Childe's First Time

The waxing crescent hangs low over Liyue. The streets are illuminated by fire lanterns, casting a soft glow on the stone path. Zhongli and Childe stand outside the entrance of Liuli Pavilion, their stomachs and hearts warm with the wholesome food and enriching conversation. They’ve been doing this for weeks now, long enough to know that this is where they part ways. Tomorrow will bring another sun, and they will begin another day, bound by their respective duties and contracts. But at this moment, as they gaze at each other, with the cool night breeze running her fingers through their hair, they can pretend that this is eternity. A capsule of eternity in their hands, a spell broken only when one of them reaches forward to kiss the other goodnight. 

Yet tonight, Childe doesn’t want to let Zhongli go. Maybe it’s an effect of the way his eyes shone as he spoke about the ingredients and history of the Slow Cooked Bamboo Shoot Soup they ordered tonight. Or maybe it is the sleek black-and-gold coat he’s wearing that makes him look more formidable (and sexy), sending a thrill through Childe’s bones. Or perhaps it is just the irresistibility of the man himself that had given him an erection under the table, which subsided only when Zhongli turned away to make small talk with an acquaintance who’d just arrived. Whatever the cause, tonight Childe has decided he wants more. So when Zhongli murmurs a goodnight against his lips, he kisses him deeper instead of letting go. 

Surprise is evident on Zhongli’s features as Childe’s hands grip the back of his head, his tongue exploring the other’s mouth. After a moment’s hesitation, Zhongli kisses back, body pliant under Childe’s touch. Their tongues swirling, they taste on each other the distinct flavours of meat and ham, a testament to the delicious dinner they shared. Then Childe pulls back, breathless. 

“Sorry—y-you’re so gorgeous today, xiansheng. I just couldn’t resist. I said it before, but this coat really brings out the colour of your eyes.” 

Zhongli brightens. “I could say the same, Childe. You look so ravishing, I could devour you right here. Do you propose we take this somewhere else?” he asks, his voice husky. Childe cannot say yes fast enough.

They stumble through the streets with roving hands and dashing tongues, nary a care being given to the passers-by. Childe is aware that he and Zhongli have to be something more than friends but not quite lovers, having never considered any labels to determine their relationship. Yet now he dully wonders how an outsider might view them, what with their regular “business dinners” that have continued long after said business was over, the lingering looks and touches, the gifts they exchange (using Childe's mora), their casual goodnight kisses—no, he wouldn't consider his galloping heart a reaction to just a friend. 

Childe remembers how it began: it was at Xinyan’s concert. Zhongli had been dying to go for weeks; he’d talked Childe’s ear off about how divine her songs were, how progressive it was of her to introduce rock-and-roll to Liyue. He’d never seen a man as giddy as he was in the concert, screaming along the lyrics and pumping his fists to the beat. Childe had sung all the wrong words and Zhongli had laughed and kissed him on his forehead, eyes shining. It was surprising to see the reserved man so uninhibited, and Childe had blushed all the way home. The next day, Childe brushed his lips against Zhongli’s knuckles on the wharf, and over the weeks, it has slowly become their “thing”.

However, he wonders what Zhongli makes of it, if the kisses mean anything more to him. If he fumbles with his paperwork, occupied with thoughts of Childe. Childe has never really considered labels, because considering would mean giving a serious thought, and gods help him if he can think of Zhongli without being reduced to an incoherent blushing mess, let alone think seriously.

After climbing a long winding staircase, they finally arrive at Zhongli’s apartment, and the front door opens to reveal—an immaculate living space! It baffles Childe to think that Zhongli still would clean up without expecting any guests, but that is somehow a very Zhongli thing to do. Everything is in perfect order, just the way Childe remembers from his last visit: the books are arranged alphabetically on the red cedar bookshelves, the record player gleams from its stand, the potted plants are thriving on the balcony, and various artifacts are peppered throughout the house, each carrying with it a snippet of Liyue’s history. 

They hang their coats on the coat rack, and Zhongli steps a foot toward the kitchen. “Childe, would you like me to brew you some qingxin flower tea? I picked the flowers myself while returning from Mt Aocang this afternoon. The tea aids in digestion and has a sedative effect, much needed after tonight’s activities.” Childe answers in the affirmative, and the ex-archon disappears into the kitchen. Now, alone and seated in one of Zhongli’s lavish velvet sofas, it hits Childe with full force the reason he’s in Zhongli’s apartment on a Thursday night. 

They’re going to have sex. They’re actually going to do it. It is embarrassing to admit that he, "Childe" Tartaglia, Number Eleven of the Fatui Harbingers, has never taken anyone to bed. For all his martial prowess, his experience in the bedroom is pretty much limited to pleasuring himself. He bets Zhongli’s done this many times before, what with having lived 6000 years and all. He wonders if he can make Zhongli feel good, if he can hold a candle to those past lovers. If he is enough. His stomach feels like soggy cereal at the thought.

