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"All right, Zhongli, are you ready?"
"No."
"He's ready, Albedo."
"...very well." Zhongli sighs, massaging his temple.
They await for Albedo's order but the young man only settles one hand under his chin as he peers at Zhongli and Childe from the corner of his easel.
To think that Albedo wants both him and Childe - him especially - to become his models so that he may overcome what Albedo callously calls artist's block.
Zhongli isn't against it, of course. Anything to help young souls these days. He's even helped Xinyan with her songs before as well, sharing critiques each time she asks for his opinions.
However, to ask Zhongli and Childe to perform soft erotic… poses while Albedo draws them is rather embarrassing. And mayhaps a little bit too much.
Especially since Albedo is naught but a stranger to Zhongli.
It's Childe who is close to Albedo, considering that they share the same fiery passion for doing what they love the most.
Childe has insisted to Albedo that fighting itself is a form of art and Albedo's ears perk at the word art - the rest of the sentence is mute to him - and that is the only thing it needs for those two to become genuine friends.
Albedo with his trusted paintbrush and Childe with his hydro arsenals.
Zhongli, though, is just a victim of the 'in the wrong place at the wrong time' situation.
One look at the former Archon and Albedo is sure Zhongli's beauty is the solution to his art block.
And Childe is added into the algorithm to perfect the balance.
It doesn't require too much persuasion to ask Zhongli to model for Albedo, courtesy of Childe. Meanwhile, Childe is just eager to assist a friend in need.
Or so the Fatui claims. Childe seems too eager.
So here they are in Northland Bank where no one is allowed to disturb them for the rest of the afternoon. On a sofa. With Childe hovering above him; looking positively bright as he smiles so mischievously at Zhongli.
Zhongli clears his throat, trying to hide the dim glowing heat on his cheeks. Several weeks without his gnosis and already he's suffering from what humans call puppy love. It's ridiculous. Him. Lord Geo. The oldest former Archon. Having a crush on a human.
Maybe it's more than that. Who knows. What Zhongli knows is that he very much likes the image of him kissing Childe silly. He's envisioned it more than once.
"Ah, yes. Very well. I've come to a decision," Albedo speaks, finally breaking the silence. He twists on the stool. Instead of reaching for a paintbrush, the young artist grabs a charcoal pencil.
There's a small tap tap as he very gently raps the tip of the pencil on the easel. Eyes hard and determined, peeking occasionally at his models reclining on the long divan.
"I've come up with a dozen poses for this project but we'll go through this one by one until I find the precise pose to draw. Will that be okay?"
"Certainly," Zhongli answers. He swallows and feels Childe's eyes follow the curve of his lips and the bob of his neck when Zhongli swallows. That sharp gaze is pinning him down.
"Okay," is all the Fatui offers, still staring intently at Zhongli.
"Great," Albedo replies softly. "First, Childe, can you prop one of your legs between mister Zhongli's knees just like-- yes, good. Like that. Both of your hands on either side of his head. And lowers your face a little bit closer to-- oh… I wanted to say closer to his face but that's fine, too, I suppose. Stay still while I draw this quickly."
"Okay," Childe chirps happily.
Zhongli is not okay with this. Childe's face is so so so close to his neck. Zhongli can feel the erratic huff on his sensitive skin very vividly just like how he can feel the ghostly touch of Childe's nose under his ear.
It almost makes Zhongli shiver every time Childe exhales. And he hopes the other doesn't notice it.
Zhongli jolts when he feels a shaky push to his groin, rubbing him very, very slowly. He glimpses down only to see Childe applying a lazy pressure between his legs.
It aches in a way that makes Zhongli want to press down even more against Childe's knee and chase after the delicious touch. It's embarrassing. So very foolish.
"Childe?" he questions. Bemused by this unexpected gesture. Surely Childe doesn't realize what he's doing, yes?
