gacharolls | >> 005 | I’m a soldier, not a plaything

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>> 005 | I’m a soldier, not a plaything

[ Liyue is burning.

It had only been a few hours since the Snezhnayan army had landed on the city’s shores and in that time the soldiers had wasted no time cutting a swath of destruction and violence throughout the safe harbor. Merchant’s stalls were tipped over, their contents ransacked and pillaged. Temples burned on hilltops, shrines to the gods splattered with blood and viscera of their most devout followers. Ornate, gilded residences once home to nobles and elite politicians crumbled by the wayside and bodies of Liyue’s former citizens bled together in red trickles of blood that flowed like rivers through the streets.

Whatever class system that had been put in place before was inconsequential. There was far too much carnage to pick out the robes of a noble from ones of a commoner, and all parties bled the same.

It was uncertain what had prompted the attack. For all extents and purposes negotiations had been fine, with some trade ships conducting business as usual between the two nations as recently as a week ago.

One of the bodies laying in the street was a small figure garbed in Liyuen clothing, clutching a Snezhnayan matryoshka doll. Childe, better known as Tartaglia to his servants and Ajax to his close family, glanced over the grim sight and murmured a soft prayer before continuing on his way through the city. The bottoms of his boots and trousers were soaked with blood, stained until the fabric changed from a dull grey to a red so deep it was practically black.

He’d been pulled from his chambers by one of his men stumbling in, clothes ripped and tattered, blood flowing from a wound in his side. He’d yelled something about a surprise Millelith ambush and how several of his comrades had already been taken out while they were ransacking the Golden House, and then promptly passed out.

As Childe made his way there he took note of the destruction of the city with something like satisfaction and elation in his dark blue eyes. Perhaps it was because of his status as a Harbinger or maybe because his upbringing was less than conventional, but this was the sort of environment that he thrived in.

Bodies of Liyuen citizens littered the ground underfoot in the walk he took to reach the doors of the Golden House, and before stepping within he noted how they were slightly ajar, small handprints of blood standing out on the wood next to larger ones slimmer than his own.

How strange. He wondered if people had tried to take sanctuary here before the Fatui found them, or if they’d been chased here and sought to make their final stand in one of Liyue’s most well-known landmarks.

He sincerely hoped no blood got on the mora. From the last time he’d visited the mint he remembered that the caretakers tended to just leave it laying around in piles.

As he steps inside Childe finds himself staring at a scene of such carnage and violence he can’t help the catch of his breath, the way his pupils dilate while something warm and hot burns under his skin.

His men lay on the floor, clothes ripped and torn with the press of a blade or a spear. It’s a pole arm, he concludes, when he lifts his eyes and catches sight of a few more of his men surrounding a man with long brown hair dipped in gold.

And gods, he thinks. This man is a vision.

He wields the pole arm effortlessly, as though it’s another part of him. Childe watches as his men go flying with the force used against them, the butt of the shaft used in connection with an open palm to force the Fatui into giving the foreigner a wide berth.

Childe thinks he recognizes the uniform as something of similar make to the Millelith, but he’s not sure. There’s too much blood staining down the man’s front to be able to tell, and Childe hopes not all of it is this beautiful foreigner’s. ]

Enough. [ He calls out, voice ringing authoritatively in the open space. His men on the floor groan in reply. Childe keeps his gaze on the man in front of him, desire thrumming through his veins. ]

You’ve given my men quite the work out, haven’t you? [ It comes out teasingly as though there isn’t a Fatui lying limp with his arm missing. ]

My name is Tartaglia, Eleventh of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers. But you can call me Childe.

[ And he smiles, the gesture so innocent it’s unfitting for the bloody scene all around them. ]

And what are you called, my lovely?

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[ It really isn't the same when he's asking for it, no, and he has to wonder if Zhongli will outright refuse him instead of bestowing it upon him like a gracious god. If the pretty foreigner deigned not to Childe would accept it - until such time that he got the opportunity to fuck his face again, and then he would indulge himself to his pleasure.

But Zhongli does, and Childe - Childe gives a body-wide shudder at the sharpness of it, his throat working as his eyes squeeze shut.

God, he thinks when he manages to slit his eyes open and watch Zhongli watching him. He really wants to fuck him right now. ]

I want to fuck you. [ He blurts out before he can think too long about it. ] Properly. In the bed. Right now.

