[ Zhongli's breath catches and the blush spreads down his neck and to his collarbone as Childe hones in only the most pleasurable sensations. His hips shift in impatience that there are so many layers of clothes between them and that Childe's touch is met with layers of fabric instead of desired skin against skin.

Ah, Zhongli could melt in this moment, burn away to ash under the heat of this pleasure (muted that it was) and not regret a single moment of it. Distracted, the answer Zhongli gives Childe is one that is unfiltered and unprepared unlike his usual meticulous answers: ]

No. No... Of course not. It's endearing. Warm. All of those people who would fall for your charm and yet you chose...

[ To dote on him. To dote on Zhongli. Zhongli who rambles and sometimes misses social cues. Zhongli who is rigid and stubborn and particular and terrible with money. Zhongli who cannot understand what about him catches the attention of one of Snezhnaya's strongest but will not complain about how fortune played out.

It is mutual in some way. For Zhongli cannot quite put into words what draws him to Childe in return. He's assuredly handsome, most definitely charming but their personalities were like night and day, winter and summer. Why does Zhongli want only the fiercest warrior when he should want someone quiet and polite and academic?

But want Zhongli does as a drawn out moan follows the slide of Childe's tongue against his skin. ]

I would not care if it was wrong. I do not care if this does not makes sense.

I just want... I just want—

[ Childe. Childe. Childe ]