[ trust childe to take the near-sundering of liyue harbour and call it a favour.
but it's difficult to object to any of it when childe's all over him, heavy-eyed and intent, hips rolling up with the slightest promise of friction, the taste of his mouth as heady as wine. his head cants to a side as childe's lips part against his skin, if only for a moment; a breath drags in his throat, husky, nearly distracted. ]
You, more than anyone else, should understand that there is never an end to wanting.
[ it isn't a comfortable position for anything, but the arch of childe's hips is an excellent incentive. his fingers drag over cloth; his palm turns up, grinding up a little more firmly, working into a rough, slow rhythm as childe pulls his belt apart. it's a poor choice of location; but they're alone, and unlikely to be interrupted, and the ache in childe's voice resounds through the vastness like a storm.
zhongli turns his head. a hand cups his cheek with a steadiness that's less kind than absolute, thumb rubbing the wet red curve of childe's lip with something a little startled, a little testing -- measuring the limits of what childe will permit. ]
Besides -- [ with a corroded flicker of irony - ] this is hardly a battle.
[ what it is won't be worth considering for another hour. zhongli sinks back against the pillar. his hand abandons the curve of childe's cock thickening under cloth, trailing upward; his hip tilts a little as his fingers hook in the loop of childe's belt, pulling him forward, just enough to let childe grind against his thigh.
they're steps away from a battlefield. there are certain practical limitations to what they can manage. if he wants anything, he'll have to work for it. ]
no subject
but it's difficult to object to any of it when childe's all over him, heavy-eyed and intent, hips rolling up with the slightest promise of friction, the taste of his mouth as heady as wine. his head cants to a side as childe's lips part against his skin, if only for a moment; a breath drags in his throat, husky, nearly distracted. ]
You, more than anyone else, should understand that there is never an end to wanting.
[ it isn't a comfortable position for anything, but the arch of childe's hips is an excellent incentive. his fingers drag over cloth; his palm turns up, grinding up a little more firmly, working into a rough, slow rhythm as childe pulls his belt apart. it's a poor choice of location; but they're alone, and unlikely to be interrupted, and the ache in childe's voice resounds through the vastness like a storm.
zhongli turns his head. a hand cups his cheek with a steadiness that's less kind than absolute, thumb rubbing the wet red curve of childe's lip with something a little startled, a little testing -- measuring the limits of what childe will permit. ]
Besides -- [ with a corroded flicker of irony - ] this is hardly a battle.
[ what it is won't be worth considering for another hour. zhongli sinks back against the pillar. his hand abandons the curve of childe's cock thickening under cloth, trailing upward; his hip tilts a little as his fingers hook in the loop of childe's belt, pulling him forward, just enough to let childe grind against his thigh.
they're steps away from a battlefield. there are certain practical limitations to what they can manage. if he wants anything, he'll have to work for it. ]