[The words themselves aren't a surprise - honestly, he's more surprised Childe hadn't demanded to fuck him properly before now - but it's a little surprising that he says so now.]

Mmn.

[Zhongli gives the little hum of consideration as he pulls his mouth off of the harbinger's cock, letting it slip free with a little pop.

Should he give in to that? Honestly, it's hard to say. Agreeing once doesn't mean he has to every time, and he's not a fool. If he refuses, it will still happen eventually. And if not... he tries not to think too hard on how frustrating it is to have Childe just fuck his entrance, shallow and rough, until he's so close he could scream.]

... alright. This once, I won't fight you on it.

[Running his thumb along his lips to clean off any remaining pre-cum, Zhongli shifts to stand and let the perfumed water roll off of him.]

[ At first, Childe's expression is one of disbelief. Perhaps their little game of powerplay had gone on for too long, that the Harbinger was actively waiting on Zhongli's consent before daring to flip him over and take him for himself. He would undoubtedly look back on this later and move to fix it, but also it was a good show of faith, perhaps, that the foreigner could absolutely bring a horny dog to heel.

The implications behind that notion are not lost on Childe, and if he had the presence of mind to be offended by it than he surely would have.

As it stands, though, he's always thought Zhongli a beautiful vision by himself, and seeing the foreigner rise to a stand with water sliding off his form is enough to make Childe's mouth salivate with want, cock throbbing anew with a fresh wave of arousal.

He has to fight hard with himself not to knock Zhongli over in his enthusiasm, rising to his feet himself and grabbing a towel to quickly dry off before draping that on the ground and pulling on one of the thin, fur-lined robes hanging nearby. He threads his arms through the sleeves before he sees to his pet, holding out a towel for him to walk into so he doesn't go out dripping wet and catch his death. ]

Do you want me to take you on your back, or would you rather ride me?

[Zhongli allows himself to be wrapped in the towel, drying his hair as much as he can. There's a strange sort of... giddy flutter he feels at the prospect of this, and he passes it off as just being needy after getting used to so much sex.

That's not a good excuse, but it's an excuse.

His gaze turns to Childe at the question, considering it with a soft hum. The position makes a lot of difference, after all.]

... I'll ride you, unless you decide you would rather roll me over.

[It would be the best way to make it clear that this is different from usual, probably. Plus, it means he has at least some control over the pace of it.

It's just... a little embarrassing isn't it? Ah well. He's made a decision.]

[ The thought of having the pretty foreigner take his pleasure from Childe's body, using his cock like a living toy is too tempting a prospect to pass up. He nods as soon as the first option leaves Zhongli's lips and finishes drying him off, his touch lingering over the hard planes and built muscles of the other's body. It's an appreciative touch, a desiring look, but surprisingly enough he keeps his hands to himself and makes his way out of the bathroom and to the bedroom.

The room is chilly, enough to make goosebumps rise up along his skin. Despite the Harbinger's wealth it seemed like there was only so much one could do to protect against the natural elements. Mercifully, he's nearly fully dry by the time he reaches the bed and he slides under the blankets with all the practiced ease of one that's done this thousands of times before.

From there he debates over sitting up against the headboard or laying flat on his back. He opts to lay on his back, stretching out, and he lets the robe fall open before turning his head to look at where Zhongli is. ]

There's lubricant in the drawer. Or if you'd prefer my tongue ... [ He says, and has the gall to smirk at the other man before pointing at his own face. ] Feel free to have a seat.

[It's at least worth noting that he's lost none of his muscle since leaving Liyue. Once Zhongli had healed enough, he'd started to set aside a small amount of time to practice and exercise, despite the sometimes exhausting play in his late nights. A routine helped him through to this point, and it will no doubt continue to do so.

And healed up, he's not quite as susceptible to the cold - it still raises goosebumps on his skin, but at least he won't devolve into tremors and shuddering. As Childe settles back, all confidence and gall, Zhongli considers his options again. Honestly, as angry as he is that the harbinger continues to force himself on him, he does enjoy his tongue...]

... you will no doubt enjoy either path.

[Exhaling a beleaguered sigh, the foreigner climbs onto the bed, resting one arm at the side of Childe's head. His hair falls in a brief curtain between them before his whole body shifts, knees taking the place of his hands.

If one didn't know their normal dynamic, one might think this was actually Zhongli's advantage, the way he peers down at the man.]

Come then. Show me again how irresistible I am.

