"Insatiable," murmurs Zhongli into the sweaty warmth of Childe's neck. He licks across the skin there with a serpentine tongue, nibbles at it next with teeth just a little too sharp, and Childe keens. He moans, back bending from the mattress in an elegant arch, muscles tensing. "Gorgeous," he says next, kissing across the length of Childe's shoulder. He lingers, his mind whirring, taking in the sight, smell, and weight of Childe against him.
"What are you thinking about?" It sounds like an innocent question but it is not.
Zhongli knows Childe, his words, his tone, that blue-eyed gaze that would seem dull to anyone else. He doesn't ask things without intention and this time, paired with Childe's hand as he drags it down Zhongli's sternum, it is meant to tease.
There are many things that Zhongli thinks about in these sweltering moments of heat and it is strange for a man of so many words to come up entirely tongue-tied when it comes to describing what Childe is to him. Love, he knows, effervescent in the way that Childe permeates his home and being. Everything at other times when Zhongli's thoughts are wholly consumed.
These things are not secret and Childe knows. He's accepted them, tucked them into his breast pocket, and hoards them like a dragon himself. It's the sort of deep-seated desire that drags up old instincts that Zhongli nearly forgot. And oh, he wants everything with this man, the sorts of things described with care in the pages of books. Romance, a family, a sturdy house with a well-built fence.
Late nights in their sheets, spent losing themselves in each other by candleglow. Skin, hot and slick, Childe moaning underneath him, the tightness of his ass, and the way that he whimpers in pleasure when Zhongli slides in. Childe is home to him. An odd thought but welcome. Zhongli thought he'd retire alone.
"Fucking me?"
Zhongli blinks, pulled from his thoughts by Childe's roguish voice. "Pardon?"
Childe lays beneath him naked and hard. He watches back with that damned grin. "You must be, but—" he says, his hand sliding down Zhongli's side to cup his ass. His fingers dig in, pulling Zhongli closer. "You're also thinking of something else."
Old, old instincts curl in Zhongli's gut; old, ancient things that he thought were long laid to rest until roused by Childe's youthful impetuousness. And Childe must know. He has to. His gaze is half-lidded, amused as he regards Zhongli.
"Breeding me, right?" Zhongli chokes on a breath and Childe nods as though he's read his mind. "Yeah, that's—Isn't that what's popular in books nowadays? Woman gets railed by a decidedly inhuman partner, begging for it—"
"You are not a woman—"
"No, but you're a dragon, and I know you." Childe drags a finger down the expanse of Zhongli's chest. Over his stomach, to where Zhongli's cock lays heavy between his thighs. Childe drags that finger over his length next, and says, "This guy too. Come on, breed me."
Childe doesn't know that's a real possibility and Zhongli has no intention of having that discussion now. Besides, it requires preparation and thought, they are not even married, let alone mated or in the right mindset to even think about a family—
"Zhongli."
"I—apologies. Lost in thought."
"The thought of it? Yeah, me too. Fuck me full of your come until it takes." Zhongli closes his eyes, his expression pinched. Childe laughs at that. He hooks an arm around Zhongli's neck and Zhongli tumbles against his chest. "Relax," murmurs Childe against his ear, "it's just some fun. Dirty talk. I know you're old and terrible at it, but humor me."
"I take offense to that."
"Make love to me, then. Is that what you like to say?" Childe noses along his jaw, pressing a soft kiss there. "So make love to me and breed me full until I can't think anymore."
Zhongli so rarely loses his composure but with words like those, how can he not? Childe is so perfect underneath him, begging to be bred, and even though the words are empty they satisfy an itch that Zhongli wasn't aware he had.
"Do you dream of it?" he asks, face tipping into the curve of Childe's nape, biting at the skin. Then his jaw, his cheek, the shell of his ear— "Carrying my children?"
"This isn't about me—"
"Oh, but it is, darling." Zhongli hums as he pulls back, hands smoothing over his scarred skin. Typically, he takes his time but a fire has been lit in Zhongli's core and he finds himself impatient. "Are these the thoughts that invade your mind when I have you underneath me?"
"I—" Childe swallows thickly, his gaze hazy with arousal. "Yes? I mean—yes."
Zhongli's chest rumbles, pleased. Geo fills the room as his guise slips, arms turning black like charcoal, glowing with glittering gold patterns. Childe's head tips back and he bites his lip. Keeping such a tight grip on himself wears Zhongli thin—but here, now he can let himself loose.
Childe has asked for it, after all.
