I let you sleep. [ he says, and it's almost indignant, defensive. but they both know that his idea of sleep is far different from the other man's, that Childe himself can live off only a few hours of rest and wake up in the morning right as rain and raring to go. quite literally, in some cases.

the flood of cum that oozes and dribbles and pours out of the other man has him licking his lips almost in anticipation, gaze riveted on Zhongli's shuddering, twitching, ruined hole and the white that cascades down his inner thighs.

a primal, possessive part of him wants to immediately flip the other back over and replace what's been lost. his hips even arch up a bit as though his cock's trying to chase the warm, wet hole it'd been buried in all night. ]

Relatively pristine... so you don't want me to help you break it in at all? Is that a formal request, my Zolotse?