( it's the kind of quiet elegance that childe has come to expect from zhongli, refined and luxurious without being ostentatious. he feels wrong even setting foot past the door, like he's crossed a threshold to a private world he was never supposed to witness. part of him would have sooner been sloppily fucked over the marble floor in the golden house; he's as out of place in zhongli's airy foyer as he is anywhere else in liyue, a bizarre stranger who doesn't belong.

but then zhongli fills his empty spaces with his warmth, and any sense of lingering strangeness disappears, gone with the ghost of his breath across his mouth. )

You should never interrupt a man when he's deep in study. How am I supposed to remember where I left off?

( his voice curls like smoke between them, past a flicker of his tongue over zhongli's jaw. he unfolds into him, knees bumping knees and arms circling his shoulders, and sets his heel against the door, pushing their linked bodies several steps forward. lesson one, drilled into him at a tenderly impressionable age: never let yourself be cornered, even when you want it. maybe especially when you want it, and he wants it now more than anything.

he loosens zhongli's tie with a squeeze of his fist near his throat, licking down the juncture where his jaw meets his ear. his body hovers close, pressed flush, rippling muscle held back in knots, barely restrained. he bites zhongli's pulse, swallowing around salt and skin and the hot, prickling desire to take his cock into his mouth for a second time. )

I believe I was asking you politely to fuck me, please. Pretty please.