It’s a surprise at first … to say the least. Was Tartaglia this excited to be back in the land of Geo ? He drank more than usual, but Zhongli figured between friends he could indulge from what he imagined were hectic travels given what which was boiling down under Teyvat and to come … the way such a youth could handle this much kept both fascinating and nearly worrying part of the consul. Was this one of the many ways the Snezhnayan coped … ?
There is no way he will hurt me. Is what the dragon thinks when he let the other’s touch grow more intimate, and the familiar scent of the redhead tickle his sensitive sense of smell, before a warmth grazes against the Archon’s thin lips. He still does not move : do not wake up someone who is sleep walking … this saying felt oddly appropriate in this moment. Was this Childe asking of him an indulgence away from anything but the two of them ? This was … way past the social contract they both have had, but with the Gnosis having passed on months ago, and both their role in the world out in the open with nowhere to hide … this felt … different, than it had been since they first met.
Zhongli is unable to tell what his heart feels, entirely focused like a third party observer on the other’s mitigations. He is also thinking, about what is appropriate, when being attacked by such an inappropriate rascal ?
Amber eyes focus, meeting the other’s deep blues, reading the depth of those empty globes, the influence of the abyss so intertwined in his person there is no way to tell the two apart … it is still just as striking how much of a sight Childe is amongst the people of Liyue. Bright and loud. Brash and impetuous. Both his physique and personality have him truly be one in millions the God has seen … but is this enough to close a gap to intimacy ?
Almost mechanically, Zhongli’s lips part, twitching as his head remains in place to show a sign of kissing the younger back. Given the assault, it does not take long before his tongue soon taste his partner. At first slightly meek, like any proper first moment of intimacy between two people : would Tartaglia be scared biting his tongue off with his dragon maw ? The thought amuse the funeral consultant, who silently hiccups while still in place : one could by this motion almost hear his deep voice chuckle, even if no sound actually came out.
He still cannot tell if he wants this, only that he does not mind any outcome … and that putting a stop to it would have how far the Fatuus could go be an enigma.
And every time their path cross, Zhongli is fully aware of the very real possibility of it being the last time.
The tip of the dragon’s human tongue gently pushes against the younger’s, gently, as they both get to know one another carnally. The taste, the touch … all those things entirely unfamiliar to one another until now despite their tumultuous friendship. The signs of not stopping encourages Zhongli to put the Snezhnayan more at ease, his still gloved right hand sliding up Childe’s thigh, taking its time to trace over his garter and teasing the side of the material like he was about to slide right under it. Yet he does not do so (yet), instead softly holding onto the redhead’s small back. Touching it, without pushing him away nor closer to him.
The other hand moves upwards as the deity briefly interrupts the kiss, teeth grabbing onto one finger before pulling his glove to reveal his porcelain, milky honeyed complexion underneath. The movements are slow, deliberate, elegant so as to not stop the pace of their intimacy. Zhongli’s bare skin moves up the Harbinger’s stomach as he distracts him by moving forward to have their lips meet again, while his touch travel above the scarlet fabric of his shirt … Then, in a smooth motion, as if used to this, rise underneath the other’s harness, his hold now bent to the shape of the youth’s firm chest. A comforting, golden warmth subtly shine while the consultant’s skin harden, hands and arms turning scale by scale into a darker, deeper shade with Rex Lapis’ golden linings.
Ajax’s heartbeat. He wants to feel it. Is it calm ? Erratic ? What is this, honestly, annoyance feeling in this very moment ? The kisses never seem to end ; the dragon’s usual calculations stop as he finds no purpose counting when their tongue and lips part to move against one another again ; it has simply gone long enough he is unable to tell his own taste from the other.
In the escalation and grip he is now holding onto more firmly where his hands laid, the former Archon had not even thought about the way his long leg was naturally rising to hold their position, but also near imperceptibly riding up between Tartaglia’s thighs. It is a tease : not committing consciously while pressing just enough to hint at hidden promises.