[His back arches a little as he presents himself, one hand resting on the headboard. The other curves delicate fingers around one cheek, pulling the flesh back to expose his entrance and all the sensitive spots around it. His cock is still mostly hard from earlier even, only lending to the illusion of control in this instance.]

[ Zhongli can't see it from how he's positioned, but the way Childe's gaze lights up and then darkens with greedy, possessive intent is telling enough. There is no mistaking who holds the power here; Childe will be more than happy to carve it out with his tongue against Zhongli's insides, to brand him on the inside with heat and warmth while the flavor of him sits like the finest ambrosia over his tastebuds.

Callused fingers slide up to grip at the man's thighs, Childe arching himself up just enough that the other can feel the flicker of his tongue over his hole, teasing, tasting - and then the wet slurp as Childe parts his lips wide and laps at the rim before plunging his wet muscle deep inside of him. His hands squeeze affectionately at the grip on his thighs before sliding up, cupping at his cheeks and parting them to allow the Harbinger room to press forward and up and curl his tongue in insistent lapping motions along his inner walls.

Saliva and spit trickle down his chin as he works, and Childe consumes eagerly, the sounds of wetness and slickness interspersed around the howl of the storm outside. As was common for the nights that he usually spent with his head buried between his foreigner's shaking thighs, Childe ate him out lovingly, attentively, tongue furling and curling and lapping at his rim like he wanted to commit every inch of his body to memory.

The occasional groan he lets out is telling, a mixture of wanton desire and aggravated hunger coloring his voice in lewd tones. He enjoys this very, very much. ]

[At least, Zhongli is prepared for it. He knows what to expect when he presents himself, a pretty picture to be devoured.

Fingers curl around his thighs and he exhales a soft sigh at the teasing, his own hands coming to rest on the headboard.]

Ah-- there-

[It's a gasp as Childe's tongue dives into his hole, digging in deep and twisting against sensitive flesh. The pleasure of it is nothing new, but here, not trying to hide that he's feeling it, certainly is. He's in no rush, the idea of sitting himself down on his captor's cock still hard to swallow, easy to push off.

One hand slides down to brush through the harbinger's hair, stroking through it encouragingly as he bites his lip. As it stands, his cock feels almost painfully hard, and it makes it all the more easy to accept what he's planning on doing. It doesn't change him, he reminds himself. This is just... accumulated need and the fact that Childe deserves a little sympathy. Something like that.]

[ Zhongli's rising groans is music to his ears; he'd wrung enough pretty noises out of him over these past few weeks, but somehow, having the man sit on his face and instruct him was a lot more erotic than he'd expected it to be. He makes a mental note not to let this be a one-time thing if he can help it.

His fingers span the generous flesh of his ass, cupping and kneading - something he's taken to doing quite a lot lately, leaving no room for question as to how much the Harbinger enjoyed Zhongli's ass - ensuring he remains spread open enough for him to devour with his tongue. Hands in his hair compel him to move more aggressively, the hungry thrusts of his tongue taking on a feverish pace as he works to fuck Zhongli open around the thickest part of the wet muscle.

Occasionally he'll pull away just to tease the rim with little flicks and circling pressure, but ultimately he returns to the source of heat and warmth and pressure, tonguing the other's rim with a pleased, wrecked groan. His cock throbs and pulses insistently at being denied release, a bead of pre-cum rolling down from the head and trailing wetly down the length of his shaft.

He could absolutely spend the rest of his days with his head buried between Zhongli's legs, but he imagines that isn't good for his Harbinger duties. ]

[He almost risks losing control of the situation altogether. Letting Childe open him up was a wonderful mistake, and as his breath gets more ragged, hips rocking into the probing twist of his tongue, he struggles to remember what he's here to do.

Well, what he's agreed to do, really. In any case, he has to push at Childe's forehead before he forgets, inhaling a sharp breath.]

That's-- that's enough.

[Lord. It just brings to mind the many, many nights now where he's been laid out, the harbinger's cock teasing his entrance until he's fit to burst. And now... now, he'll actually get to feel it all. The idea is terrifying and exciting, and he bites Zhongli lip as he moves to push himself back up.

His immediate reaction after that is nearly to sink back down and let - make? No, let - Childe make him cum with just his tongue. Ignoring that, he inhales and exhales slow breaths, moving to position himself over his captor's cock and gripping it with one hand to position its slick head against his entrance. It won't be as hard as he might expect, he knows - Childe has stretched him far too many times to think his body isn't getting used to it, and the foreigner tries not to think of what that means.]

