Etched In Stone

Pants Down, Dicks Out, No Regrets

Having finally fucked for the first time, Zhongli and Childe can't keep their hands off each other. Too bad they get constantly interrupted.

CW: Smut

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Zhongli cannot keep his hands off of him.

Childe is not complaining. Childe is also no different, fully embracing what Katya has affectionally dubbed the 'honeymoon period'. She knew the moment she saw him post impromptu vacation in Zhongli's teapot; post confession, and spending days in Zhongli's sheets, tracing scars and mapping every inch of each other's bodies. Making love with Zhongli has pulled Childe apart and forged him into a new man.

And therein lies the problem—they can't keep their hands off of each other.

Zhongli has always been level-headed and the voice of reason. Except for now. Or yesterday. And no doubt tomorrow.

"Hey, wait—" Childe's protest melts into a moan as Zhongli reaches down and squeezes his half-hard cock.

Impossible. Zhongli is so impossible when he's like this because Childe is unable to say no. He's needy and desperate for his touch, legs spreading instantly to make room for his hand.

"Darling," laughs Zhongli against his ear, warm breath puffing against it. His tongue dips out to trace the shell, and Childe relaxes against the rough stone wall that he's currently boxed against.

They came for takeout. Xiangling is typically speedy but backed up on orders, so they are tucked away around the corner. Zhongli pounced the moment they found themselves relatively out of sight in the cover of the alleyway.

"We—can't." They're in public. Semi-public. Does the side alley count as such? No one is looking or likely to turn in this direction which is the reason Zhongli is so bold.

Zhongli traces the bulge of Childe's cock through his trousers from base to tip. "A tease," says Zhongli, nipping at his jaw with those wicked fangs, dragging them over his oversensitive flesh.

Childe would let Zhongli fuck him right there. He will. "I need you," he hisses.

"Say no more," cuts in Zhongli, his fingers tracing the waistband of his clothing.

Just as the button is undone and Childe feels the heat of Zhongli's fingertips scraping through his pubic hair, Xiangling careens around the corner with several garbage bags in hand. She pauses. Her gaze drops to where Zhongli's hand is down Childe's trousers. He makes no attempt to move it.

Xiangling's expression turns sharp. "Oh," she says with a grin. "Well, would you look at that? Did the two of you finally shack up together? Normally I'd say I didn't see anything but I do believe this means Lumine owes me some Mora." She drops the trash by the waste bin in the alley before turning on her heel and making herself scarce.

Childe is mortified. "Stop—stop!" he hisses as Zhongli bursts into laughter, still intent on marking up his neck. Childe yanks at his hair and Zhongli finally relents.

"Apologies," he says, pressing one last kiss to his throat. He is not remotely sorry. Childe knows he now sports several bruises, claims that are as clear as day. Zhongli brushes his knuckles against his flagging cock before pulling his hand from Childe's trousers.

He's sweet enough to refasten them. Childe pinches the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. "A bet? Zhongli, they made a bet?"

"As others often do." He tips Childe's face toward his by the chin. His golden eyes are filled with mirth as he tips forward for a proper kiss against his mouth. "Our food is likely ready by now."