It does not matter how long had passed, it is enough to have their breath heavier, and a small strand of drool between them breaking while Zhongli move back to speak the first words since what seems like forever ago. His baritone voice is still as firm and patronizing as ever, like nothing special had just occurred, as if he was only a few moments from scolding the Fatui for this scandalous initiative.
Tartaglia anticipated Zhongli to push him back -- keep him at arm’s length and permit the Harbinger to act no further. The alcohol seeping within his system that liquid courage he so desperately begged for to act upon the swollen emotions deep within him he dared never allow surface. He didn’t -- he couldn’t -- destroy what small amount of an amicable relation held by a thread rested between them.
Still, what would Zhongli do, and frankly, he got a reaction never once expected. A sensation he only expected to feel nestled in his lucid dreams of them spending time together in a close proximity where they share their heat on an intimate level. To be kissed in turn by the elder only enticed that liquid courage inside his veins and fuels his singular wish.
Heart pounds wildly against his ribcage as the dragon holds his frame -- touching, sensing, feeling. His own hands continue to stay tangled in long brown locks as they settle into a rhythm suiting their choices. A taste he dreamed of drinking in and smothering against buds upon pink muscle that explores the damp cavity of his companion’s mouth. Kiss breaks for only seconds before clashing against one another again.
Legs twitch around theirs the farther it pushes up between and chest heaves against the warmth of palm resonating against chest, heartbeat never slowing down. It feels... calming and soothing, considering the heat of the situation. For once, he feels close to Zhongli both physically and emotionally, even if the other possibly feels entirely different. The dragged minutes of the silence within the kiss draw to a close the moment consul breaks it. Snap of saliva beads while momentarily tip of tongue lulls out from between lips.
He pants, catching his breath as air through nostrils not quite enough when preoccupied by other matters. Eyelids heavy over deep blue orbs shadowed by that burning need.
Drunk.... right, he most likely might be a tad drunk. Lost track of the number of glasses he consumed while in their company over a meal. The comfortability of lap, enveloped in the gentleness of the geo energy flowing. It’s not his imagination, right? Slow blink of eyelids as Tartaglia gives off an appearance of being out of it.
Until, he pulls hands back, tugging along some strands of their long hair toward the front. One hand slips down while other reaches up to cup the side of Zhongli’s face. A smirk tugs along corner of lips. “I’m not that drunk to not know what I’m doing,” playful ring to vocals, “and I certainly do not regret anything.” Well, he’s used to the former Archon scolding him for acting out of turn or steering a conversation in the wrong direction from what the former means to accomplish.
An envoy must keep their diplomatic partners at a distance, draw a line and never cross, as eventually one might betray the other.... Yet, before Tartaglia had a chance to escape it, he already yearned for the Archon’s attention and affection... Though, knowing Zhongli, he personally doesn’t expect it in return. He latches onto this momentary lapse of intimacy with sharp claws to dig in and not let go until the other pushes him away.
Thumb brushes along cheek, unwavered from their piercing golden stair. “It’s been so long since I last... no, we last got the chance to spend time together over a warm meal and delicious drinks. I’ve dwelled on it long and hard from the last time I saw you, and it even haunts me in my dreams -- heh, isn’t it funny? How much I think about you, and wish I could solidify myself within you?”
While it’d be easy to blame it on the alcohol, he means every word by not regretting a moment of it. “My duty to help her Majesty tear this world run by Celestia down, to conquer this world beneath my feet, yet... even I fall victim to emotions. I am only mortal, after all. I wish I’d been able to get up the courage on my own to tell you how I wish you could come with me and spend this time with me.” Ajax chuckles at that point. “That’s just my wishful thinking, as I am Her Majesty’s Harbinger and you are a once powerful Archon.” The urge to kiss the consul bubbles up within him, yet he holds himself back. His seat upon their lap enough for him now. “You were once my target, yet here I am in love with you.”
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