Chapter Text
Childe was acting strangely. Zhongli was greatly concerned by this, and feared that he had done something to drive Childe away, to ruin the closeness he’d cherished so much.
No spouse of his had ever been like Childe. There were none so fierce, so strong, so full of vitality and lust—for sex, for battle, for life itself. His very spirit nourished and healed Zhongli’s old, weary heart.
He was affectionate, often stroking Zhongli’s mane, or caressing his scales, or pressing kisses to his snout. And he desired Zhongli, even in his dragon form, and made love to him frequently.
It was true that Childe had disliked Zhongli’s human form and requested he be served by another. Zhongli was not sure what his error had been, but for Childe’s comfort he had acquiesced. Childe had seemed so troubled by their intimacy, and he had not pressed the matter, though the rejection made his heart ache.
It was enough to have Childe as his husband, to take him as a dragon as often as his body could endure it. Childe seemed to greatly enjoy their coupling, and was innovative in thinking of many different ways to find pleasure together.
Zhongli had been content of late, and it had shown in every aspect of his life. His adepti spoke about how peaceful his temperament had been since taking his bride, and even the humans who advised him had made comments about his gentler nature when they thought he wasn’t listening.
But lately, Childe would not look him in the eye. He turned his face away when Zhongli came near, his caresses halfhearted and fleeting. He did not sleep curled against Zhongli’s scales, but wandered through the halls of their home like a wraith until dark circles formed under his eyes and his mouth was set in a grim line.
Zhongli had made gentle inquiries into the nature of his distress, which Childe always rebuffed with a cheerful laugh and self-deprecating joke.
He was at a loss. And so their melancholy dance continued, as he yearned for the closeness he’d once had and endured the signs of his mate’s distress.
Perhaps Childe missed Snezhnaya. He held a great love for his homeland and adored his family, after all. This seemed a plausible theory, so one evening as they sat together in their chamber, not speaking as was their new routine, Zhongli raised the issue.
“Would you like to take a trip to Snezhnaya?” He watched Childe anxiously. “I could arrange for this as soon as next week.”
Childe’s gaze snapped to him. “Trying to get rid of me?” There was a harsh, suspicious edge to his voice.
“Of course not.” Zhongli was startled by his hostility. “I merely want to make you happy.”
“I am.” Childe turned his face away. “I am happy, Morax.”
“You are not,” Zhongli responded. “Please do not lie to me, my mate.”
Childe scrubbed his hand over his face, clearly distressed. “Just drop it, Morax.”
“I will not.”
“If we fought, who do you think would win?” Childe asked abruptly, getting to his feet. He began to pace the length of the floor.
He was so beautiful in the sunset light, his hair a shock of orange fire, his body lean and powerful beneath the simple clothes he wore.
“It may be difficult for us to spar,” Zhongli said. “But I can attempt such a thing if it would please you.”
“No.” Childe’s eyes blazed with a dark intensity. “If we fought for real. If we were on opposite sides of a battle, trying to kill each other.”
Even thinking of such a situation made Zhongli’s chest ache with sorrow, though in a way it was true. Childe was a Harbinger, carrying out the Tsaritsa’s will. Though Zhongli had hoped his loyalties would shift with his wedding vows, he would be a fool to assume such a transition would be easy.
“I’m stronger than you think,” Childe added sharply. “I was made a Harbinger for a reason.”
“I do not doubt it,” Zhongli said. “In such a hypothetical situation, you may indeed win.”
Childe blinked at him. “Over the power of an Archon?”
“You are my mate,” Zhongli said, “and my beloved. I would never raise arms against you. Therefore if such a thing came to pass, you would have the advantage.”
A soft, bitter huff of laughter. “Those are pretty words, Morax. Do you really expect me to believe that you would really sacrifice yourself for me?”
“Believe what you like, but it is the truth.”
Childe went to the window. The hard edge of his jaw, clenched in some overwhelming emotion, was silhouetted against the dying light.
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I’m a weapon. You know that, right? You wouldn’t blame your spear for opening the throats of your enemies. That’s how it is with me.”
Fists clenched and shoulders set, he turned back to Zhongli. He drew in a sharp breath, and released it in a trembling exhale. Zhongli yearned to set things to rights, to heal whatever wound had been inflicted on Childe’s heart. But he did not know how.
