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cavalierious-whim · 3 months

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Silk Seduction (ZhongChi)

Part of 'Etched in Stone'.

Childe wears a very obvious set of panties whilst sparring in Jueyun Karst.

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At first, Zhongli thinks that he may have seen something… incorrectly. Childe laughs as he stretches, leaning over just so. Then he stretches the opposite direction, arms over his head as his back cracks, that damnable cropped top rising to show of sharply cut hip bones and—

Zhongli tilts his head. His eyes do, in fact, work perfectly. Pink, frilled lace peeks out from the waistband, just barely seen—but Zhongli latches on to the sight with his ancient, keen eyes. And Childe knows he would, that he does, judging by the smirk he shoots Zhongli’s way when he catches him staring.

Childe traces his lips with his tongue, his mouth curling at the edges. An eyebrow waggle is tossed in Zhongli’s direction. The drag of Childe’s hands down his sides until they reach his trousers. He pulls at that waistband, yanking at it slightly until it eases just so, and another half-inch of that soft silk is revealed.

Zhongli didn’t know that his throat could dry up in such a way, or that his cock could flare to life so easily. He twists, covertly shoving a hand into his lap to keep from—

“Zhongli,” says Madame Ping, breaking into his thoughts. And that tone…

He sighs, looking at her. Madame Ping stares back with a knowing glance but she has the decency to not drop her gaze. “He’s an… impetuous thing, no?” she asks instead, sipping at the tea they share.

“I shouldn’t have brought him here,” murmurs Zhongli. “All his bothering me for a good training session, and I shouldn’t have given in—”

“Oh, let the boy toss around a spear with Xiao. Perhaps he’ll be humbled.”

Zhongli hides a grin behind his palm as he lifts a cup to his lips.

“You, however,” she continues, her words trailing off as she wiggles her eyebrows in a surprisingly good imitation of Childe.

“Ping,” admonishes Zhongli.

“No one would miss the two of you if you just…” She waves off to a darkened corner of Jueyun Karst.

“Streetward Rambler.” Despite the way his tone sharpens, though, Madame Ping still laughs, unable to be tempered by Zhongli’s ire.

Madame Ping is, as with most things, absolutely correct. When Zhongli whisks Childe away to a quiet and secretive corner of Jueyun Karst, no one bats an eye.

“Wait, Zhongli—”

“A menace,” says Zhongli as he boxes Childe against the smooth stone of an outcropping. “Ajax, you are a menace.”

Childe’s mouth curves dangerously, and oh, how Zhongli wants to wipe that smirk right off of his face. “Have I succeeded, then? Are you all hot and bothered?”

“Ajax—”

“I know that you saw them. I know that you stared, unable to look away.” Childe’s expression is smug and haughty. “I know that you liked silk, but who knew you were so perverted?”

“And who is the one who wore such a thing, hm?” Zhongli loves this, having Childe pulled close and wanton against him. The provocation is mild but it makes the dragon in his chest sing in ways he long since thought he put to rest. Zhongli kisses his ear, his jaw, the length of his neck, nibbling at Childe’s skin until a mark blooms, and he kisses that next, softer, lingering.

“Have I annoyed you?”

“No,” murmurs Zhongli. Childe tastes like sweat and training. “But I am bothered, as you so astutely pointed out.”

He can imagine the way Childe smiles in triumph. “What are you going to do about it?” he goads. Zhongli pulls back and shoots Childe a devilish look that wipes that smirk right off of his face. “Um, wait—”

Zhongli drops to his knees, uncaring of the soil that will muck up his fancy clothing. He leans forward to nuzzle the taut muscle of Childe’s stomach, dragging his teeth across it, delighting in how it ripples in response. His fingers tug at the fastenings, pulling Childe’s trousers open enough to yank them down.

The pink silk is barely a slip of a thing, tight to his hips, frilled at the edges. The bulge of his cock and balls are barely hidden, the fabric pulled flush over them. Zhongli trails his thumb across the leg hole, teasing skin, and Childe’s head falls back against the stone.

Zhongli kisses his balls, tongue teasing the hem of the panties. He thumbs at the thin ties at Childe’s hip bones, pulling at them. “Where did you find these?”

“I—that isn’t important—oh, you’re—” Childe’s cock twitches when Zhongli nips at the tip, suckling at it over the soft silk. “I’d rather you suck my actual dick, please.”

“I’ll do as I wish.” Zhongli is muffled by his skin, by the panties, by how he latches on to every inch of Childe’s groin to mark it up. The smell of sweat and arousal fuels him; the knowledge that Childe donned these fancy little things to tease and entice him—Zhongli moans as he nuzzles Childe’s cock next with a soft sigh.

“Okay, but I’m dying here—”

“The same way that I was dying out there? Ajax, I was with Madame Ping.”

“That old goat found it funny.” Because of course, Childe knows. “Did she tease you about it?”

Zhongli smiles. “She may have had a few choice words, which is why it is time to tease you back.” Zhongli doesn’t remove the panties, he just pulls them down enough to free Childe’s cock. The rest of the silk snaps back against him and Childe hisses at the impact.

Childe moans when Zhongli wraps his fingers around his length and gives it a quick stroke. Then he curses when Zhongli sweeps his tongue over the tip, tasting the precome that dribbles from the slit. “That’s—you’re—”

Zhongli takes his time much to Childe’s frustration. He bucks his hips and Zhongli pulls back, laughing as he licks from the tip to the base instead. “Patience,” he mutters, suckling at the base, and then Childe’s balls cradled by the silk.

