Childe entered the restaurant with a jaunty stride and cheerful wave at the proprietor. “My partner reserved a room for us,” Childe said, pulling out a bag of Mora. “I’ll be paying the bill.”
The profound relief on the proprietor’s face said that he’d been fully prepared to suffer through Zhongli’s habit of forgetting how money worked, and Childe laughed. He dropped the Mora into the proprietor’s hands and strode towards the back, hands in his pockets. He didn’t have time to deal with ordinary civilians right now, and the extra Mora in the pouch should buy discretion just as well as their reputations would.
But just in case, Childe turned back at the door. “If you interrupt us, you will suffer the consequences.” Watching blood drain from a man’s face was invigorating, Childe thought, and he smiled. “So glad you understand,” he purred, and then left the man behind.
Finding Zhongli was never difficult. He wanted the finest room with the most elaborate decor, and when they found a new meeting place—courtesy of their mutual wanderings—Zhongli would advise Childe on which room to approach.
The contract also specified how Childe should approach, despite the way that hadn’t changed in the dozens of encounters they’d had. Zhongli preferred these things spelled out, just in case, and it settled the chaos in Childe’s gut to know that Zhongli gave such attention to detail. There was no way that Childe could forget what he was supposed to do, when he was in Zhongli’s care.
Childe paused at the top of the second flight of stairs, where a single door faced him. He smoothed down his hair, made sure no travel dust remained on his clothes, and then knocked thrice before waiting, hands clasped behind his back.
At the count of ten, as always, the door opened.
Zhongli faced him, amber eyes luminous, a quiet smile on his face. He wore gold today, Childe noticed, a sun-bright wrapped robe loosely tied around his broad chest and hiding what Childe was certain would be dark leather pants to match the boots.
“Enter,” Zhongli said after a moment, stepping aside. “Your clothes are behind the screen.”
Childe bowed slightly in acknowledgement. His skin began tingling at the thought of discovering what Zhongli had chosen for him today. “Your Snezhnayan outfit is unfitting for our engagements,” Zhongli had said during their initial negotiations. “You will provide me with your specifications so that I can acquire a better wardrobe.” Childe had been happy to agree, handing Zhongli plentiful Mora along with his measurements and suggestions for clothes he knew better than to wear in his role as Harbinger.
Zhongli closed the door behind him. Childe didn’t look back, proceeding not towards the table—loaded with Liyue food, smelling like fried vegetables and marinated chicken—but towards the screen hiding one corner of the small room. It was probably decorative most of the time; Childe was fairly certain Zhongli had moved it to ensure the room fit his specifications. Especially since Childe realised that the large windows gracing the pavilion room’s walls extended behind the screen.
Childe paused, still fully dressed, looking out the window. It overlooked the road. No other nearby building was as tall; nobody should be able to look in and see him.
It didn’t change the way he was acutely aware of stripping, removing every single element of his everyday outfit, and turning instead to the clothes Zhongli provided. The only stipulation in their contract was that it would be “appropriate for the engagement”, which could mean practically anything. Childe could ask, if he wished—Zhongli wouldn’t deny him knowledge if he needed it for comfort—but he liked being surprised.
Today, Childe’s mouth dried up as he looked at the outfit Zhongli had chosen. Matte velvet, dark as midnight—as the Abyss, hissed the part of him that could never forget—dripping with floral lacework and garnished with silver bells that chimed softly as he picked up the dress and slipped it over his head. The inner lining was silk charmeuse, cool against his skin, a true black to contrast the rich blue-purple of the velvet. It left his shoulders bare, dipped down to expose much of his back, and barely cradled his chest within its lacy confines; his nipples were hidden by centimeters, and taking a deep breath might change that.
Childe didn’t test that just yet. His attention was occupied by what the dress had hidden: long stockings in the same deep midnight shade, and a leather garter belt with silver clips. Soft suede shoes with star-shaped buckles completed the ensemble. No pants, lingerie, or anything else to even pretend like it would cover his ass or groin any more than the skirt that—thankfully—almost reached his knees.