“You can’t love a weapon,” Childe said, crossing the distance between them. “But you can’t blame me either.”
“I don’t understand.”
Childe knelt before him, fingers caressing the underside of his neck, then moving lower over his chest. And then Zhongli did understand, as Childe’s hand plunged through his scales as though they were made of nothing more than water, his questing fingers closing around the shape of his gnosis.
“Kill me,” he whispered, baring his throat before Zhongli’s massive teeth. “It’s the only way to stop me. I’ll keep fighting until I’m dead.”
It felt as though Zhongli had been ripped open—not by the loss of his gnosis but the betrayal by the husband he had so loved. Zhongli had thought that Childe cared, that perhaps Childe had even loved him in return. But now it was clear he was nothing more than a mission, a mark that had fallen for Childe’s vicious charms. Yet even with the cold knowledge of Childe’s lies filling the space that had once held the nexus of his power, he could not bring himself to harm his mate.
“I will not stop you,” he said.
“You idiot.”
Childe ripped the small token of unimaginable power from Zhongli’s chest and clutched it in the palm of his hand. There had been so much affection between them once, yet he did not hesitate. Had all of it been a lie?
Zhongli’s vision blurred, his legs wobbling beneath him. Dimly, he heard Childe call his name. And then he knew nothing but darkness.
Childe pressed his face into Morax’s mane helplessly. The dragon lay lifeless on the floor, his body curved into the same shape he took when he slept curled around Childe’s back.
“I’m sorry,” Childe whispered into the soft, silky fur. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what would happen.”
He’d begged Morax to wake up, and tried to push the gnosis back into his chest, but the dark scales refused to yield, and Childe was forced to face the reality of what he’d done.
The gnosis clutched in his hand pulsed once and then was replaced by a perfect sphere of ice, a sign from the Tsaritsa that she had taken what she wanted and was pleased with Childe’s work. He cast it away, and it shattered against the far wall.
“No one told me,” he whispered, clutching Morax’s serpentine body close and nuzzling against his scales like he’d so often done. “Nobody told me what would happen. I’m so sorry. Please come back. Please, Morax.”
His voice broke, and then he was sobbing like he hadn’t done since he was a little boy with skinned knees and a bloody nose from a schoolyard fight. His tears dripped onto Morax’s snout, leaving little wet dots. He clutched Morax’s mane and curled himself around the dragon’s body, his chest heaving against smooth scales that had already gone cold.
That was how the adepti found him, a short while later.
“One felt a great elemental disturbance,” he heard Cloud Retainer say, as the door opened. “It would be prudent to investigate.”
“I’m sure everything is fine,” Ganyu replied. “I mean, our lord is—”
Childe looked up at the three of them—Ganyu, Cloud Retainer, and Xiao—and drew in a shuddering breath.
“Morax is—” His voice cracked, and he clutched the body tighter. The emotions coursing through him were overwhelming, devastating. He’d never felt anything so powerful, never been at the mercy of such sorrow before.
“Oh no,” Ganyu breathed, running to his side. She pressed a hand to Morax’s scales and let out a soft whimper.
“One is shocked by this turn of events,” Cloud Retainer said softly. “Perhaps one was foolish to believe our lord to be invincible.”
Xiao stood straight and still, his eyes wide. His mouth was half open in horror, but after a moment he closed it. A long, gleaming spear appeared in his hand, and he lunged forward in a gust of wind that ripped the air from Childe’s lungs.
“You,” he growled. The sharpened jade of the spear came to rest at Childe’s throat. “What have you done?”
“Xiao,” Ganyu said, putting a hand on his arm, but Xiao brusquely shrugged her off.
“Do whatever you want,” Childe said dully. He leaned into the blade, cutting a thin line across his throat before Xiao drew it back. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“He is grieving,” Ganyu said sharply. “As are we all.”
Xiao stepped back, looking abashed, though he had been more right than he knew.
Cloud Retainer lowered her head, silent for a long moment. “It would not do for one to wallow in grief. There are mourning traditions all must follow. For now, the body must be taken to the inner sanctum where one can begin the funerary processes.”
“No.” Childe clutched Morax close to his chest. “What if he wakes up? I’m not letting him go.”
“My dear one.” Cloud Retainer’s voice contained a rare sympathy. “Such hopes will only lead you to despair.”