Above him, Childe only smiles innocently. "Yes, Zhongli?" His voice is so sickeningly sweet. The thrust from his knee doesn't stop. Just a lazy stroke. Up. Down. Up. Down. Neither too quick nor too slow.
A tent begins forming under his dark trousers. The former Archon bites his lower lip. He's getting aroused from this?
It unearths a wave of shaky irritation from Zhongli's chest. A simple fondling and he's almost hard. How immature.
Zhongli closes his legs to stop the other from accessing his crotch. Childe merely raises a brow at this.
"Something wrong?" still with the same impossibly sweet tone.
"No. Ah. Your… your knee." Zhongli clears his throat. "I'm not sure if you noticed it but--"
"I do," Childe mutters curtly. There's a dark feral want in his eyes.
Zhongli blinks. He glances at Albedo, who's too busy focusing on his art rather than at them. Zhongli stares back at Childe. The question easily slips from his tongue.
"If you do, then why?"
Childe grins. A wolf in sheep's clothing. A wild beast reined back by a chain around its neck to prevent it from going frenzied and Zhongli is the little trapped prey that lures the beast to devour.
Zhongli has always known there's another side to Childe. He's not a fool. But to see its entirety unfurls before his very eyes is another different matter.
Childe leans closer and closer until his lips are brushing faintly against Zhongli's. His eyes lock on Zhongli's unrelenting gaze.
"A punishment. For using and deceiving me."
Childe bends forward, nipping at Zhongli's jaws. The wetness from Childe's tongue cools him, makes Zhongli inhale shakily; teeth biting into the softness of the skin. Probably leaving red marks.
Childe moves upward, licking Zhongli's earlobe in an almost sluggish manner, earning himself a choked gasp from the former Archon underneath.
"A punishment for handing your pretty gnosis to Signora instead of me," Childe bites. His voice is dangerously low. Possessive.
Zhongli opens his mouth to protest properly when suddenly Albedo speaks up. "Please don't move too much," he implores.
Zhongli abruptly feels caught and quickly closes his mouth. All words die on his tongue.
Childe looks at his friend with a fabricated sorrowful look. A mask that's so easily equipped. "Sorry! My leg was itchy and Zhongli had to help me scratch it." He grins half-heartedly.
Right. Itchy.
"Oh." Albedo blinks. "Sorry. I didn't consider the possibility. But. If it's okay, can you two change pose again? This one doesn't work so well."
"Sure!" Childe answers sincerely.
Zhongli doesn't even get the opportunity to appeal for a less lubricious position when Albedo is already spouting his next request.
"Second one: mister Zhongli, can you please sit down-- Childe, that's not the pose-- Childe, please put mister Zhongli down. He's not supposed to be sitting in your lap, Childe…" a yelp from Zhongli. "Childe, please... no. Don't. Hands where I can see them… oh, fine." Albedo relents, procures another new canvas, and continues drawing.
Zhongli, on the other hand, is struggling in Childe's lap when the harbinger casually slips his gloved hands under Zhongli's shirt. Unmindful of the thick layers of clothing.
The former Archon harshly clenches the obtrusive thin wrists and glares down at the Fatui. A conspicuous warning. What an obstinate rascal.
But Childe only hums a foreign tune and runs his hands up to Zhongli's nipples, twisting the slowly perk buds between his fingers, grinning shamelessly at Zhongli.
Zhongli yelps. Again. Albedo peeks at them. "Is something wrong, mister Zhongli? Are you itchy, too?"
Childe's fingers still, hidden from Albedo's line of sight but a single movement might give them away.
Zhongli doesn't dare to look at Albedo since he's utterly sure his face is flushed. The color of a freshly plucked peach. Zhongli can't tell if he's angry or if it's something else.
It's been so long since anyone has ever touched Zhongli like this. Too long. The heat burns his skin easily and Zhongli feels so ashamed for curling with unbridled wants in Childe's hands.
