( the spear cleaves into marble, ringing like a final death knell, and childe's entire world tilts on its axis as zhongli nets him close, trading a stele for his arm across his back. he hooks his elbow over his shoulder, spine arching as he unfurls into him like a leisurely sprawling cat and swallows again. this is dangerous in a newer, less explored way — the jackrabbit kick of his pulse left with nowhere to hide, the distance between them cut to a single breath, leaving him exposed, easily accessible.
zhongli's molten stare slices through him cleaner than any knife. he feels thoroughly, uncomfortably seen. childe turns his hand at zhongli's nape, fisting where his hair is neatly tied and twisting; glossy black gleams like silk around his knuckles. )
Both.
( that must be obvious by now, or childe would've had a dagger in his jugular the second he brought his throat close enough to strike. every missed opportunity was shrewdly calculated.
he slides a leg forward, burrowed in the clutch of zhongli's thighs, and meets him with a full, hip-to-hip press of their bodies. his next exhale steams his mouth, tongue darting to touch the swell of zhongli's bottom lip and then hook under his top lip, kittenish and beckoning. it's a wire snapping, uncoiling all at once, as the hand in his hair pulls at his scalp and slants his head back, teeth snapping near his mouth.
he feels like a wolf who has a lion by the throat, halfheartedly struggling to maintain their deadlock as he waits for his inevitable end. he wants zhongli's teeth in him. he wants more, and fucking more, and his tongue in the wet slack of his mouth, until he's full to bursting. )
no subject
zhongli's molten stare slices through him cleaner than any knife. he feels thoroughly, uncomfortably seen. childe turns his hand at zhongli's nape, fisting where his hair is neatly tied and twisting; glossy black gleams like silk around his knuckles. )
Both.
( that must be obvious by now, or childe would've had a dagger in his jugular the second he brought his throat close enough to strike. every missed opportunity was shrewdly calculated.
he slides a leg forward, burrowed in the clutch of zhongli's thighs, and meets him with a full, hip-to-hip press of their bodies. his next exhale steams his mouth, tongue darting to touch the swell of zhongli's bottom lip and then hook under his top lip, kittenish and beckoning. it's a wire snapping, uncoiling all at once, as the hand in his hair pulls at his scalp and slants his head back, teeth snapping near his mouth.
he feels like a wolf who has a lion by the throat, halfheartedly struggling to maintain their deadlock as he waits for his inevitable end. he wants zhongli's teeth in him. he wants more, and fucking more, and his tongue in the wet slack of his mouth, until he's full to bursting. )
Do I have your attention, then?