Childe shook his head and held Morax more tightly, burying his face in Morax’s mane so he wouldn’t have to look at them anymore.
In the end, it took all three adepti to pry the body from his arms. No matter how desperately Childe called his name, Morax’s golden eyes did not open.
The mourning rituals required of Rex Lapis’ spouse were extensive and elaborate. Childe moved through them numbly, guided by the adepti, and was glad that few of them put him in the public eye. It wasn’t until the Rite of Parting that he returned to Liyue Harbor, dressed in the brightest white, pure and immaculate in his grief.
No one knew that it had been his fault, and the sympathy and care the adepti had shown him filled him with an unbearable guilt.
Zhongli was waiting for him at the edge of the platform, where a crowd of people had gathered to pray and mourn.
“My condolences,” Zhongli said, with a slight bow. But his eyes were cold, his expression severe and without sympathy. “I am here to guide you through the Rite.”
Childe nodded numbly. “Thanks.”
The rituals were intricate and exacting, and Zhongli was ruthless in demanding perfection. But Childe attended to all of them, flawlessly. He would not dishonor Morax’s memory. Although he hadn’t realized it until it was too late, he now knew he had fallen in love with Morax.
Since the day he emerged from the Abyss, scarred and vicious, he had believed that love was beyond him. No one could ever love him, dark, tainted creature that he was, and so he would love no one in return.
Yet with Morax, it felt… Well, there was no use dwelling on that now. True to his nature, Childe had destroyed the best thing to ever happen to him. Now all that was left to him was his grief. He would not return to the Tsaritsa and bask in praise for a mission well done. He would remain here, in Morax’s city, and honor his husband however he could.
The Rite of Parting took several hours, and by the end of it Childe was drained and exhausted. Zhongli led him to a quiet alcove, away from the crowds.
“You did well,” he said. “As I knew you would.”
They were words of praise, and yet they felt chastising. Childe had to steady himself not to flinch away from Zhongli’s tone.
But in a way, it felt good. Since Morax’s death, the adepti had fallen over themselves in their eagerness to be kind to him, bringing him offerings with sorrowful smiles. They showed him a regard that he didn’t deserve, and it made him sick to be the recipient of such goodness when all he deserved was to be hurt.
Zhongli clearly knew better. Somehow he must have known what kind of monster Childe really was.
“You’re angry at me,” Childe said.
Zhongli fixed him with a level stare, but did not deny it.
“It’s okay,” Childe said. “I deserve it. But you already knew that.”
There was a flicker of uncertainty in Zhongli’s eyes, but his expression remained impassive. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You wanted me once,” Childe said, and Zhongli’s lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. “So take me. Hurt me. Punish me in the way you know I deserve.”
Zhongli’s eyes widened, the gesture so slight Childe nearly missed it.
“I won’t stop you,” Childe said, and took a step back. “You know where I live.”
And before Zhongli could answer that, he turned on his heel and left.
Zhongli could not help but wonder at how thoroughly Childe had ensnared him. Even though Childe had betrayed him more deftly and deeply than anyone he had known in six thousand years, Zhongli craved the sight of him, the feel of his body, the sound of his voice. He longed for the comfortable cadence of their many conversations, the passion of their lovemaking, the warmth of Childe curled against his scales as they slept.
Had any of that been real? Or had he been nothing but an unwitting mark, one that Childe had deftly seduced and just as cleverly robbed?
The shock of having his gnosis ripped suddenly from his chest had knocked Zhongli from the Exuvia, momentarily returning him to a spirit of pure Geo, as he had once been. He had quickly returned to Liyue Harbor, to the residence he maintained to house his human form, and remained there as he recovered enough to take physical shape again.
It had not taken long, and he had not been permanently harmed in any way. He could easily have returned to his palace, assuming his draconic form once more.
But the gnosis would always be gone. And so his thoughts turned to Liyue—his beautiful Liyue, glorious as gold. He had shaped her mountains and valleys with his own two hands, stained her soil with the blood of his rivals. He had nurtured his people for thousands of years, leading them from war to peace, from survival to prosperity.
“You’ve finished your duties,” he heard the foreman at the dock say, pressing a day’s wages into the hands of a laborer.
Could he, too, partake in such respite?