[ With a stiff grunt Childe falls back, lips glistening wetly in the aftermath. Lips press to the swell of a cheek before Zhongli can get too far away, and once the brunet has shifted down to reposition himself over the Harbinger’s hungry cock he readjusts his hands so they’re resting on the the foreigner’s hips instead.

Chide watches, breath held, as elegant fingers frame the shaft below, committing the image to memory. It looks almost like something out of an erotic picture. Something that should be immortalized in canvas with vibrant stokes of brush and paints. He thinks he knows an artist in the next village over who frequently did work for the Tsaritsa. Perhaps he could be persuaded with mora …

Ignoring the way his dick twitches in Zhongli’s hand, Childe turns his attention to the man above him. The way the other’s cheeks are still flushed with pleasure prompts heat to unfurl in his stomach, and his lips part for one breathless moment as though he wants to say something.

He’s never been stingy with his compliments. Zhongli knows how enamored he was with him, or if he didn’t he probably had an idea. But now, for whatever reason, Childe couldn’t think of a single thing to say to fill the moment.

He wants this. He wants this bad.

His fingers tighten over the foreigner’s hips and he draws in a shaky inhale, and only then does a single word fall from his lips. ]

Please…

[It only really, truly sinks in how obsessed with him Childe is when that word falls from his lips. That is, he'd been aware that he struggled to keep his hands to himself, that he planned on having Zhongli every way he could, but...

It makes something twist in his gut to hear him pleading like that. Given his circumstance, he shouldn't get used to feeling like he has any kind of advantage, but here they are.]

... are you afraid I'll change my mind?

[It's asked softly, with hands curled tight on his hips. If the harbinger wanted, he could pull his prize down and take him however he wanted. But... he doesn't, and that... well, it matters. It matters more than most things.

One hand shifts to rest on Childe's muscled, warm stomach, and he inhales a slow breath as he sinks down. The first inch or so is easy enough after all this time; the head of Childe's cock stretches him like an attentive lover, and the foreigner can't hold back the soft sigh as he feels it.

Then, he's lowering down more, and the stretching just one very skilled tongue can manage is rapidly tested. He feels huge, bigger somehow with every inch Zhongli buries inside himself, and the groan that escapes his parted lips is practically wrecked. Still gripped firmly in hand, his hips tremble as pressure mounts, and he rises up only to sink down and ease in another inch at a time.

Fuck. Fuck... he feels so nice. It's as different as he expected, enjoying the feeling of being stretched at his own urging.]

... big...

[It's an absent mumble, wrapped in a moan as he reaches the halfway point in Childe's cock. Having his entrance teased was nothing compared to this.]

[ Something affectionate and hot swells in Childe's chest at every little shift and nuance of Zhongli's expression, the Harbinger utterly, completely captivated by the sight above him. The foreigner's damp brown strands frame his face like a lover's touch, and Childe longs with want to sweep them away, to cup his face and whisper encouragements over how well he's sinking onto him.

Because he is big, and that was partly why he had held off on fucking into Zhongli like he'd wanted to before he was fully healed up. That and also possibly the realization that once he'd fully taken him, he'd never want to leave his bed ever again. Obsession was a scary thing.

It takes every single fiber of his being not to just thrust up into that yielding heat, not to spread the other's walls wide around the girth of his cock and imprint himself on his insides to feel for days after they're done here. His entire body trembles with the strain and the little bucks and shifts of his hips are things he could hardly be blamed for.

When Zhongli gets to the halfway point Childe lets his head fall back, throat bared as he groans long and steady, the sound vibrant and twisted into a Snezhnayan curse that's hissed into the silence of the room. Every inch Zhongli swallows into his body is another inch off his life. His fingers grip and squeeze and knead, doing everything except pull him down like he wants to and some distant part of his mind that isn't currently drowning in heat is hoping that Zhongli notices how well he's behaving.

It's different than just fucking his rim. It's different than opening him up with his tongue, spreading slickness and heat over Zhongli's insides. It feels like he's claiming him, like they're claiming each other, and it's that thought that makes his cock twitch in intense throbs against the brunet's inner walls, a fresh bead of pre-cum squeezed out at the tightness of him and smearing into his body like a mark of possession. ]

Fuuuuuuck... you feel -- you feel so fucking good...