Childe grunts loudly but otherwise, says nothing else. Good. Zhongli inhales deeply, humming as he presses kissing to every inch of skin currently revealed.

“Zhongli, please—”

“Any louder and the others will hear.” Childe’s mouth snaps shut as if commanded. “Good boy,” praises Zhongli, suckling at the head of his cock. Then, finally, he swallows Childe’s length, taking it deep into his throat.

Childe’s hands fly to his head for a yank. “Fuck,” he hisses—albeit quieter this time. “Fuck, fuck—”

Zhongli hums around him and sucks, hallowing his cheeks in a way that makes Childe whimper. He moves, sliding up and down on his cock, bobbing his head, delighting in the heft of Childe’s length on his tongue. Zhongli swallows again, moaning. Breathes through his nose as he sinks all the way down, lips meeting Childe’s groin. Full—his throat is full of Childe’s cock, and Zhongli knows that he must look utterly sinful with his lips stretched so wide.

He looks up through long lashes to find Childe staring down at him. “Gods, you look—”

Zhongli pulls off and clicks his tongue. “I’ve brought you to Jueyun Karst, Ajax. I am the god here, am I not? You wore—” He pulls at the string tied around Childe’s waist, fingertip hooking underneath it. “—this to tease me. You’ve driven me into a heated frenzy, you should at least have the manners to call out my name.”

“Zhongli,” says Childe, cradling the back of his neck. “Can I—”

“You would ask for more, wouldn’t you? Would you like to know what Madame Ping said about you?”

“With my dick near your mouth? No.”

“She called you an impetuous boy—which you are. Would you like to fuck my mouth?”

Zhongli watches Childe’s throat bob. “Yes. Yes—”

He takes pity on Childe, sealing his mouth around his cock again. The slide is wet. He tastes of sweat, of salt, of something intimately Childe, and Zhongli takes a lot of pleasure in knowing that he is the only one who sees him like this, so lost and wanton.

Childe bucks his hips, forcing his cock deeper. Zhongli encourages it, widening his mouth, swallowing him deeper as he sucks around him. He fingers at the damned panties, tugging at them until they pull at Childe’s skin.

“I’m—” Childe whines, head tilted back, eyes closed and biting at his lips. “I’m going to—Zhongli.”

Oh, he’ll die a happy man, hearing that sound. Zhongli slides up and down his cock with the intent to drag Childe to the end. His fingers curl around silk, fisting it. His other hand rises to squeeze at Childe’s balls, rolling them across his palm, and Childe just fucks his mouth with heavy, hard thrusts as he tries to avoid coming too quickly.

Zhongli moans, encouraging him, drawing his cock so deep that the tip of his cock bullies his throat. His scalp stings with how tightly Childe pulls at it, the burn a refreshing distraction from the way Zhongli’s length is hard and aching in his trousers. Not here—he won’t; he’ll handle himself later when he fucks Childe into the mattress. The here and now isn’t about him, but a fancy slip of silk, and the way that his mate falls apart on his tongue.

A few more ruts into his mouth and Childe comes, holding Zhongli’s face there, forcing him to swallow it down—and he does, groaning at the taste of brine, at the heat of Childe’s spend on his tongue.

Childe groans when Zhongli pulls off. “That was—”

“Something that you brought upon yourself.” Zhongli kisses the tip of his spent cock, still playing with the silk panties. “Frills? Not lace?”

“Would you rather lace?” asks Childe, his expression strangely curious. “Also, what about you—”

“I took exactly what I wanted.” Zhongli then pauses, reconsidering. “Actually,” he continues with a smirk—which Childe clearly finds suspicious. Zhongli yanks the ties of the panties open, pulling them free. He balls the silk up in his hand, leaving Childe without his underthings.

“Wait—”

“I would like to keep these, I think,” says Zhongli, shoving them into his pocket.

“In your jacket? Zhongli—”

“Wasn’t this your intent?” muses Zhongli. “To drive me mad with want? Well, you have, Ajax. I’ll wear these close to my chest and think of what we just did here, in the shadows all day long. I’ll squirm there as I share tea with Madame Ping. There is no doubt the others will know; they’ll smell it on me, our shard arousal—”

“I did not ask for that—”

“You will reap the benefits of what you sowed.” Zhongli stands, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. He dusts the dirt from his knees, even though it’s painfully obvious that he’s been kneeling. “Might I, at least, get a kiss for my efforts?”

“You don’t need to ask, you old lizard.”

Zhongli kisses him, short and sweet, fingers curled into Childe’s sleeve.

“Seriously, though,” starts Childe when they part for a breath, “you’re going to leave me naked?”

“Of course not.” Zhongli pulls Childe’s trousers up and makes quick work of the fastenings. “Consider this a reward,” he teases.

“More like a punishment,” grouses Childe, but then he sees Zhongli’s cool expression and amends with, “which I’m known to like from time to time.”

Zhongli hums, adjusting Childe’s collar. “You punished me and so—”

“You loved it.”

“Yes,” agrees Zhongli. “And I love you, even if you are a rascal more often than not.” He kisses Childe again just to taste him.

“Rude,” replies Childe. But he smiles nonetheless, woefully gone. “Silk,” he says then. “Panties. Your tastes are noted. I won’t make it a habit, I promise.”

They take a few more minutes to right themselves, and when they step back into the heart of Jueyun Karst, it’s with their fingers hooked together, and soft, tittering laughter as if keeping secrets.

Madame Ping, politely, says nothing as Childe drops beside her for tea. Cloud Retainer, however, is a different breed of person, and Zhongli accepts her verbose disapproval with an eyebrow wiggle of his own.

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