonants blurred as Zhongli hovers about, brain foggy. "Mhm, yes." The sluggish aftermath is nice as Childe soothes his soreness with soft hands and a cool cloth. His skin pebbles as he's wiped down, Childe whispering praise near his ear, the perfect ending to their unhinged lovemaking.
When Childe slides back into the sheets, Zhongli is still middling about in the half-formed version of himself. "Oh you're—" Zhongli's tail thumps against Childe's thigh when he moves it, readjusting him until he can plaster himself close. "Silly," he says into Zhongli's ear, nuzzling the skin just behind it. "Overgrown lizard," he finishes, pecking a kiss against his neck.
There are worse things to be, but at the moment, Zhongli finds that he doesn't quite care, far too content to laze about in Childe's arms.