[ The friction of Zhongli rocking against him is indescribable, heat pooling in his belly and stoking with every buck of the man's hips against his own. He's far from the mild-mannered, almost oblivious man Childe had met in the alleyway; now, he was almost too sensual to be believed, and it had him wondering if maybe he hadn't been hiding this side of him all along. He thinks back to the few almost-propositions and debates what would have happened if Childe had chosen to take him to bed before he ever met Rex Lapis.
He can't really consider it a missed opportunity now, considering what he was going to do to him in a few minutes.
Or... he would have, if Zhongli hadn't suddenly gone feral and yanked his head back, the sharp press of teeth and the wet swipe of tongue making itself known on his throat with such intensity his hands stutter where they're working to divest Zhongli of his pants. The noise he makes - a low, aching groan of want that vibrates in the air and in his chest - echoes even around the spray of the water all around them, and it doesn't take much to coax him to shove at the man in front of him, twisting his body so he can try and shove him up against the wall.
Zhongli's hand in his pants is met with a resounding growl of challenge, and while he's grateful for the loosening of his jeans it's not nearly enough to make him want to let Zhongli take the lead. He returns the favor by tipping his head and sinking his teeth into the other's neck with intent to mark, to bruise, one leg sliding between the other's own to part them while hands slide under his shirt and claw at his stomach and torso before he starts peeling the wet fabric off of him. ]
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He can't really consider it a missed opportunity now, considering what he was going to do to him in a few minutes.
Or... he would have, if Zhongli hadn't suddenly gone feral and yanked his head back, the sharp press of teeth and the wet swipe of tongue making itself known on his throat with such intensity his hands stutter where they're working to divest Zhongli of his pants. The noise he makes - a low, aching groan of want that vibrates in the air and in his chest - echoes even around the spray of the water all around them, and it doesn't take much to coax him to shove at the man in front of him, twisting his body so he can try and shove him up against the wall.
Zhongli's hand in his pants is met with a resounding growl of challenge, and while he's grateful for the loosening of his jeans it's not nearly enough to make him want to let Zhongli take the lead. He returns the favor by tipping his head and sinking his teeth into the other's neck with intent to mark, to bruise, one leg sliding between the other's own to part them while hands slide under his shirt and claw at his stomach and torso before he starts peeling the wet fabric off of him. ]