Etched In Stone

Delightful, Endearing, Utterly Swooned

Zhongli makes use of his morning by indulging in Childe.

CW: Smut

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Childe dozes in the late morning, having stubbornly slept in.

The silk sheets are warm and they smell like Zhongli, sage, sandalwood, and rich, earthen dirt thick in his nose. He sighs, turning into the pillow slightly, sinking into its softness as he just melts into a restful haze.

Distantly, Childe is aware of a touch, fingers dragging along the length of his leg, soft-handed and reverent. Circles rubbed into his ankles, his aching knees, and the meat of his thighs. There is a gentle tug that pries his legs apart, and Childe responds instinctually, sighing softly.

Bliss, he dreams. Childe wonders what he did to deserve such treatment, such pious attention, but he relishes it, even in his sleepy daze.

Nails drag across the softness of his inner thighs, raising gooseflesh. A hand splays wide across his groin, pressing there lightly, and Childe dreams of how Zhongli does this when they make love. Zhongli's cock, thick and heavy in his ass. A hand, holding Childe steady against the bed, curling against his skin, the solid weight of unbreakable stone that sinks into his gut in the best sort of way. Pleasure in of its own.

Childe's breath hitches. He can't help it, even as slumber still tugs at him. There is a soothing voice, low in timbre. Warm breath against the crease of his thigh as a kiss is pressed there. Those devilish fingers drag through the hair there at the base of Childe's half-hard cock.

What a wonderful dream. A magnificent way to spend the morning in their bed, gooey and relaxed, remembering the night before. Zhongli held him close and whispered dirty, dirty things into Childe's ears as he marked him passionately, over and over,

Childe is truly spoiled. Over-indulged until he's filled to the brim. He goes to sleep carrying the weight of Zhongli's love deep inside.

There are more words, curling, affectionate things punctuated by one kiss to one thigh, and the other. And then, searing hot warmth wraps itself around his dick, suckling at the head and—

Childe's eyes snap awake and he groans, trying not to immediately buck against whatever it is. He looks down and sees Zhongli latched onto his cock. Zhongli watches back with a half-lidded gaze of pleasure, and Childe flushes. Nearly dies at the sight.

There isn't a more perfect way to wake up, except for maybe Zhongli already buried deep inside him. Childe moans at the mere thought. "Zhongli."

Zhongli hums around him, before pulling off. He laps at the tip and lets spit collect in his mouth to spread around with long and dexterous fingers, coating the rest of Childe's length. "I thought that I would enjoy you," he says simply, tonguing underneath the head. "If you are amenable, of course."

Childe is more than amenable. Childe was amenable ages ago when he still pined for Zhongli like a pathetic idiot. He doesn't say this, of course. He barely finds any words, just noises, a garbled sort of moan that leaves his brain scrambled. It's too easy to lose himself entirely to the heat of Zhongli's mouth.

"Please," he finally manages, fingers dipping down to curl into Zhongli's hair. Childe brushes his bangs back, sees the pink tinge on Zhongli's cheeks and nearly combusts. It won't take long—not that it ever does. "Fuck, look at you," he murmurs.

It is usually Zhongli who says things like this, who whispers fervent praise in the cloak of their bedsheets. It is usually Childe who is between those powerful thighs, worshiping him as a god should be worshiped. Wholly, fully, and undeniably sincere, knees sore from the floor and his throat fucked raw.