[ Zhongli's smile remains the same, but he can't keep the spark of anticipation from his eyes as they hungrily drink from each motion, each touch. He sinks into the soft sheets and pillows of Childe's bed (the highest quality of course even if it did not seem that Childe usually cared about such a fact), hands reaching up to touch where he could reach.
One drags along the column of Childe's neck, eventually finding rest over the his heart where Zhongli's fingers dig into the fabric of his frustratingly thick uniform shirt. The other explores the curve of his spine, the dip of his waist before settling on one hip, thumb running circles right underneath the hem of his shirt where Zhongli could finally touch skin to skin.
Oh, but he was forgetting something. (Wasn't he always?) But no, this was important. Important if he was going to live here with Childe so that there could be no question of the depths of his feelings. ]
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One drags along the column of Childe's neck, eventually finding rest over the his heart where Zhongli's fingers dig into the fabric of his frustratingly thick uniform shirt. The other explores the curve of his spine, the dip of his waist before settling on one hip, thumb running circles right underneath the hem of his shirt where Zhongli could finally touch skin to skin.
Oh, but he was forgetting something. (Wasn't he always?) But no, this was important. Important if he was going to live here with Childe so that there could be no question of the depths of his feelings. ]
And I wish to make love to you in return.