Zhongli emerges from the kitchen with two steaming cups of qingxin flower tea, setting them on the table and taking a seat across from Childe. They drink the tea in silence. 

“What’s wrong? Is it not to your liking?” Zhongli asks upon seeing Childe frowning. 

“No no, the tea’s great. It’s just—how do I say this, xiansheng, I’ve never been with anyone before,” he says, ears tipped pink. 

Zhongli’s eyes widen. “H-hey, but I’m a fast learner, okay? You bet I could be an expert in no time. A sexpert, one would say~” Internally, Childe is cringing. He is a fleshy mollusc who’s retreated to the farthest edge of his shell. He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, that lightning would strike him down, that flames would consume him— 

He hears Zhongli laugh, and the richness of the sound pours into every pore of Childe’s being. “Childe, my precious,” Zhongli says, wheezing, “The point of sex is to enjoy ourselves. To have fun. To further our relationship. You do not have to be a so-called ‘sexpert’” Zhongli snorts, “to partake in those pleasures. This isn’t some performance you have to master, and I truly don’t believe that you need to be ‘skilled’ or ‘experienced’ to make our time together worthwhile, because when I want to sleep with you, I want you, Childe, the man who I’ve been spending my time with, in all these weeks. I want to know your body intimately, to appreciate your beauty and charms, to get to know you better. Of course, I would appreciate it if you were” he makes air quotes, “‘good in bed’, but the last thing we want is for you to feel pressured to perform well and have no fun at all. Tonight is about you. Just do what feels right to you, what makes you feel good.”

Childe nods his head in gratitude, for Zhongli’s words are indeed very reassuring, but all this talking's making him restless. Well, didn’t Zhongli just say he wanted to know his body intimately? Then he of all people should know that there are better ways to explore one’s body, than… well, standing there. 

So Childe takes Zhongli by the shoulders and slams him back against the wall. His mouth falls open, and Childe takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside. Zhongli’s face is flush against his, hair glowing gold at the tips. His hands are around Childe’s waist, and Childe realises he wants to feel them all over his body, without their clothes in between. Their tongues circle each other, dancing like lovers. Their noses are close enough to touch, each of them breathing the other’s air. Zhongli squeezes Childe’s ass from behind, causing him to groan against his lips. His fingers trace the scars on Childe’s chest, each carrying a story of its own, and then his palm comes to rest over Childe’s heart, savouring its rhythm. 

Childe caresses Zhongli’s cheek, mesmerised (not for the first time) by his red eyeliner. His hand cups the side of his face, dragging his teeth over Zhongli’s jawline. He won’t tell anyone, but he’s dreamed of doing this ever since their first dinner when he’d zoned out of whatever Zhongli was saying in that hot voice of his. Ugh, the man. How is he not aware of how gorgeous he is, of the effect he has on him? His body is a work of exquisite craftsmanship, delicate features carved intricately into resolute stone befitting the Geo Archon. 

Zhongli shudders, eyes glazed out. He pushes Childe off, dragging him by the shirt to his bedroom. “Strip,” he orders, unbuttoning his own shirt. Childe follows his hands, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tosses his crimson button-down to the floor. Zhongli’s tongue licks a stripe along his throat, holding his wrists together as he shoves him to bed, climbing on top of him. His kisses are fervent, demanding, as his hot breath fans Childe’s neck. He slides his tongue down the conch of his ear, nipping at the earlobe. 

“Just lean into the feeling, darling. I’m going to make you feel so good,” he says in a low voice and sucks the skin of his neck, hard enough to bruise, relishing in the moans that come out of Childe’s mouth. Zhongli moves his lips downwards and exhales over Childe’s nipples, pleased as they pebble. He licks his cleavage, fingers wandering over his torso, tracing the scars that run from everywhere to everywhere. 

Childe, on the other hand, has never seen this side of Zhongli before. The graceful and dignified funeral parlour consultant is replaced by this feverish, hungry man whose sole motive is to pleasure him. The cor lapis of Zhongli’s eyes has darkened to deep rust, and Childe sees in his devouring gaze Morax, the killer of gods. A shiver goes through him as he pictures the ex-archon in combat, wondering what it’d feel like to be manhandled by him. To be ruined by the Geo Archon himself, the thought alone makes his cock twitch. 

His bare legs brush against Zhongli’s as the latter nibbles at the skin above the belly button, circling his pinkie around it and sticking it inside.

“Ah!” Childe cries out, shivering. “That—I’m sensitive there!”