He shouldn't succumb to Childe. Shouldn't be acting like this. Not in front of Albedo.
Childe doesn't seem to share a similar sentiment when he pushes his pelvis up to seek the fleeting friction, rubbing himself against Zhongli.
Zhongli lets out a choked gasp and Childe takes the opportunity to part the former Archon's legs so he can slot himself between Zhongli's thighs and resume the quick tempo. Much more hungrily this time. As if Childe wants to shred the clothes Zhongli wears.
Zhongli groans, hands curl in Childe's choppy orange hair. Back arches like a bow when Childe's hand goes to his nape and the other goes around Zhongli's waist, keeping him in place as they rut against one another on the divan.
"Ah…"
"Excuse me, what's going on?" Albedo asks carefully. Brows furrow.
"Childe," Zhongli whispers breathlessly. "Albedo's watching."
Childe slows down his hips with a muffled laugh. His face is tucked in Zhongli's chest.
"It's…" Childe breathes once. Twice. "It's just another itch, Albedo. S'okay."
"Ah, well, of course. Well then. Another pose, all right?"
All the young painter gets is a small 'sure' from Childe and nothing else from Zhongli. Not even an affirmation.
Childe looks up at him and Zhongli is not sure what the young Fatui is seeing - perhaps his disarray hair or his flushed, sweaty face - but those blue eyes turn cold and Childe's face darkens.
"Fuck this," he growls.
"Okay so-- what are you doing, Childe?" Albedo questions with a shrill in his voice, shocked when Childe suddenly flips Zhongli over so now he's the one lying prone on the couch again.
Zhongli's head is rested on the divan's arm whilst one of his legs props over the sofa's inside back and his other feet touches the floor. The bulge in his trousers is obvious. A problem that's mirrored by Childe.
"Zhongli," Childe breathes desperately. He fists the sofa so roughly the soft leather twists under the pressure.
He lowers his body until they are chest to chest, lips close but not meeting, just a hairbreadth away, and somehow Zhongli feels as if Childe is still a league away.
He abhors the distance and so with a curiosity of a little kitten, Zhongli presses his lips against Childe's; merely tasting at first, unsure if he's allowed such a luxury but the doubt is sorely misplaced it seems when Childe smashes their mouths together.
Zhongli moans sweetly.
"Wow," Albedo remarks. None of them can see it but there's a spark of fire in the young painter's eyes upon witnessing the scene before him.
"Yes. Indeed, this is what I've been searching for. The unrepentant want. The shameless desire. The venereal longing. I couldn't put it into words before but now, I understood one surely must leave their comfort zone to be rid of their art block and this is what I need to begin anew," Albedo declares confidently. His eyes shine.
He taps his charcoal pencil keenly on the new blank canvas and starts drawing again, following Zhongli and Childe's every move.
Zhongli is deaf to anything else except for Childe's voice and Childe talks a lot.
He palms the forming tent and looks down at Zhongli with those daze blue eyes; ambers and fire soar brightly in his gaze.
"Zhongli. Zhongli. If we were somewhere else I'd have torn these annoying clothes from you and fucked you raw. Roughly. Want to see you cry and beg for me to fill your womb with my seed. What do you think, Zhongli? Is there a precious womb hidden here somewhere?" Childe presses his palm on Zhongli's belly reverently, fingers tapping the clothed skin.
Childe removes his belt and unbuttons his trousers before he frees his cock from its restraint. The harbinger strokes himself into fullness while poking the tip on Zhongli's face, tapping the cockhead against the quivering mouth.
Blue eyes never stray from the writhing consultant.
Childe is big.
Zhongli moans at the sight, tongue jutting out to taste the saltiness of precum dribbling from Childe's cockhead. He wants and wants and wants that cock inside him. In his mouth.
Everywhere on him until he's coated and caked with Childe's seed.
"Oh," Albedo mutters from somewhere.
