Etched In Stone

Lingulate

Childe learns that Zhongli has a dragon tongue.

CW: Smut

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Childe only means to tease him.

It's a rare opportunity. Childe doesn't typically like to wear the Foul Legacy around Zhongli because he'll worry, shooting him a warning glance with his brow furrowed. "Don't overdo it," he always says, tsking softly as Childe tries to show off.

Childe slips out his thick tongue, flicking it seductively. "Say, Zhongli, do you want to... you know?" His tongue curls about suggestively.

Zhongli's brow raises, surprised. Typical expression from him. Childe doesn't expect him to reciprocate. Zhongli presses his fingers into a crude circle, slipping out his own tongue to settle in the middle. It is not the tongue that Childe recognizes and is well acquainted with; this one is long and thin, forked at the tip.

Childe is absolutely shameful in how he chokes, the Foul Legacy falling away like he's shed a second skin. "Wait," he says, crossing the space. Zhongli's tongue is gone, pulled back into his mouth as though it was never there. "Wait, what was that?"

Zhongli's mouth curls into a secretive grin as he crosses his arms across his chest. "Hm?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Childe tugs at his mouth, trying to pry it open, but it's like trying to move an unyielding stone. "Zhongli, open up."

Zhongli does, wrapping his lips around Childe's thumb. He sucks on it, tongue swirling around the knuckle. Pleasure rises in Childe's gut and it takes everything to dampen it. Not the right moment for this, not the right—

He pulls his thumb out, left with his cheeks flushed red, and his heart pounding.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," says Zhongli, his voice dark and smooth. Dangerous, even. Particularly with the way that he watches Childe back through a narrowly-slit gaze and smug grin.

Oh, thinks Childe. Fuck.

#

When Zhongli teases, it's quiet and underhanded. Like the subtle slip of a draconic tongue that Childe knew nothing about.

And really, he should've. It makes sense. Zhongli isn't remotely human, former Archon or not—even now, he's still an adeptus, a god, a dragon. The lizard tongue should have been a given.

He knows how to use it. Childe lays in their bed, melting into the sheets, back arching as he fucks into Zhongli's mouth. His fingers yank at Zhongli's hair, pulling it tightly until his scalp must burn. Zhongli grunts softly but doesn't stop, taking his cock right into his throat, nose buried against the coarse hair of Childe's groin. He hums around Childe's dick, his tongue sliding across the underside across the entire length, undulating against his heated skin.

"Oh, gods," says Childe, his voice pinched. "Oh, that's—that's—" His words cut off in a moan when Zhongli pulls off, curling his tongue around his length from the root to the tip. It's a strange sensation. His tongue is wet and rough, thick with an odd, inhuman texture.

Zhongli laps at him dutifully, tucking his hair behind an ear. His face is flushed red, an absolute vision with the way that his mouth is stretched wide around Childe's cock. Zhongli takes him between his lips again, slurping at his length, jerking the rest with his fingers.

No gloves this time, only blackened knuckles, the color of a deep night sprinkled with bits of golden Geo. Childe didn't know this was something that would get him off so readily, but he's all for it. Ten-ten would do this again, losing himself to the tight heat of Zhongli's mouth, and that ridiculous, devilish tongue.