His cock, already waking up from the texture of the dress, throbbed at the thought of being so exposed for Zhongli’s touch. Childe bit his lip. He could not go before Zhongli already erect; that wasn’t the point of this part of the game. This was about self-control, and about Zhongli breaking it with careful hands and a penetrating gaze. Penetrating, Childe realised a moment later, was the wrong word to have used if he was trying to calm his cock.
Childe closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, visualizing the cold ice fields he’d grown up around. The way snow lay on trees. The winter sun’s light multiplied by ice. The many layers he wore.
Quiet. Simple. Nothing like the present.
Childe reached for the garter belt and focused on the motions of arranging it beneath his dress. It had a setting for his Vision; Childe inserted it, the cool stone nestling against his navel, just as it did in his everyday clothes. It was a kind touch, Childe thought as he rolled the stockings up his legs. He secured them with the garter belt, then leaned down to fasten the shoes. He could, just barely, feel wind brushing between the stockings and the skirt to tease his thighs.
Childe straightened, then turned towards the mirror he knew Zhongli would have prepared for him.
In front of it were noctilucous jade earrings. They glimmered softly as Childe raised them and set them in his ears, where they dangled down to brush the hinge of his jaw. Childe licked his lips and raised his eyes to the mirror.
The person who gazed back at him looked nothing like the Childe Tartaglia, Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. Blue eyes burned bluer with noctilucous jade framing them above a dress of the night sky, his Vision’s barely visible innate light drawing attention to his too-accessible crotch. His hair looked like an eclipse halo, or like the touch of Zhongli’s Geo energy upon his body.
He wasn’t certain how long he stood there, staring at himself, remembering who he was in this room—in this role—before Zhongli called, “Are you ready, Ajax?”
“Yes,” Ajax said, turning from the mirror. He could feel his cock brushing across his thighs as he moved, and the way it wanted to reach for the smooth inside of his dress, but he willed it to wait. Zhongli would reward him well, if he could simply wait.
Not that Zhongli made it easy. Ajax stopped cold as he stepped from behind the screen and caught sight of Zhongli.
He sat in a chair, lounging indolently. The golden wrap he’d greeted Childe with was gone, revealing black leather straps crossing his pale skin. His pants, at least, were as expected: supple leather, a second skin over his thick thighs, laced loosely over the bulge at his crotch. Ajax dragged his eyes away from the amber glow leaking through the laces, following Zhongli’s suspenders up from his waist and across the soft curves of his stomach to his amble chest, where a network of leather supported his plump tits.
All that softness hid muscles, Ajax knew, and he wanted to nuzzle into Zhongli and dig his fingers into the rolls of flesh until he found the solidity beneath.
“Look at me, Ajax,” Zhongli said, and Ajax made himself meet Zhongli’s gaze. Amber. Alight with power. Gentle, until someone crossed him.
Ajax had made that mistake before. He would not make it again.
“Come here,” Zhongli said, patting his lap. Ajax hoped he wasn’t imagining the way Zhongil’s long fingers lingered on his crotch, the way his hips rolled up into the touch. He wanted Zhongli to have been touching himself while Ajax got dressed, wanted to feel the hardness of Zhongli’s cock beneath him as he sat.
When Ajax made to straddle Zhongli, though, Zhongli shook his head. “Across my lap, Ajax. You travelled quite a distance today, and I won’t have you exhausting yourself without eating first.”
“I’m not hungry,” Ajax grumbled, but he planted himself on Zhongli’s lap as requested. He could lean into Zhongli at least; his side against Zhongli’s chest, his cheek on Zhongli’s temple. Ajax looped his arm around Zhongli’s neck, dangling his hand down to tease Zhongli’s helpfully bared nipple. “I mean, I’m hungry for you, but—”
“Eat,” Zhongli said firmly. He lifted a fried piece of tofu with his finely-decorated chopsticks and held it in front of Ajax’s mouth. “You know the rules.”
Ajax sighed. “Yes, lao-ye,” he groused, but he didn’t argue further. The rules, in this case, were that Zhongli was the one who would decide when and how they would fuck. Ajax was here for his own pleasure and for Zhongli’s enjoyment, and if Zhongli’s desires were to feed him good food, then Ajax couldn’t complain.