"Zhongli, you haven't answered me yet. A womb. Do you have it?" Childe slides himself between Zhongli's legs again. Rubbing his cock slowly on Zhongli's groin and the consultant can only keen deliciously.
"Yes, C-Childe. Yes. For you, yes," Zhongli breathes out.
Childe grins at the answer. "Zhongli, you're so sweet to me. Next time, I'm going to tie you down to my bed, hmm? Fuck you every second of the day and I won't stop even when you beg prettily for it. Going to breed you so good till you're so full with our tiny ones. Your ass will take the shape of my cock, Zhongli. I will make sure of it."
Zhongli squirms on the divan, rubbing his ass on the soft surface. His hole flutters. The thought of something inside him makes Zhongli's mouth water. Yet he doesn't want anything else but Childe’s cock so deep within him until the Harbinger’s balls are touching his ass.
His hands hover to his trousers but Childe quickly stops him. Zhongli whines. "Childe, no, need to touch--"
"No touching. For now, you'll watch me touch myself and come on your face and in your mouth. Remember, this is a punishment." Childe kisses Zhongli softly on the lips.
"Childe--"
"Be good. If you're good, I'll fuck you for weeks without stopping after this. I can do it, Zhongli. You know I can." Childe touches Zhongli's clothed cock and squeezes.
"Ah, C-Childe!"
"Now, that is a pretty sound. Can't wait for the stretch of my cock around your tight little hole?"
"Childe, I - ah ah! - please… Childe, please--"
"Shh. Be good. You'll get your just reward."
Zhongli lets out a long croaked filthy moan. Eyes unseeing.
They’re no longer heedful of another presence in the room.
"Marvelous." Albedo nods sagely.
He smiles as he touches his chin. There's pure joy in Albedo’s eyes as he watches Childe spread Zhongli's legs further apart and grind himself brutally and relentlessly against Zhongli.
"There are so many shapes of love. I suppose even lust is a form of love. Just an untamed one." The painter ponders.
The moans and groans and creaks of the sofa are momentarily ignored by him. Albedo studies his drawing.
It's black and white but the details are carefully and lovingly drawn. Zhongli and Childe look almost alive in his illustration. The emotions are raw and almost palpable. And Albedo is not ashamed to admit that he loves the result even though it's a bit rushed and still unfinished.
He’ll finish it later. Albedo already knows what he wants to add.
"Nngh. Childe, please please, in my mouth--"
"Zhongli, fuck, you're so fucking wet down here and I haven't fucked you yet."
"Well, it's a job well done," Albedo proudly claims. He stands up, merrily gathers his utensils, and leaves the room. Shutting the door behind him. The groans are getting louder and filthier from behind the closed door.
Childe and Zhongli have opened Albedo’s eyes to a new possibility.
--
"Ah, Traveler! Come look at my new project!"
"...Albedo… is that…"
"Indeed, Traveler. My new creation."
"And those are… Childe and Zhongli? Erm, are they, you know. That..."
"Correct. Carefully drawn and polished. Especially mister Zhongli’s rear. Indeed, he has a fine gem hidden underneath. I made sure every detail was applied properly even when this was hastily sketched."
The Traveler looks at Albedo. Albedo smiles kindly at the Traveler. And then Xiao and Paimon enter his studio. A tired Diluc trails behind them.
Albedo's eyes shine upon seeing the red-head.
"What the fuck is that?" Xiao furiously shrieks once his eyes fall on the drawing of Childe and Zhongli neatly tucked on the easel.
"Mister Diluc." Albedo strides towards Diluc, ignoring Xiao's outburst and Paimon's low 'not bad'.
He's met mister Diluc before but this time it's different. Albedo is no longer a fool. He's been enlightened. Now, Albedo has finally seen the truth.
"Mister Diluc, perchance, would you like to be my model? You may ask your closest partner to join you," Albedo requests.
Diluc squints. "What?"
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