He decided that he would. And so, instead of returning to his rightful place as Morax, he went to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to ask for a job. As the only person qualified to organize a Rite of Parting worthy of the Prime of the Adepti, he had much to attend to.
And yet he could not stop thinking of Childe, even now.
“Hurt me,” Childe had said. “Punish me.”
Zhongli could not make Childe feel the same devastation and betrayal that Childe had inflicted on him. But he could not deny that Childe’s words made something thrum through him, lust and anger and sorrow all tied up together. His emotions were as potent and chaotic as the churning sea, a sensation he was entirely unused to.
Once, decades could pass him by without leaving a mark on the stone of his heart. Yet in just the short time they’d known each other, Childe had carved his name on the unyielding granite of Zhongli’s very being and changed it completely.
Perhaps if Zhongli were to do as he asked, if he were to fuck Childe one last time, he could be rid of this obsession for good.
Bearing gifts from the Qixing, he made his way through the Golden House. Cloud Retainer and Ganyu had taken up residence near the front, ceremonial white mourning bands on their arms. He felt guilt squeeze his chest as he took in their solemn expressions.
He fully intended to send them dreams sharing the truth of the matter, but would wait for the Qixing to solidify their position of power first.
“From Tianquan Ningguang on behalf of the Qixing,” he said, nodding to the large box he carried. “They are meant for Tartaglia himself. Is he here?”
“As you know, Tartaglia is observing the proper ritual of seclusion,” Cloud Retainer said sternly. “He has not left here, nor will he until the moon is full once again. You would do well to remember that our lord’s mate has been faithful in his grief.”
The chastisement in her words was clear, and the absurdity of it made Zhongli almost want to laugh. Childe was a traitor, a foreign spy who had succeeded in stealing something of immeasurable value and changing Liyue forever.
And yet Zhongli was at fault as well, for giving him the opportunity. For falling for Childe’s reckless charm and making himself vulnerable.
“I will not disturb his peace,” Zhongli said, though he fully intended to. “Thank you for the reminder.”
He made his way down the long hallway to the quarters that he had shared with Childe. There he hesitated, a strange tension spiderwebbing through him, before knocking on the door.
After a few long moments, Childe answered it. He looked miserable, his hair messy and his clothes wrinkled, dark circles beneath his eyes. He let Zhongli in and, without preamble, walked towards the bedroom. Not the one he had shared with Zhongli, but the smaller room off to the side where Zhongli had installed a human-shaped bed in preparation for Childe’s arrival.
As soon as they entered the room, Childe pulled his shirt over his head and climbed onto his back on the bed. He moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, but still said nothing.
Zhongli was at a loss. This was not at all what he’d expected from his exuberant, fierce mate. Warily, he got into bed as well, kneeling between Childe’s legs and studying him carefully.
“Well?” Childe’s voice was harsh, cold. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
“I…” Despite it all, his desire to have Childe this one last time overrode his common sense. “Yes.”
He ran a hand down Childe’s chest, then leaned in to press rough kisses to his neck. His fingers dug hard into Childe’s body, teeth nipping at sensitive skin. He had made his way down to Childe’s nipples, taking them gently between his teeth when Childe began to tremble beneath him. He paused, pulling back.
Shockingly, Childe had started crying. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his shoulders shaking.
“Just— Just go, Zhongli,” he said. “I can’t do this.”
An overwhelming tenderness filled Zhongli’s heart, intertwined with stinging guilt. He had meant to hurt Childe, but not like this.
“Please, darling,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I never thought you could be so cruel.” Childe turned on his side, curled in on himself. “Why do you call me that? Why must you talk like him? Is that how you plan to hurt me, by reminding me of what I’ve lost?”
Childe bit back a broken sob, eyes squeezed shut. His cheeks were stained with tears, his hands clenched into tight fists.
“I miss him, Zhongli,” he said. “I miss him so much.”
“Childe…” Zhongli stroked his arm hesitantly. He had not expected Childe to feel much of anything beyond the satisfaction of a completed mission. Such grief was shocking and painful to witness.
“Don’t,” Childe said. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, looked Zhongli in the eye. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t be kind to me. I’m a monster, and I deserve all this and worse.”
Zhongli reached out to touch him, but pulled his hand back. He wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Was this emotion real? It had to be, for what could Childe stand to gain by such pretense?