It was good, too, crisp and warm and lightly coated with a sweet ginger sauce. Ajax licked his lips with a hum of pleasure. He didn’t stop toying with Zhongli’s breast, though, and he let himself wiggle in satisfaction in hopes of grinding down on Zhongli’s cock. From Zhongli’s amused expression, he knew exactly what Ajax was up to, but he didn’t stop Ajax, so it was an acceptable response.
After three minutes passed, Zhongli feeding Ajax tidbits of excellent food and Ajax attempting to speed up Zhongli’s plans, Ajax realised why Zhongil was allowing this: Ajax was working himself up, and torturing himself with growing arousal. Zhongli’s nipples might be hard and his cheeks were growing flushed, but his attitude hadn’t changed at all and his cock was still quiescent beneath Ajax’s thighs.
Ajax’s cock, however, was happy to thicken and twitch against the soft fabric of his dress. Zhongli didn’t comment on it, but Ajax was certain he had noticed and was simply being polite and not commenting upon Ajax’s lack of composure. It was awful. It was great. Ajax covered himself with one hand—he didn’t want to rush Zhongli’s prelude—even though it took all his concentration to avoid stroking himself.
At last, Zhongli set down his chopsticks. “Drink,” he said, handing Ajax a teacup that smelled like crisp ginger. The flavor bloomed on Ajax’s tongue, burned down his throat, and he drank the cup dry; he hadn’t realised how thirsty he’d become. Zhongli smiled at him as he set the cup down on the table. “Now,” Zhongli said, his deep voice rumbling through Ajax, “we begin. Kneel.”
Ajax slid off Zhongli’s lap and onto the ground in one smooth motion. He looked up at Zhongli, all too aware of how this placed his face just above Zhongli’s crotch, and clutched the hem of his dress. He wasn’t allowed to talk or act without Zhongli’s permission, once the scene began. Ajax could look, though, and admire the hidden muscles of Zhongli’s body, imagine having those thighs wrapped around his face, think about the taste of Zhongli’s skin.
Zhongli looked at him, too, his smile sharpening. He reached out and stroked Ajax’s hair. “Be a good girl and unlace me,” Zhongli said. Ajax sucked in a breath, both at the touch and at the endearment. Good girl. He should have known from the clothing, or maybe even remembered from the contract. He hadn’t, though, because Zhongli didn’t care about social convention when he could instead consider aesthetic, and his aesthetic sense was both broad and finely-honed.
“Yes, Daddy,” Ajax breathed. Zhongli patted his head, a reward, and so Ajax knew he’d chosen correctly. He nuzzled against the thin leather covering Zhongli’s thigh, a second skin that Ajax sometimes suspected mimicked the draconic form Zhongli had shed and left behind, and then reached for the laces keeping those tight leather pants on Zhongli’s body.
The lace stood out, pale amber against the dark brown pants, and it was easy to pull it through the eyelets. As the leather slid away from Zhongli, it revealed not skin but the throbbing light of a crystal-laced rock. Ajax’s heart sped up at the sight, his own legs spreading just a little further apart in anticipation and arousal at the sight of Zhongli’s cock, kept snugly attached by leather straps and a bulb that sank into Zhongli’s pussy to anchor it and give the shape of balls.
Ajax didn’t know what Zhongli’s cock was made of. It could be some rare Liyue mineral, a shard of whatever formed Zhongli’s gnosis, or a piece of Morax’s exuvia. He didn’t ask, because then Zhongli might disabuse him of the notion that Zhongli had repurposed his old form’s cock and shaped it into the one he now wore, and Ajax liked the idea that he got fucked with a dragon god’s dick.
“Daddy,” Ajax said, staring at Zhongli’s cock. “Daddy, can I suck you?”
“Ah, that’s why you’re my best girl,” Zhongli purred, settling his fingers in Ajax’s hair. He tugged Ajax forward, sending a shiver down his spine “Yes, Ajax, I want your pretty mouth on my cock.”