[ His voice strains on every word. He's already coming undone, and he's not even all the way in yet. Fingers knead encouragingly on his hips and he almost bucks up, almost sinks himself balls deep the rest of the way in but he thinks better of it.

But gods, is it hard. ]

Keep going - I want to see myself inside you... [ His fingers shift from gripping to gently framing, and his thumb brushes over Zhongli's stomach, just at his navel. ] I'm gonna go right here, Zolotse...

[It feels like hours, just easing himself down an inch at a time. Zhongli finds it almost enough to drive him crazy fingers curled against Childe's stomach.

How much more is there, he wonders. He must be halfway or more... and as a result, he's quite aware of the effort the man must be making. Knowing what he asked for, it can't be easy to just keep touching and not pushing toward that end.]

I-- ah.

[Another inch or two sinks in, his body almost enthusiastic in accepting it, and his head tilted forward to watch hands move over his stomach, framing and brushing over his skin.]

That-- that isn't how it works, is it?

[Little does he know that's exactly how it works, and just another inch or so is all he'll need before he can feel the tip of his captor's cock against his skin.

It's enough to deepen the tinge of his cheeks, and the foreigner bites his lip as he continues. Another good thrust and--]

Nnnhh--!!

[It's almost sudden, the instant his hips press into Childe's, cock throbbing between them as the harbinger's bulges his belly just so.

He's going to lose his mind like this, he's sure of it. How is he supposed to keep enough sense to move when he feels so fucking full?]

I- I... fuck... it's so hot...

[He feels like it might burn him if he's not careful, pre-cum slicking his insides as he makes little, experimental movements that are enough to make his whole body tremble.

It wasn't supposed to feel this good, he thinks. Would it have, if Childe had just sunk balls-deep into him? He doesn't know, but right now, his fingers grip at the harbinger's shoulders, trying to work himself up to rising off that length.]

[ Childe thinks he can feel a bit of drool leaking past his lips at the feeling of being encased in tight, clenching heat, and the knowledge that it's his beloved prize he'd taken out of the burned out remains of the harbor is probably what's affecting him so strongly. Knowing that Zhongli is willingly taking him in, seating himself on his cock and sheathing him with the grace and dignity he affects at every waking moment... it takes every fiber of Childe's being not to just cum right then and there.

His fingers squeeze and clench on the other man's hips while he adjusts and the Harbinger is convinced for a moment that his vision has gone white. It's so hot, it's so tight inside of him, every throb and pulse of his dick met with what he can only assume is the steady thump of Zhongli's heart. ]

Zhongli... [ He keens, and his voice strains at the edges. Why hadn't he done this sooner? He should have done this as soon as he'd brought him home. ] Oh - oh, fuck, you feel so good -- [ It feels like he's babbling, praises in both the common tongue and in his native Snezhnayan spilling from his lips like the man's wringing all his secrets out of him. ]

I -- [ Blue eyes slit open and fixate on the protrusion in the foreigner's stomach right where he said it would be. ] -- oh God, I can see myself in you, fuu --

[ A hand unclenches the grip it's got on his hips to slide over and frame the imprint of his cock in the brunet's abdomen. Childe presses down gently with the tips of his fingers and the sudden pressure against where he's got his dick lodged as deep as it can go inside of the other is enough to make his vision actually go white.

He knows he promised him he wouldn't touch, but he's about to lose his fucking mind here. ]

If you don't start moving -- [ It comes out as a growl, a threat before he can reel it in, his blue eyes suddenly bright with a feral hunger. ] -- if you don't start moving, fuck, I'm gonna roll you over and fuck a baby into you.

[ The hand he's still got on Zhongli's hip squeezes in idle threat. By this point the brunet should realize when Childe was being serious - and also that he seldom could control himself when it came to the pretty foreigner in his bed. The late nights and early morning was proof enough of that. ]

[Zhongli is scarcely listening to the words; it's hard enough to keep his senses in mind as he sits on Childe's lap. Hard enough to think of moving before the man realises he's bulging his pet's belly.]

Wai-- wait-!

[Fingers press against his stomach and Zhongli gives a sharp little groan, his own hands gripping a little tighter at the harbinger's sides. Fuck, fuck, he feels nice like that...]