Zhongli smirks and continues, teasing eyes flashing up to his. He brings his knee between his legs, kneading the bulge in Childe’s boxers, causing him to moan. His silky brown strands, freed from their hair tie, fan around his face, framing his smug expression. He looks so pretty like that, so in his element, it’s unbelievable. Chest heaving, he reaches forward to pinch Childe’s nipples. Childe’s body quivers, and he knows he’s going to—

“Zhongli, I’m gonna come!” 

He responds by closing his mouth around a nipple, sucking hard. And when Childe cums, it is unlike anything he’s ever achieved in his nighttime ministrations. His mind is a white-hot flash, the front of his boxers rapidly darkening. His breath comes out in ragged gasps. He opens his eyes to see Zhongli smiling, eyes soft with adoration, as he swiftly removes his boxers with his fucking teeth, eagerly lapping up his spend.

“You’re exquisite, baobei, you did a wonderful job,” Zhongli smiles, strings of cum and drool around his mouth, and it’s an image seared into Childe’s mind forever. Zhongli reverently kisses the tip of his length, sending a delicious shiver down the Harbinger’s spine. His hands run up and down his length as he licks the top of his tip, then flicks the frenulum. He runs his tongue along his length in leisurely broad strokes, showering attention on his shaft, then his balls.

Zhongli’s warm mouth envelops Childe’s hard member as he slowly takes in all of him, nose grazing the light hair at the base of Childe’s cock. He bobs his throat slowly on his cock, beautiful eyes hooded with pleasure. Zhongli’s throat contracts wonderfully around his dick, cheeks pulled inwards. Childe trembles and whimpers, hands pulling at Zhongli’s silken soft hair. Zhongli's nails dig into his hips. The little grunts that Zhongli makes, his absolutely debauched pink face, his mouth that sucks like it was made to suck cock, the slick slapping of his face on his dick, all of it has Childe’s length hardening again.

Zhongli takes his face off his cock, pretty lips as pink and glistening as Childe’s erection as he gasps for breath. Childe sits up and pulls him for another kiss, lips trailing down his collarbone. His hands run along Zhongli’s bare shoulders, feeling the sinew of his arms. He can imagine it, those mighty arms raining down stone lances to subdue Osial, that which is known today as the Guyun Stone Forest. Those powerful arms, which could subdue him right now. He wants to be owned by Zhongli, to be controlled by him, to be dominated. He wants more.

Childe reaches for Zhongli’s belt buckle, undoing it to pull down his trousers and underwear. His eyes widen upon seeing Zhongli’s length, providing no small satisfaction to the ex-archon. He is already hard, leaking precum. Childe strokes his hand along the length, pumping the shaft like his own, experimenting with varied strokes to see what feels good. Zhongli whines and says something, too low for Childe to hear. 

“Hmm, xiansheng?” 

“On your back, Childe,” Zhongli grunts, eyes glazed out. Zhongli wants to be closer. He wants to be Childe’s intercostal muscles, his intervertebral discs, his interstitial fluid. Any definition of close isn’t close enough for him. He needs Childe. He needs to be inside him.

Childe obeys, burying his face in one of Zhongli’s fine pillows; feeling the other man’s weight lift up from the bed. He takes a deep whiff, inhaling the scent of fabric conditioner and Zhongli’s signature glaze lilies. Zhongli then returns with a bottle of lube and square foils, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He runs his hands over Childe’s bottom, feeling the smooth skin of his ass and lightly squeezing, earning a gasp from Childe. Then his fingers dip into the asscrack.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Zhongli asks with a furrowed brow.

“Never been more sure,” Childe replies grinning toward the headboard, showing a thumbs-up.

Zhongli chuckles and squeezes some lube onto his hand, dumping liberal amounts on his ass. Childe giggles. 

“What happened?” Zhongli asks. 

“It's cold!” 

Zhongli laughs, fingers running in slow circles on his taint. “Well, it’s a slime-based lube with mint extracts. I bought a cold one to prevent body overheating. The tingling sensation that it provides is quite pleasurable to the skin, which I hope will enhance your experience. There are many types of lubes that Ying’er sells, but her slime-based ones are the best. The oily ones stain the bedsheets and are hard to remove, while—”

“Oh, would you stop talking?” Childe hisses, gasping with pleasure.

“You like that?” Zhongli teases, tickling the muscles around the perineum, and with a yelped-out “Y-Yes” Childe almost thrashes, bucking wildly.

Zhongli massages the clenched rim to relax it, dropping a finger into his hole. He thrusts with his finger, working him open. And then slowly slips another, making the ginger moan. 

Zhongli stops. “Did that hurt?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.

Childe has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. This ridiculously considerate man, ugh. “C’mon, just ‘cause I’ve never fucked anyone doesn’t mean I’ve never played with myself.”