He’d been given permission; he didn’t need to wait any longer. Ajax opened his mouth and licked the luminous stone. Zhongli smelled like dust and sunlight, and the leather of his pants and harness added musk to the blend, all of which filled Ajax’s nose and made Zhongli taste like summer.
Ajax stroked Zhongli’s cock with one hand, lifting the shaft until he could slip it into his mouth. There was no give, of course—for all the magic pulsing through Zhongli’s cock it was still a rock—but it was smooth, almost soft, against his lips. Right now, before Zhongli was erect, Ajax could almost fit the entirety of Zhongli’s cock in his mouth without choking on it. Zhongli made a soft sound, the first crack in his composure, and Ajax eagerly chased it.
He filled himself with Zhongli, dipping his head until his nose was buried against Zhongli’s coarse pubic hair and his chin brushed the edge of the chair Zhongli sat in. A choked sound—a curse, maybe—came from Zhongli’s throat, but it was much less relevant than Zhongli’s cock humming in Ajax’s mouth, magic tingling into his teeth, his throat, his tongue. It buzzed through him, and Ajax groaned, unable to make any further sound, and clutched at Zhongli’s hips as he sucked Zhongli’s cock.
“So good, baby girl,” Zhongli murmured. “Go on, princess, just like that.” His hands moved restlessly against Ajax’s hair, petting and pulling in erratic rhythms. Ajax whimpered as Zhongli’s hips rolled into him, forcing Zhongli’s cock almost painfully far into his throat. He wasn’t ready for more, especially when he couldn’t tell how big Zhongli’s cock was going to be.
It felt good to have Zhongli in his mouth, though. Ajax let Zhongli’s hands be his guide as he slid his lips along Zhongli’s cock, jaw slowly opening wider as Zhongli’s cock thickened and grew. Zhongli praised him, words shaky and interspersed with moans, and it warmed Ajax from the core out. He loved this feeling, the intoxicating idea that he was drawing such beautiful reactions from an Archon; that he was the source of an Archon’s pleasure; that he could give an Archon what he needed.
“Use your hands too,” Zhongli ordered. He spread his legs, shifting a little further off the chair, and Ajax moved with him, straightening as Zhongli slouched. He couldn’t answer with his words, so he nodded, head bobbing on Zhongli’s magnificent cock, and unclenched one hand from Zhongli’s strong hip.
Ajax trailed his fingers down the curve of Zhongli’s butt, under his thigh, and to the root of Zhongli’s cock where it sat in his pussy. The stone there was slick, and Ajax pressed his fingers into that moisture, calling on his Vision to multiply it until wetness pooled in his palm and coated his fingers. Ajax closed his hand around Zhongli’s cock—his fingers barely reached his thumb—and drew his hand up the shaft of Zhongli’s cock, twisting his hand with the motion to coat the entire length.
Zhongli’s hips jerked at the sensation, thrusting into Ajax’s mouth. His cock scraped the roof of Ajax’s mouth, and Ajax pulled off with a wince, replacing his mouth with his hand. Zhongli moaned as Ajax rolled his palm across the cock’s smooth amber head, fingers tightening in Ajax’s hair. Ajax bent, groaning at the pull against his scalp, sucking on the wet dome of Zhongli’s balls. The slick there was warm and salty, unmistakably human in stark contrast to the hard stone of Zhongli’s inhuman cock.
“Up, princess,” Zhongli gasped, tugging insistently. Ajax licked his way up Zhongli’s cock, taking his time, remembering to follow his tongue with his fingers to make sure Zhongli would be ready for what Ajax was pretty sure came next.
Ajax kissed the tip of Zhongli’s cock—drawing a gorgeous sound from his throat—and then sat back on his heels to admire Zhongli. It was hard to appreciate all of him when sucking his cock, because Zhongli’s cock was worth plenty of attention on its own. It pulsed with golden light, shimmering through the wetness Ajax had spread across its beautiful length. Ajax kept stroking, the glow chasing his fingers, as he trailed his eyes across Zhongli’s body.