I just. Need a moment... I'm trying... [He doesn't think for a second that Childe won't do just that. Indeed, he's absolutely lost any upper hand he might have had, and just rising up an inch is a lesson in stimulation.]

How are you so... fuck... big?

[He's almost offended, as he rises up a couple of inches only to sink back down with a heady, needy moan. Gods, he almost wants to let himself be rolled over and fucked silly.

Honestly... if Childe's patience snapped, he doesn't think he'd even complain now. The idea of fucking a baby into him is illogical, of course, but he doesn't see the need to correct the harbinger on such a silly notion.]

[ If Childe didn't think Zhongli were beautiful before, he most certainly would now, watching this pretty thing struggle to accept the entirety of his cock inside his tight, clenching hole. His breath escapes him in a gasp for more, pleasure dripping off of every little noise he makes while he hands move to knead encouragingly at Zhongli's thighs.

He's trying so hard to restrain himself. After this - after this, he's going to demand some kind of recompense, he thinks. Maybe he'll take him again, and again, pound into the Liyuen's pliant hole until the fire burning under his skin is completely sated.

Knowing him, that would probably take until dawn.

In an effort to not unravel much too quickly for his liking, Childe focuses on anything else aside from the brunet squeezing around him so heavenly: the way his bare skin rises with goosebumps from a mixture of the cold and the stimulation on his cock; the howl of the wind outside, the Tsaritsa's ever-present storm a constant during their long nights wrapped up in each other; the rattling of the window panes as the winter storm batters and beats on it in an attempt to get inside.

And then, inevitably, the slow friction on his cock when the foreigner flexes his legs and lifts himself up before sinking down, the moan he lets out thrumming throughout the entirety of his body and, consequently, through Childe's dick where he's lodged deep inside of him.

It's the last push before his thread of control finally snaps, and with an iron-grip on Zhongli's generous ass, his fingers clenching and kneading the meat between them, he raises the other up enough until just the tip is lodges in him, pulling Zhongli up onto his knees - and then suddenly bucks up while pulling down, slamming his cock inside the deepest he's gone yet with a strangled sort of groan at the heat around him.

It's not unlike the way he'd fucked his rim before; only this time, of course, his strokes reach deeper, harder inside, Childe taking everything he wanted from Zhongli's hole sucking him in so greedily and forcing the man down onto his cock again and again, using him like he were nothing more than a hole to give him pleasure.

He should have done this ages ago. So much wasted time.. ]

[It's fine. Zhongli is getting used to it, and every movement is a little easier than the last, his heartbeat picking up somewhat as he rocks his hips.

And then, there are fingers gripping his hips, and they rise too high, too fast...]

Ah-- ah, wait, I-

[Childe pulls his hips down and thrusts up, and Zhongli howls at the sensation. It's too much, way too much, except... except it isn't, and his weight shifts to curl long fingers along Childe's shoulders as the harbinger forces his weight wherever he wants it. Oh, fuck, oh gods, his body keeps sucking the other's cock in, and his stomach bulges with each balls-deep thrust.

He's going to lose his mind, he's sure of it.]

[ The howling is like a direct line to his cock, and Childe feels himself groaning in reply. Each downward plunge he forces on Zhongli's body ensures he sheaths himself as deep inside as he possibly can, balls meeting the foreigner's ass with a meaty smack and the tip of his cock grinding against his insides to bulge out his stomach at every point.

He thinks he's saying words, his mouth is open to let out every single affection and moan and sigh of the other's name out, but he's not sure exactly what comes out of his mouth (a mixture of Snezhnayan and common, probably, pretty compliments paid specifically to Zhongli's ass and the heat of his body).

It's on a particularly heavy slam, Childe holding the other down by the hips so he can grind out the shape of his cock against his inner walls, that Childe flexes his strength and quickly rolls them both over. Now Zhongli lays under him, his back resting flush on the silken sheets and soft coverlets, and Childe gets to work quickly hauling up his legs to rest on his shoulders before he draws his hips back and fucks.

There's no teasing the rim with little kisses and grinds of the tip of his cock from all the nights before. No, instead he plunges in, forcing Zhongli's body wide around the thickest part of him, hilting himself in so deep the foreigner will be able to feel the ache for days. It doesn't even occur to him that this might be the brunet's first time; now that he's got a taste of what really fucking Zhongli is like, all the fondness and the obsessions he had with the man has built to a fever pitch, the emotions and the fascination he has with the pretty foreigner overflowing and overpowering much of his rational thought.