“I’m so tired of this,” Childe said, hanging his head. “Do you want to know the truth? The truth is that I loved him, and I killed him anyway. I didn’t mean for it to happen but it’s still my fault. So go ahead. Call the adepti or the Milileth. Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care.”
Zhongli could barely breathe for the shock. At first it was all he could feel. Then the full impact of Childe’s words hit him.
I loved him.
In the jumble of truths Childe had just revealed, Zhongli was caught on that phrase again and again.
Childe loved him. Their time together had been neither a lie nor a ruse. Childe loved him and now grieved him, and he knew that despite his carefully laid plans, he could not let his mate suffer another moment.
“Darling,” he said, pressing his hand to Childe’s cheek. “Please forgive me. I never meant to cause you such anguish. If I had known that you carried the same love for me that I do for you, I would not have abandoned you.”
Childe’s breath hitched, eyes widening. “I don’t understand.”
“I was angry. I believed that the time we spent together, which I greatly cherished, was nothing more than a mission to you.”
“I…” Childe blinked, clutching the front of Zhongli’s shirt. “What does that mean?”
“If you had merely explained your situation to me, I would have given you the gnosis freely. And all of this might have been avoided.”
“Morax?” Childe whispered, hesitant and cautious as though he were afraid to know the answer.
Zhongli nodded. “I have missed you.”
Childe gave a choked laugh, clutching at Zhongli’s lapels. “You’re alive,” he whispered, burying his face in Zhongli’s neck. “You’re really alive. Morax… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”
“I am sorry too,” Zhongli murmured, holding Childe close against his chest. “I should not have assumed you were a callous mercenary, nor left you to your grief.”
Childe pulled away, beaming through the tear trails on his face. “I’m just so happy that I get to see you again, husband.”
Zhongli could not help but plant an affectionate kiss on Childe’s lips, but then he quickly pulled back. “I apologize. I had forgotten this form was not to your liking. If we go back to the center chamber, I can take my old shape again.”
“You’re devastatingly attractive like this,” Childe said, his tone bright and joyful. “I like you a little too much, Zhongli. I didn’t want to be tempted into cheating on my husband, that’s all.”
Ah. Zhongli brought his hand to his chin with an embarrassed cough. Even after all this time, many of the nuances of human customs were beyond him.
“Wait a minute,” Childe said, shaking his head wildly. “Wait. Wait a damn minute.”
Zhongli sat back, concerned. This seemed important, so he tried to keep his gaze on Childe’s face, and not let his greedy eyes roam over the broad, freckled shoulders and sculpted chest with its sparse tufts of ginger hair just below.
“Just—” Childe ran a hand through his hair. “This is probably crazy but… I met this woman named Ling? It was about a year ago, near—”
“Near a quiet village in the Eastern Province of Snezhnaya,” Zhongli said, with a rueful smile. “Yes. That was me.”
Childe ran a hand through his hair with a soft, exasperated huff of laughter, but while annoyed, he did not seem to be truly angry. “Are there any other forms I should know about?”
“Just one other. The form of the Prime of the Adepti is unlike any other living being, though you could perhaps consider it a point halfway between a dragon and a human.”
“Okay, this I have to see,” Childe said, sitting up eagerly. “Can you do it now?”
“Yes, but it’s best that I disrobe first,” Zhongli said, climbing off the bed. “As there is a minor size difference.”
It was gratifying to see Childe’s eyes linger over his skin as Zhongli quickly but carefully stripped, folding his clothes and setting them on the nearby dresser. Taking a breath, he let himself sink deeper into Geo, the air around them shimmering with gold dust and settling heavy with the weight of his power.
“Oh,” Childe said, a soft inhale.
In this form, Zhongli stood about a foot taller, with horns of purest cor lapis branching from his head like coral. Scales covered his shoulders and ran in irregular intervals down his spine, and his skin was laced through with barely perceptible lines of pure gold. But, as he should have predicted, Childe’s attention was drawn to one feature in particular.
“Holy fuck,” Childe whispered. “You have two dicks.”
Zhongli crossed his arms. “This form has a great deal of symbolism relating to Liyuen culture and many aspects that speak of my prowess and strength, and worthiness as your mate. And yet you choose to focus on my genitalia?”