The curves of Zhongli’s stomach shivered with his panting breaths. His chest might do the same, if it weren’t so lovingly held in place by leather straps. Still, Zhongli’s tight nipples begged Ajax to bite at them, especially since Zhongli’s chest was already flushed. Ajax wanted to decorate the rolling expanse of Zhongli’s body with bites, feel him shudder beneath teeth and tongue, and hear Zhongli cry out his name as Ajax sucked on his beautiful tits.
Zhongli might be thinking about the same thing, from the look on his face. Mouth parted and lower lip reddened like he’d been biting it. Half-lidded eyes fixed on Ajax. Predatory, momentarily satisfied but ready to devour at a moment’s notice.
Breathlessly, his voice rough from the blowjob, Ajax said, “You’re gorgeous, Daddy.”
“Come here, pretty girl,” Zhongli said, dragging Ajax up from where he knelt on the floor.
Ajax staggered to his feet. He hadn’t realised that his knees were sore, or that his feet had gone a little numb, or that his cock was so invested in the blowjob he’d been giving. Every movement sent it against his thighs and his dress, sticky flesh and silken fabric, and there was no way for Zhongli not to notice or for Ajax to pretend he didn’t want more.
Zhongli’s lazy smile was matched with his hands smoothing down Ajax’s chest. They stopped at his hips, drawing the dress a little tighter against his cock but not doing anything. Ajax whimpered a little, swaying into Zhongli’s touch.
“So eager,” Zhongli murmured, squeezing Ajax’s waist. “Now, be a good girl and come sit on Daddy’s lap.”
Ajax eyed the cock jutting up in the middle of Zhongli’s lap. It glistened, a promise that it could slide into him easily, especially since Ajax was practiced at this. “Yes, Daddy,” Ajax said, and climbed onto Zhongli’s strong thighs. As his stocking-clad legs brushed against the leather, and Zhongli’s fingers stayed firmly on the other side of his night-velvet dress, Ajax found himself acutely aware of how there was nothing covering his ass but the skirt’s folds.
Zhongli guided him down, and Ajax leaned forward, bracing his hands on Zhongli’s shoulders. The first touch of Zhongli’s cock was cold against his skin, the head unforgiving and obvious as it parted Ajax’s cheeks and Zhongli firmly pressed Ajax onto its rounded tip.
“Daddy,” Ajax gasped, instinctively trying to tighten against the intrusion even though he knew that was a bad idea.
“Be good for me, princess.” Zhongli’s thumbs rubbed against the crest of his hips, and he looked up at Ajax with a warm smile. “You can take it.”
Ajax nodded. He let his arms and Zhongli’s hands take more of his weight, legs becoming useless as he relaxed into the hard press of Zhongli’s stone cock. It buzzed against him, Zhongli’s magic vibrating through his muscles, easing the way as much as the wetness Ajax had taken care to add.
Slowly, inch by inch, Ajax took Zhongli’s cock. He was whining, gasping for breath, clutching Zhongli’s shoulders by the time his ass met Zhongli’s thighs. He’d done this before. He’d do it again. And yet, each and every time he was surprised by how much bigger Zhongli felt in his ass compared to in his hand. It was the solidity, the stone unrelenting as it stretched Ajax and Zhongli claimed his rightful spot inside him.
Ajax curled forward into Zhongli’s embrace, breath coming heavy as he adjusted to the feeling of Zhongli’s cock. He loved the fullness, loved the way Zhongli’s hips kept slowly rolling against him, loved the tender way Zhongli ran his hands along Ajax’s spine and said, “Good girl.”
“Daddy,” Ajax begged, not entirely sure what he was asking for. Ajax lifted his face, kissed Zhongli, tasting the same salt-dust-sunshine of his magic on his tongue as on his cock. This was easy, familiar; he was taller than Zhongli even when they stood normally, and being on Zhongli’s lap just increased the distance. The pleasant sensation of Zhongli’s lips on his was grounding, especially when Zhongli rested a hand on the nape of his neck.
Zhongli pulled back, just a little, to say, “I know you want to be fucked, princess. But be good and wait a little first; your body needs time to adjust.”