"I have," he purrs. "More times than I'd care to admit to. You, swollen with my seed, carrying our clutch. Little ones running around with hair the color of the sunset, with—"
"Oh shut up and just fuck me." A pause. "Please," adds Childe. "I'm all for you waxing poetically, but can you do it while dicking me down, at least?"
Zhongli's mouth curls with amusement—only it's the sort of amusement that makes Childe wary. Childe's head tilts and his gaze turns suspicious. "Um—"
"Impatient, aren't you? That desperate to be filled?"
"Oh—"
"Yes, that's what I thought." Zhongli decides to be cruel, slowing down. He takes pleasure in Childe's prone form, licking his way over warm skin. His tongue on a nipple, circling around it until he sucks it into a stiff peak. Kisses over Childe's taut stomach, tense as he quivers with anticipation.
One long, wet slurp down the length of Childe's cock, sucking the head of it into his mouth. Childe moans. He writhes underneath him, fingers curled into the sheets, into Zhongli's hair, finding purchase wherever they can. Childe soaks up the attention lavished on him, bucking his hips, seeking out more.
"Zhongli." A warning, a hiss into the night.
Zhongli ignores it, kissing his balls, smoothing a thumb over the expanse underneath them. Then he licks his hole, that forked tongue teasing his rim. Childe sighs, melting into the sheets. "Zhongli, Zhongli—"
"Beg for it," says Zhongli as he slicks two fingers and works them into Childe's twitching heat. It's divine, how tight he is, the way his insides just suck them in.
"I'm—"
"Tell me, Ajax," says Zhongli, whispering his name lovingly. "Beg for me."
"Fuck, I want—" Childe yelps when Zhongli's fingers dig into his prostate. He strokes it slowly, but firmly, leaving Childe squirming in the sheets, fucking against his hand. "Gods, Celestia. Oh, Oh—"
Zhongli kisses the inside of his thigh, dragging sharp teeth against the sensitive skin there. "Darling," he says, coaxing Childe to find his words.
"Breed me. Zhongli, please, please—breed me."
It takes a second for Zhongli to move. Childe hisses as his fingers slip out and his cock slips in. Zhongli spares no time, rocking into Childe's pliant ass, losing himself in his heat.
"Such a good—" Zhongli moans, thinking, mate, mate, "—boy," is what he says aloud, sweat beading on his brow.
It is tempting to fuck him full of eggs, but neither are prepared for that. Instead, Zhongli focuses on giving Childe what he asks for—filling him up full with come until he's tear-stricken and overstimulated; until his stomach swells just slightly, spend leaking from his hole.
A beautiful sight, one that spurs Zhongli on as he thrusts in, over and over. Zhongli takes hold of his cock and strokes it. He whispers dirty, dirty things into Childe's ear.
"So tight," he says, "So, so tight for me, and so willing. You just swallow my cock up, desperate to be bred."
"Yes, yes." Childe clings to him, crying out, nails raking down his back as he babbles for more. "Gods, just—Zhongli, it's so good. So good."
Zhongli comes startlingly fast, his cock pressed as deep as it can go as he spends himself. He blames it on Childe's eager response and not age-old instincts of sowing his seed. Childe comes too, sticky and wet all over his hand, soaking his own stomach. He fucks back against him, still asking for more.
"You can't be done," says Childe. His voice is hoarse. He wriggles his hips, rocking them, trying to keep Zhongli's flagging cock inside. "Tell me that you can't be—"
"Shh," soothes Zhongli, leaning against him. He brushes his fingers through Childe's sweaty bangs. "Give an old man a moment."
"An old lizard. Zhongli, I've seen you ready to go for a second round in a half minute. Come on."
Zhongli laughs against his neck, kissing it sweetly. He doesn't tell Childe that his thoughts are overrun with other desires. He slips out, spreading Childe's asscheeks to watch pearly white drip from his hole. Zhongli can't help but scoop it up and press it back in, fingers spreading his loosened rim as Childe groans.
One day, thinks Zhongli, but for now, the fantasy of Childe taking load after load while begging to be bred full is just far too arousing. He coaxes Childe onto all fours and settles against his back. Strokes his cock back to full thickness and slaps it against Childe's fluttering, pink hole.
"Breed me," says Childe, his face pressed into the pillow, red and debauched, biting at his lip. "Fill me full of your clutch."
Desire rouses in Zhongli's chest as his cock slips in deeper than before, nestled into Childe's slick guts. Who is he to deny his love?