Irrepressible as always, Childe just grinned. “You’re right, o’ glorious lord of contracts. Why don’t you tell me some of the symbolism while you fuck me with those two monsters?”
“You are incorrigible,” Zhongli chided, but Childe had already climbed off the bed and into Zhongli’s arms, holding tightly to his shoulders and wrapping one of his legs around Zhongli’s waist.
Zhongli’s body responded to Childe as it always did. It felt as though Childe’s vision must be Electro rather than Hydro because every touch sent a jolt of electricity through Zhongli. The sensation was even more intense in this form, which fit a little more comfortably than either of his others. The grand dragon Rex Lapis had been created in the early days of the Archon War, to appear powerful and intimidating to his enemies and give his people faith that they would be protected. The various human forms he’d taken over the millenia had by necessity been unassuming as any human would be.
But this was what he had dreamed of becoming in a time so long ago it had been forgotten by all but himself, a time when he was too young and weak to choose his own shape. It was how he saw himself in his mind’s eye even all these eons later.
To know that Childe found this form desirable satisfied a craving Zhongli hadn’t even realized he possessed. He leaned down and kissed him, tangling his fingers in Childe’s hair and gently scratching his scalp with his claws.
“How I’ve missed you,” he murmured against Childe’s mouth, pressing his hand to the side of Childe’s face. His limbs were as dark as obsidian, shot through with rigid lines of glowing cor lapis. They made a stark contrast to Childe’s fair skin, and the sight of it sent a thrill through Zhongli.
“Mmm.” Childe got to his knees, gently stroking Zhongli’s cocks, one in each hand. “And I’ve missed you.”
Zhongli tangled his fingers in Childe’s hair and tugged so Childe was forced to look up at him. “Are you talking to me or to my cocks?”
“It can be both.” Childe gave him a wicked smile, then took one of Zhongli’s cocks in his mouth, one hand coming up to press the other to the side of his cheek. He moaned, low and hungry, and the sound sent pleasant vibrations through Zhongli’s body. While Childe had done his best to fellate Morax, his jaw could never open quite wide enough. But he made up for it now, demonstrating his mastery with admirable zeal. His mouth was tight and wet, his tongue pressed up against the underside of Zhongli’s cock. Drool ran down his chin and precome from Zhongli’s second cock spilled onto his face as he stroked it.
“Childe,” Zhongli rasped, tugging urgently at Childe’s hair. But Childe made a soft sound that might have been a laugh and doubled his efforts, taking Zhongli deeper and furiously pumping the cock that wasn’t in his mouth until the pleasure crested and Zhongli spilled first onto Childe’s eager tongue and then, shortly after, onto his face, coating his cheek, lips, and the bridge of his nose in pearly white spend. He groaned, low and resonant, his legs trembling and his fingers tugging on Childe’s hair as the near simultaneous orgasms overwhelmed him.
He panted, opening his eyes to memorize the sight of Childe covered in copious amounts of his semen.
Not one to be easily overwhelmed, Childe just grinned up at him, licking his lips. “Did I do good?”
“Darling.” It was a miracle Zhongli was capable of speech at all. “Yes, you did wonderfully.”
“I’m going to wash my face and clean up,” Childe said, getting to his feet. “I want you to sit out here and think about how you could have been fucking me with two cocks every day for the last month if you’d just been honest with me.”
His voice was stern, but there was a twinkle in his eye and he winked as he slipped into the bathroom.
Zhongli sat on the bed and did as he’d been instructed. The image Childe had painted before disappearing into the bathroom was not conducive to waiting. Zhongli did not truly expect Childe to take both cocks at once, but he was such an accommodating lover that perhaps he would take one after the other. Zhongli’s current form had no real refractory period, and so he spent an interminable amount of time painfully aroused and yearning for Childe’s presence.
But it was worth the wait. Childe returned to Zhongli wearing a silk robe that clung to his wet skin and fell open to reveal the hard planes of his chest. The fabric was embroidered to look like scales, rendered in a rich brown, while the trim was the same vibrant orange of Morax’s mane. In those colors, no one could doubt who he belonged to, or who held his loyalty and his affections.
“I thought you’d like it,” Childe said, smirking as he climbed onto the bed and crawled into Zhongli’s lap, the soft silk of the robe brushing over Zhongli’s thighs. “Don’t I look like Morax’s bride?”