“I don’t want to wait,” Ajax grumbled. His hands drifted down from Zhongli’s broad shoulders, following the lines of his harness to his tits. He couldn’t convince Zhongli with his words, but if he could entice Zhongli to move… Ajax gently squeezed Zhongli’s tits, their plush softness stark contrast to the hard rod in his ass.
Zhongli made a small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, and leaned back in his chair. “I know what you’re doing,” Zhongli said, but he didn’t try to stop Ajax. He just returned the favor, smoothing his hand up Ajax’s stomach and onto his chest, rubbing against the lace so that it almost caught on his nipples but didn’t quite.
Ajax whined, which he really should’ve expected, because Zhongli always found a way to turn the tables on him. He squirmed, trying to get Zhongli’s hands to touch his nipples, but that just made him gasp at the reminder of how solidly he was impaled on Zhongli’s cock. Zhongli didn’t seem to care, even though Ajax knew he was clenching around the stone cock, and that there was some kind of magical feedback filtering back to Zhongli from its surface.
Ajax’s hands closed around Zhongli’s tits more firmly than he’d planned as he tried to steady himself. “Sorry, Daddy,” he said automatically, trying to change his grip to the leather surrounding Zhongli’s chest instead.
“It’s okay,” Zhongli said. His fingers brushed Ajax’s throat, which was definitely a warning against Ajax doing that again. “Let me show you what it feels like.”
Zhongli grabbed Ajax’s chest. Muscle didn’t squish the way tits did, but it didn’t matter, not with Zhongli’s strength. His fingers dug into Ajax, a calm smile on his face, and Ajax groaned. There wasn’t anything else he could do, not with his back arching and his hands fisted around Zhongli’s harness and his ass reminding him of how every little movement sent shivers along his spine.
“Are you ready, princess?” Zhongli asked, more like he was asking Ajax if he’d put his shoes and coat on than if his ass had adjusted to Zhongli’s cock.
Ajax nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to make any sounds beyond high-pitched gasps.
Zhongli released his chest. Ajax relaxed for a moment at the relief, and Zhongli took that opportunity to begin fucking him. The roll of his hips into Ajax sent waves of sensation—too harsh to be pure pleasure, too sweet to be called pain—through his core.
Ajax rode the motion, leaning into Zhongli’s strength and stretching his toes to the ground to brace himself. It was barely enough to lift him above Zhongli’s thighs where they pressed against his, spreading his legs further apart, opening him up for Zhongli. “Daddy,” Ajax moaned, hoping that Zhongli would be able to interpret what he was asking for.
“Do you need something, princess?” Despite the question, Zhongli released Ajax’s chest like he already knew what Ajax was going to ask for. His fingers trailed down Ajax’s torso, smoothing the cool silk of his dress over the heat building under Ajax’s skin. It felt almost like water, and Ajax whined, trying to raise his cock into the sensation. Zhongli’s hands stopped at Ajax’s waist, and he smiled up at Ajax with bright eyes. “Good girls ask, Ajax.”
“I can’t hold myself up, Daddy,” Ajax managed. His voice broke in a hot rush of mortification as he begged, “Please hold me, Daddy. Please touch me, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” Zhongli breathed, and his fingers slid the final distance to Ajax’s ass, staying on top of his dress. Ajax couldn’t see what it looked like, but he knew how fine the cloth was, and how much slick he’d left on Zhongli’s cock, and how his Vision was glowing with his need to keep his ass wet. The relief of Zhongli holding him up mingled with his awareness of the stains they were going to leave on this beautiful outfit.
Then Zhongli tilted Ajax’s hips a little, and a guttural cry broke from Ajax’s throat as his back arched and his eyes squeezed shut.
He couldn’t think about anything other than his own ragged breathing, and the slap of skin against skin, and the way Zhongli was so strong. Zhongli was holding him up, was fucking him, was turning his insides into a soft swamp of pleasure. Ajax could relax into him and attend to nothing more than the fluids of his body; his Hydro Vision attuned him to such things. The pulse of blood in his body. The drip of precome from his cock. The slide of Zhongli’s cock, its Geo power resonating against Ajax’s Hydro and setting up a buzzing hum through his core.