He should slow down, he thinks, as he braces his knees on the bed, readjusts his center of gravity and begins to absolutely ream the man's ass with every ounce of strength he had. Zhongli scarcely has time to bounce off the mattress with each thrust before Childe is bearing down upon him again, jackhammering into him with a frenzy and a hunger that's more violent than anything he'd shown yet. Pre-cum and his own spit slicks up Zhongli's inner walls, the excess from what he's leaking forced out around the thickness of his thrusting cock to stain the sheets in a slowly growling puddle of mess beneath him.

Childe fucks Zhongli like it's the last time he's ever going to fuck him, devouring and starving for it, throwing the entirety of his weight into each motion to ensure that Zhongli takes everything he has to give. ]

[There's really no admonishing Childe, is there? At first, Zhongli has no real options as the harbinger plunges him down onto his cock, struggling to breathe as it grinds every inch into his insides. There are words, he can hear, but even if he understood them, he's not sure if he would have really processed any.

Hips slam into his, and his voice is almost a whimper as he's stretched wide around the Snezhnayan's girth. It's enough to give him a tiny reprieve, at least, to catch his breath for a few precious seconds before cold sheets hit his back and earn a sharp little inhale.]

Childe, wait, pl--

[His urgent plea is cut off as Childe's hips fuck back into him, another helpless howl on his lips. His cheeks burn as the redhead plunges in, eyes squeezing tightly closed. He can't even manage to relax enough, pain dragging tension into his body, reminding him of just how fragile humans are. He doesn't even remember when he'd squeezed his eyes shut, but they sting with the burn of tears as his body is forced to stretch wide over the whole of his cock.

It hurts. There's pleasure too, though, and it's all the foreigner can do to remind himself that he accepted this. That makes it his own fault, doesn't it? He can't get a breath to even plead with his captor to slow down, to let him get used to it. Fingers fail in any attempt to work for a long moment, until they're suddenly scrabbling for purchase, trying to push Childe away from him. Gods, the pain has to fade, doesn't it? He's sure it must be going away slowly, right? He's dealt with so many worse injuries than this, ones with no undercurrent of pleasure.]

[ Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long before Childe can feel himself rapidly approaching his finish, the sensations of Zhongli squeezing around him so tightly coupled with his rising noises of pain and pleasure it works in tandem to push him closer and closer to the edge. His thrusts take on a desperate, almost violent pitch, the bed creaking erratically as though in protest as the Harbinger chases after his pleasure in the grip of the foreigner's body, his fingers gripping to bruises on hips as he leans back to get a good look at his face.

Only to pause when he sees the way Zhongli's expression is contorted into pain and he sees, for the first time, the way his hands push at him like he's trying to shove him off. His hips still, slowly, unable to stop completely with the friction still being granted to his dick, and Childe immediately cups at Zhongli's face with both his hands, alarm written all over his features. ]

Zhongli? Hey - hey, are you okay? Zhongli?

[ Was it... it couldn't have been his first time, right? Not someone as beautiful as Zhongli, despite the seriousness that he seemed to take his Millelith du-- oh.

... no, no, surely even someone like Zhongli would have found the time for an outlet of release, right? ... Right?

But he thinks back to how the foreigner had settled himself so slowly over him, how he'd whined and gasped about how big he was. Even if he wasn't a virgin, it was very obvious that he'd never taken something as big as Childe before, something that fills him with a fierce sense of pride and makes his cock throb where it's lodged deep inside him, unforgiving as a steel bar.

His voice is soft, concerned when he speaks next, and almost all the traces of desperation and hunger have dissipated. It's almost like he's been pulled out of whatever trance he's been in. ]

Am I hurting you?

[He slows, and the relief is absolutely palpable in Zhongli's body. Every breath is still difficult, and there's some anger in his glare in spite of the shimmer of wetness in his eyes.]

Of-- of course it hurts. It felt like you were tearing me apart.

[The tone of his voice is thin and breathy, fingers still trembling against Childe's shoulders. He's not pushing away anymore, trying not to squirm as the harbinger's cock throbs inside him. It doesn't hurt as much like this, just leaves him feeling terribly full.]

I told you, I was going as quickly as I could. It isn't as though I've done this before.

[His hips shift, and though there's a little flinch, the motion is largely pleasurable. After another moment, his voice feels almost as strong as normal. He has no idea he's just confirmed what Childe only just thought was practically impossible, of course. It's just a simple fact, to him.]