“You always look like my chosen partner,” Zhongli said, his hands coming up to rest at Childe’s waist. “Because you are what my beloved looks like.”
He slid one hand up Childe’s thigh to confirm that Childe was in fact naked under his robe. He skimmed his nails over the sensitive inside of Childe’s thigh, then closed his fingers around Childe’s cock. Chile kissed him, hard and rough and passionate, scooting forward so that he was kneeling over Zhongli’s lap. He grabbed Zhongli’s cocks with a slick hand, stroking each roughly before guiding one of them to his entrance.
His hole was slick and soft, and although he had clearly stretched it already, Zhongli’s girth made it a tight fit.
“It’s just been a while,” Childe said, panting softly. “Go slow.”
“Of course.” Zhongli fought back the overwhelming thrum of his own arousal, thrusting shallowly until Childe adjusted to the stretch and he could sheathe himself fully. Childe was so tight around him, hot and slick and perfect. It was enough to make him take leave of all reason. All he could think of was how much he wanted Childe, how much he loved him, and how good it felt to be inside him.
“I love you,” he murmured against Childe’s neck, thrusting slowly up into him so as to draw the moment out as long as possible. He was lost in bliss, overwhelmed by the scent and taste and feel of his mate, so close it would be impossible to separate them.
Then he felt one of Childe’s fingers, pressed against his cock. Childe pushed it further, past his rim and inside himself, making the already tight fit even more so.
“What…” Zhongli blinked at him, confused.
“I said I was going to take them both and I’m going to take them both,” Childe answered, determined.
Zhongli shuddered in arousal, drawing in a low breath, as Childe slipped a second finger inside.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said through gritted teeth, trying not to give in to the lust that coursed hotly through his veins.
“You won’t.” Childe was panting, his chest and neck flushed a bright red. “Just trust me. I know my limits.”
How could Zhongli refuse such a gift? He reached down and stroked Childe’s cock, kissed the side of his neck and murmured soft praise against his skin. The attention made Childe relax a little further, sink deeper into the haze of arousal, so that he could get three fingers inside himself, making room for Zhongli to fuck him.
No one else had ever done this. Of the few human lovers that had actually seen this form, none had been willing to attempt it. But Childe’s body was stronger and more resilient than most, and he would never back down from a challenge.
“Okay,” he said, legs trembling and brow furrowed in concentration. He pulled his slick fingers away, wiping them on the sheets. “I’m ready.”
Zhongli lifted him off of his cock and gently laid him on his back, kissing him roughly for just a moment. Then he knelt between Childe’s legs and began to press both his cocks inside him.
Even with Childe’s thorough preparation, it was a tight fit. Childe’s hands were fisted in the bedsheets, his body trembling with the strain and the overwhelming stretch.
“Darling,” Zhongli gasped, sliding into him with exacting slowness. “You feel so good. You take me so well, like your body was made for me. You’re doing wonderfully, love.”
Childe whined softly at the praise, his body opening so that Zhongli could sink in to the hilt. He drew a ragged breath. It was the best thing he’d ever felt around his cocks, tight and hot and unbearably good to have them both stimulated so intensely and at the same time.
“Okay,” Childe said, the flush on his skin spreading wider across his chest. “Fuck me, Morax.”
At first, Zhongli moved slowly, trembling with the effort of holding back. But Childe dug his nails into Zhongli’s back and demanded more, asked to be fucked harder.
The last of Zhongli’s restraint snapped, and he gave Childe what he wanted, thrusting roughly against him as the pleasure peaked higher and higher. Tears ran down Childe’s cheeks, but he only begged for more, for everything Zhongli could give him.
His chest heaving and an overwhelming heat and pleasure coursing through his veins, he buried himself as deeply as he could and, with a groan that made the earth tremble beneath them, he came, both cocks at the same time. It felt like flying, an undeniable rush of adrenaline, but better, sweeter and all consuming. It lasted and lasted, as he filled Childe with his spend.
Beneath him, Childe arched his back and stroked his cock just once before he was coming too, painting his stomach white and crying out Zhongli’s name.
Even as Zhongli went soft, it felt so good, so right, to be inside Childe, and it was with some reluctance that he pulled out. He leaned back and watched his come spill from Childe’s gaping hole, feeling pleased and proud to have claimed his mate so thoroughly.