“My good girl wanted to be touched,” Zhongli said, and his voice broke through Ajax’s haze. “Where should I touch you?”
“Cock,” Ajax gasped. He could feel it bouncing between his legs, brushing against his dress, heavy and full and needy. “Please, Daddy.”
“How could I deny my good girl?” Zhongli shifted his grasp on Ajax to free one hand. “Do you like the dress?” he asked, the growl in his voice the only betrayal of his arousal and exertion.
Ajax nodded, uncertain of where this was going, especially since Zhongli’s thrusts were slowing down.
“I don’t know if it’s going to be possible to fully clean it by the time I’m done with you.” Zhongli laid his hand over Ajax’s cock, then slowly closed his fingers around the shaft, covering it with midnight-blue fabric. “I’m sure you’re going to try anyway.”
Ajax whined, trying to rock his hips into Zhongli’s grasp, but he didn’t have the leverage. “Daddy,” he begged, opening his hands where they’d been fastened to Zhongli’s harness. He kneaded at Zhongli’s tits, knowing that Zhongli liked that, hoping that it would make Zhongli touch him more, give him what his body craved.
Every movement of Zhongli’s hand was amplified by his desire. When Zhongli idly rubbed his thumb over the tip of Ajax’s cock, pressing the dress into it, it felt like lightning shooting through Ajax’s body. He moaned, unable to form even a single word through the intensity of sensation.
Zhongli laughed fondly, and Ajax felt cooling moisture following the path of Zhongli’s fingers. “Oh, you’re such a good girl,” Zhongli murmured. “Look at you!”
As much as Ajax liked looking at Zhongli’s beautiful face, he couldn’t disobey. He glanced down and saw copious precome leaking from his cock and staining the fine fabric where Zhongli had drawn it tight. Ajax flushed, squirming at how Zhongli’s long fingers wrapped around his cock, sliding along velvet and making it shine until the darker wetness spread and turned it sticky and matte.
Plus, it felt good.
Ajax knew that Zhongli’s fingers were smooth and softer than he ever expected, but the dress’ silken lining glided even more easily along his skin. He moaned, shifting on Zhongli’s cock, awareness catching on every way his clothing pressed into him. It was filthy enough to know that he could wear an outfit like this and nobody would ever know he was so easy to fuck; seeing evidence of the fucking was yet more thrilling.
“You’re so wet for me, princess,” Zhongli crooned. “Now, be good; don’t come until I say you can.” Then, without any more warning, Zhongli began moving his hand and hips in concert, trapping Ajax’s groin between them and then drawing apart in a long slow stroke.
Ajax held on to Zhongli and shook. Without Zhongli’s order, he could have come from the first stroke alone. Everything sang, bright as the world after a rainstorm, sweet as water on a hot day, filling him and consuming him. The vibration of Zhongli’s cock just added to it, pulsing against his prostate as Zhongli kept fucking him, inexhaustible, unchanging as the mountains or the tides.
He didn’t know how much time passed before Zhongli came. He just knew that his thighs were trembling, and his cock ached, and his ass was just a hole for Zhongli’s enjoyment. When Zhongli stiffened, a guttural groan coming from his throat as hot fluid spilled into Ajax’s ass, it was a relief to be so filled.
“Daddy,” Ajax begged, grinding down against Zhongli now that Zhongli was still, “please, Daddy, let me come.”
Zhongli closed his hand around the base of Ajax’s cock, squeezing him in a reminder to control himself. “Give Daddy a kiss,” Zhongli said, finally sounding a little breathless in the afterglow of his orgasm. “Then ask again.”
Ajax bent his head to Zhongli’s, bringing his hands up to cup Zhongli’s skull, and kissed him. Sweetly at first, almost chaste—let Zhongli get a taste of his own teasing medicine—until Zhongli pinched his ass and Ajax’s mouth opened in surprise. Then Zhongli’s tongue pressed in, and Zhongli’s teeth closed around Ajax’s lips, and there was nothing soft about what followed.