“Oh?” he says, an eyebrow raised, “Do indulge me by telling me how you played with yourself, wouldn’t you?” he dares, inserting another finger inside.

Childe blushes at the thought of recounting his exploits with a dildo to Zhongli, but he isn’t one to back down from a challenge. “I will,” he says as cockily as he can when he’s losing it inside.

“Go ahead,” taunts Zhongli, thrusting his three fingers inside, causing Childe to moan into the pillow.

“Um,” he says, “So I have a dildo alright? Sometimes I fuck myself with it when I’m horny.”

“Childe! I must look at you while we’re having this conversation.” His fingers pull out and he turns him so they’re face to face. He re-inserts his fingers and smirks. “Please, continue.”

Childe’s face is flaming. He’s enjoying this, isn’t he? Well, two can play at the game. “Hmm. So, you wanna know about my first time with one? I told you I discovered I was gay early on, right? This friend was telling me all about prostate orgasms.” Zhongli hums, fingers languidly pushing in and out. “Only, I didn’t know what a prostate was and was too embarrassed to ask. Once, when I was at his place, we were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, and he went out, so I looked around the room when my eyes fell on a suspicious box with lewd pictures. Naturally, I picked it up and saw…a dildo!”

Zhongli is very immersed in Childe’s story, massaging his walls with a steady rhythm. “I don’t know why I did it. It was so stupid. But he was taking a long time, there was a bottle of lube next to it and everything looked pretty clean, so I thought ‘why not’, and stretched myself open. It felt pretty awesome, the best orgasm I’d ever had. Hands-free, too. I got pretty addicted to the feeling and got my own. There, that’s all.”

There’s just something about the thought of Childe fucking himself on a silicone toy till he comes that Zhongli finds incredibly arousing, and he knows he has to do it now. He pulls his fingers out and takes his dick in hand, a questioning look thrown at Childe, who nods. He tears a foil, rolls a condom on his erection and pushes his cock in inch by inch, until it sinks into the warmth that is Childe. Childe groans as he feels all of Zhongli going in, mewling when it hits his prostate.

Zhongli gives him a moment’s pause to adjust to his length before he rolls his hips at a carefully slow tempo. And it isn’t bad, but it’s barely enough! Childe wants more!

“Harder!” he demands, skin prickling.

But Zhongli ignores him, continuing to thrust at that mind-numbingly slow pace which drives him crazy.

“Fuck me harder, Zhongli!” he whines.

His eyes widen when a hand comes down hard on one of his asscheeks, painting it pink. The resounding clap echoes through the room. 

“You will ask politely, you rascal,” Zhongli growls in his ears.

Another one of those, and Childe would cum, he is sure of it.

“Please,” he sobs. “Fuck me harder, Zhongli-xiansheng!”

He pounds hard into Childe, his kisses all teeth. Childe's fingers tug at his scalp, shooting sparks of pain through his skull. His erection slaps against Zhongli's belly, causing both of them to groan. Their lust-hazed minds dissolve until all that is left of them is the slapping of flesh, the heat of their bodies, their noises of pleasure. They rut like animals, loud and unrestrained. Zhongli takes Childe’s cock in his hand, pumping it to his desperate thrusts. The intense stimulation sends Childe off the edge as he cums for a second time, tears in his eyes. The sight of him so utterly laid out, spent and vulnerable is very stirring to Zhongli, who reaches his own release with a shout.

They stay like that for a while, panting and holding each other in the afterglow of their climax. Then Zhongli pulls out of him with a squelch, and Childe thinks for the first time of how many such embarrassing noises they must’ve made over the night. But it was fun. He enjoyed it. And judging from Zhongli’s peaceful countenance, it seems like he did, too. 

~o~

After a quick bath, Childe wears one of Zhongli's boxers, and they lay together in bed under the covers. He reaches his fingers to play with Zhongli's hair, tucking a strand behind his hair. Zhongli traces his nose with a contented smile, the pad of his thumb grazing his cheekbone. 

Suddenly, Childe's head perks up and he murmurs, "Zhongli, call me that thing from before." 

"What?" Zhongli asks, puzzled. 

"The bae-bey thing you called me. I wanna hear it once more."

Zhongli laughs and wraps an arm around him, "Oh, baobei? It means treasure, as you are to me."

Childe blushes and hides his face in Zhongli’s chest. Zhongli tilts his chin up, pulling him in for a tender kiss as the curtains rustle, carrying in the vagrant moonlight. This is the first time a goodnight kiss doesn’t end in them parting ways. Tomorrow will bring another sun, ushering in a new day of responsibilities—and the things they have to discuss together about their relationship. But at this moment, as they gaze fondly at one another, cuddling, they can pretend that this is eternity. A capsule of eternity in their hands, theirs to cherish and nurture, as they fall asleep in each other's arms.