[ when Zhongli tightens his legs around his hips, it's then that Childe knows he's probably, definitely in trouble. the look the Liyuen gives him, equal parts coy and innocent, is like a direct his straight to his groin. buried as deep as he is inside of the other man Zhongli can no doubt feel the way he twitches, the way his cock throbs in interest at every filthy word that leaves his mouth.
he likes that. he definitely likes that.
if Childe were at all aware of the fate that would befall him upon coming to Liyue, his future as the bedmate of the twin of Liyue's mafia head, doubtless he would have prepared better.
there would probably be time for that later. for now - Zhongli was waiting.
the rhythm he starts up is short, almost deceptively gentle; his hips pull back, dragging with it the few remnants of cum in thick, viscous globs that ooze down Zhongli's pale, pretty thighs. he can see where it shines pretty on his cock before the shower washes it away and down the drain, feel it smother and coat his flesh where he's still got the tip buried inside the other man. with a slow roll forward that's as easy and soft as the cadence of breathing, he reseats himself, stretching out Zhongli's tight insides again as he plunges in and settles in deep.
he's still moving, still fucking inside of him in languid rolls of his hips when he speaks again, voice a low murmur barely heard above the spray of water. ]
You'd reduce yourself to being nothing but my cocksleeve, Zhongli? [ even if the words could be taken as degrading, as tearing down the other man and reducing him to nothing better than an experienced whore, there's nevertheless a fond note of affection in his voice. ] Only existing to be fucked by me, to be filled again and again until I'm satisfied? You wouldn't want to leave if it meant depriving yourself of my cock?
no subject
he likes that. he definitely likes that.
if Childe were at all aware of the fate that would befall him upon coming to Liyue, his future as the bedmate of the twin of Liyue's mafia head, doubtless he would have prepared better.
there would probably be time for that later. for now - Zhongli was waiting.
the rhythm he starts up is short, almost deceptively gentle; his hips pull back, dragging with it the few remnants of cum in thick, viscous globs that ooze down Zhongli's pale, pretty thighs. he can see where it shines pretty on his cock before the shower washes it away and down the drain, feel it smother and coat his flesh where he's still got the tip buried inside the other man. with a slow roll forward that's as easy and soft as the cadence of breathing, he reseats himself, stretching out Zhongli's tight insides again as he plunges in and settles in deep.
he's still moving, still fucking inside of him in languid rolls of his hips when he speaks again, voice a low murmur barely heard above the spray of water. ]
You'd reduce yourself to being nothing but my cocksleeve, Zhongli? [ even if the words could be taken as degrading, as tearing down the other man and reducing him to nothing better than an experienced whore, there's nevertheless a fond note of affection in his voice. ] Only existing to be fucked by me, to be filled again and again until I'm satisfied? You wouldn't want to leave if it meant depriving yourself of my cock?