Being filled with Zhongli left little room for anything but desire. Ajax moaned, clutched at Zhongli, and sucked Zhongli’s tongue, swallowing pulses of Geo magic that reverberated in his chest and pricked his nipples and sent ripples across his own Vision. It stirred him, set him leaking even more furiously, especially with the way Zhongli’s cock had reshaped itself to point directly at the most sensitive parts of his hole, massaging him more with every squirm of his body.
“Daddy,” Ajax tried to say, but his mouth was covered by Zhongli’s. He wanted to come. He had to come to relieve the pressure building up inside of him. He couldn’t, not until Zhongli told him, not unless he wanted to be punished. And, right now, he didn’t want to be punished. He wanted to be Zhongli’s good girl, the best he could possibly be, and reap every reward he deserved for giving his Daddy so much pleasure.
Zhongli must have felt something in him, or heard meaning in his moans, because his lips backed off just enough to command Ajax, “Come.”
Ajax came.
The release flooded him, rushing through his body like a dam breaking, everything that had been built up coursing towards his cock and through his Vision and colliding in a rush of power and pleasure that sent Ajax reeling backwards, held steady only by Zhongli’s strong hands.
Fluid streamed between them. It had to be come; it smelled like come and felt like come and it was spraying from his cock like come. Ajax gasped at it, the sweet high of permission almost overwhelmed by awe at how much liquid was coming from his body. It felt impossible that the myriad stripes of sticky whiteness shooting through the drenched dress and covering Zhongli’s chest could have all come from him.
And yet, his cock pulsed in time with the fluid, and his balls were tight, and he felt drained from the efforts of his core.
Zhongli smiled at him, looking completely unsurprised. “Good girl,” he said softly, and Ajax cried out as his cock twitched one more time, managing to spray a little more liquid onto Zhongli’s stomach. “As befits the most powerful Water Vision user of this generation.”
Ajax flushed with the praise, trying to squirm away from it, and then groaned. His body had finally caught up with events, and was informing him that his ass hurt. So did his cock. And possibly everything else in that general region felt overused and wrung out too.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” Zhongli said. He stroked Ajax fondly, hand damp and sticky with Ajax’s plentiful juices. “Then I’ll feed you dessert. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Ajax nodded. He didn’t have the energy for anything else. He let Zhongli pull him off his cock, let Zhongli maneuver him onto a nice blanket-covered couch, and drifted into hazy bliss as Zhongli’s skilled fingers slowly undressed him. The kisses along his garters were especially lovely, he thought, as was the gentleness with which Zhongli ran a damp cloth across his ass to coax out the fluids Zhongli had left behind.
By the time Zhongli had dressed Ajax again—this time in soft robes that matched Zhongli’s—Childe had regained enough of his mind to say, “I’m going to be feel that for the next week.”
He was still curled up on the couch, but now he was leaning against Zhongli and the remaining spread of fruit and sweets was arrayed on a low table in front of them. Childe thought about sitting up, but then decided that would take too much effort, especially since it’d involve putting more weight on his thoroughly-used ass.
Zhongli paused in unwrapping a small square of chocolate to turn and kiss Childe’s forehead. “That was the goal,” he said lightly. “I’d be disappointed otherwise.”
Childe nuzzled Zhongli’s shoulder. The movement brushed his earrings against his cheeks, a reminder of all that had passed between them, as well as emotions Childe didn’t want to dwell on. He distracted himself by asking, instead, “What do you think of this place?”
“They have wonderfully accommodating staff.” Zhongli held the chocolate in front of Childe’s mouth; an offering, and a chance for Childe to decide how slowly he wanted to come back from Ajax’s mentality. “Good food, and a lovely room, too.”
Childe leaned forward, not wanting to expend the effort to raise his hands when Zhongli was willing to be so obliging. Zhongli’s fingers stayed steady, even when Childe dragged his teeth over them in passing, and Zhongli stroked Childe’s hair fondly as he settled back down. The chocolate dissolved on his tongue, rich and not-quite-bitter; a poor substitute for Zhongli’s own taste, but an adequate substitute. After a moment, when the chocolate melted enough to swallow, Childe spoke again. “Shall we add it to our rotation, then?”
“Yes,” Zhongli said, looking extremely pleased with himself. “I think we should.”