You could at least let me get used to it first.

[ Ah.

So all this time, Zhongli had never...? ]

You're -- you were a virgin? [ Were, because if he was he definitely wasn't now. Not after taking his tongue and his mouth and his fingers and his cock. Not after laying here, Childe's dick nestling somewhere deep inside of him, his ass pressed flush against the Harbinger's hips.

It's almost ludicrous, in a way, but also somewhat believable. He could believe that nobody had had a tongue silver enough to talk the brunet into getting into bed with them. Somehow the knowledge that he was Zhongli's first filled him with equal parts possessiveness and elation, even though the notion that the brunet had saved himself for marriage was a laughable one. ]

... Sorry, I just thought... [ Well. He wasn't sure what he thought. The image of Zhongli being debauched by another didn't seem quite right.

With a bit of a wince, Childe sits back further and jostles the dick inside of Zhongli. He's still hot and throbbing inside of him even if the mood had cooled a little.

With his eyes carefully trained on Zhongli's face he begins to pull out, the motion infinitely slow, tender, so that the brunet can feel every single inch and the release of pressure against his stomach as Childe's cock slips out of him in increments. A deep breath and then he's slowly, torturously, pressing himself back in, enough he can both see and feel the way Zhongli opens around him, how his hole clenches sweetly around his girth as though welcoming him back home. ]

... is this okay? Better?

Yes. I had never really had any interest. I would have thought that would be obvious from earlier.

[Perhaps there was a possibility he'd been fucked but never sucked dick, but that seemed pretty unlikely, didn't it? Then again, Zhongli... really doesn't know. He also doesn't know what to make of Childe's expression, whatever it was he thought.

The harbinger sits back and Zhongli inhales a sharp breath, his belly shifting with the length still so deep inside. Then... then he's moving, pulling out slowly, tenderly, and the hitch of breath is much easier, his expression and body not as tense as before. His stomach flattens out until Childe's hips start back inward. It's torturous, heavy, and he shudders out what's almost a sigh as that weight sinks back in. It's easy enough to read his expression, but he makes the effort to nod.]

Better. It still hurts a little, but I think-- that's going to happen anyway.

[After how rough he was being, Zhongli will no doubt have to actually have some time free of his cock to recover before it's even slightly pain-free.]

[ The stricken look on Childe's face says it all. He'd thought that Zhongli's barely passing interest in sleeping with him had more to do with his situation than any lack of real-world experience in the matter. While most would be jumping for joy at finding such a prized, virgin beauty, Childe instead felt horribly guilty.

(Though, admittedly, there was a darker, more obsessive part of him that relished in the notion that he was the first to touch Zhongli this way. He'll probably ruminate more on that later.)

At some point Childe shifts, leaning forward over Zhongli and pressing his legs open just a little bit more. He comes to rest first on his hands, then on his elbows over the other man, the action pressing himself in deep with a hitch of breath as he feels Zhongli's stomach bulge out around his cock. He definitely is big; there's no doubt about that. Perhaps there's something to the quip of things being bigger in Snezhnaya.

From there, it's simple to control the movement of his hips enough that he doesn't so much as thrust into the pretty foreigner as he does simply roll into him. Each slow drag of his cock along Zhongli's abused inner walls is like a constant, unending grind of friction that shoots pleasure directly into his stomach. Childe's pace is far more sinuous, much more sensual this time around, flooding Zhongli's senses with the feeling of cock sliding into him one slow, languishing inch at a time. And then out again, so that Zhongli can feel the way his body squeezes around nothing in degrees when Childe eases himself out to just the tip - and then in, again, the pace as gentle and slow as the rise and fall of breath.

His fingers clench into his fists, teeth finding his lower lip and biting into it. It takes a considerable amount of restraint to hold back on his baser instincts so he doesn't just pound into the man like he wants to. Perhaps Zhongli could appreciate the effort. ]

... Hhhhh, Zhongli... you feel so good around me...

[ Unable to help himself, and desperately looking for any kind of distraction to get him through this, he dips his head and begins to kiss and suck along the immaculate skin of the foreigner's pale neck. His knees slipping on the covers ends up plunging him in a little too deeply, a little too quickly, ripping a strangled sort of noise out of his throat before he quickly pulls out and resumes his gentle pace. ]

You're so hot... so tight, so good for me...

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