“Perverted old dragon,” Childe rasped, tugging gently on Zhongli’s shirt. “C’mere and cuddle me.”
After quickly cleaning them up, Zhongli did as he’d been asked. But he was only able to bask in the warmth of their embrace for a few moments before there was a loud banging at the door.
“Open this door!” Cloud Retainer sounded furious. “One will give those inside the count of ten to make themselves decent before one enters forcefully.”
“Cloud Retainer.” Ganyu’s voice was low and scandalized. “Mister Zhongli is an upstanding citizen of Liyue Harbor. There is no call for such accusations.”
When Cloud Retainer began to count to ten, Zhongli shifted back to his human form and dressed quickly. He knew she was not one to bluff. Childe must have known it as well, because he threw the blankets over his lower half and cast Zhongli an anxious look.
“Honored Adeptus Cloud Retainer,” Zhongli said, opening the door as Cloud Retainer got to three. “How may I help you?”
“One is not to be fooled,” Cloud Retainer said peevishly, peering around him as though trying to catch a glimpse of Childe. “One came to chastise you for taking advantage of Tartaglia in his grief.”
“I believe you misunderstand—” Zhongli began, but Cloud Retainer cut him off.
“One does indeed not understand,” Cloud Retainer flapped her wings irritably. “Our lord is presumed dead by all, yet stands before one debauched and deceptive.”
Ganyu gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Cloud Retainer, how can you say such a thing?”
“One is not mistaken.” Cloud Retainer glared accusingly at Zhongli. “Or is it a common human attribute, to cause an earthquake in the throes of passion?”
Zhongli opened his mouth and closed it again. He did not have an explanation to offer beyond the obvious. Behind him and still in bed, Childe was laughing uncontrollably, nearly doubled over in mirth.
“This is not that funny,” Zhongli chided him.
“One wonders that you would scold your spouse when you were the one to deceive him so,” Cloud Retainer muttered, affronted.
Zhongli sighed. “You are right, Honored Cloud Retainer.”
Cloud Retainer preened. “One has waited many a century to hear Lord Rex Lapis say those very words.”
“Rex Lapis?” Ganyu whispered, her eyes shimmering. “I… is it really you?”
“I am sorry, dear one,” Zhongli said, taking her hands. “I have deceived you all, but not without reason. Please call the adepti here, that I may only have to explain myself once.”
Ganyu nodded, wiping her eyes. “I will send for them.”
Then she surprised him by pulling him into a tight embrace. He held her close for a few moments, rubbing soothing circles onto her back. When he let her go, she was smiling brightly.
“One recommends outdoor areas for particularly passionate moments,” Cloud Retainer had slipped by him and was standing at the side of the bed, leaning in to whisper to Childe. “So as to cause less structural damage. As for your current inability to walk, one may have some healing unguents the next time your husband is so reckless.”
“Right.” Childe was blushing brightly, looking everywhere but at Cloud Retainer. “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind.”
“See that you do.” With her head held high, Cloud Retainer stalked off, and Ganyu quietly followed her.
“Why do I feel like I just got lectured about sex by my mom?” Childe groaned, covering his face with his hands.
Zhongli climbed into bed with him and pulled him close. “I think the adepti love you more than they love me.”
“Mmm.” Childe sighed happily, his eyes fluttering shut. “Probably. But I love you enough to make up the difference.”
“And I love you.” With a kiss to the top of his head, Zhongli settled in to watch over his exhausted mate until morning.
After seven weeks of seclusion, Morax’s spouse observed seven months of mourning, dressed in white and remaining chiefly in the Golden House. At the end of the mourning period, he began seven years of honor, during which he would take no other lover.
No one was surprised when, at the end of the seven years, seven months, and seven weeks, a wedding announcement was made. The honorable consultant to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had been nothing but decent and proper throughout the many years of grief, but had remained ever by Tartaglia’s side.
The Qixing sent their well wishes from the Jade Chamber, a large contingent of red haired Snezhnayans descended on the Harbor, and even the adepti briefly appeared to show their approval.
“One believes Rex Lapis himself would bless this union,” Cloud Retainer was rumored to have said at the feast, presiding over the proceedings from a distance but speaking loudly enough that all would hear her opinions. There were none who disagreed, least of all Rex Lapis himself.