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Morax had been tired.
All archons have been summoned upon the sacred grounds of Celestia to provide once again their services in the name of the higher principle. As their designated roles commanded. Unrest was slowly brewing between his fellow companions during their staying away from their respective nations and though Morax missed dearly the home he had found between the people of Liyue and wished nothing more than to return to his rightful place, under the auburn sky of his homeland, he wasn’t going to neglect his responsibilities. As his position of the archon of contracts demanded he was going to fulfill his duties with the utmost care.
That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t awfully tired.
The man sighed as he hastily grabbed yet another file from the oversized pile that towered over him – an exceptional feat considering his build that not only surpassed the size of a human, but most archons and gods as well – and proceeded to squint at it with a ferocity that would make a mountain cower.
Instead the illegible handwriting stared back at him with an audacious display of mockery.
Or at least that’s what Morax’s sleep reduced mind thought.
It had been days since he’s locked himself in his room, drowning in paperwork as he waited for orders from the higher ups to arrive. The typical welcoming festivities seemed to have taken longer than usual, or necessary in Morax’s not-so-humble opinion, and despite his sense of duty that would normally oblige him to indulge in the arduous ceremonies out of respect for their hosts, his sense of logic seemed to have prevailed – along with his sense of sanity.
Unlike the rest of the dull-minded archons, he had responsibilities to attend to. Liyue wasn’t going to build itself and despite all the respect he could muster for his eternal companions – that admittedly ranged from high to non-existent depending on the god he was referring to – he doubted the workload of the archon of love or the archon of freedom was heavy.
He raised from his seat with an exaggerated movement that nearly sent the chair tumbling, and headed towards the human sized candlesticks that were placed in each side of his desk, annoyed at the lack of light as the sun slipped behind the never ending hills of Celestia. In his dragon form it would take no effort to light a fire, in fact it would take no effort to set the whole harbor on fire with a single puff if he so desired, but in his current human-like form he would have to reside to Murata’s gift, a pyro device able to generate fire even between the non-blessed.
Morax was still getting used to his new form. It always took a while to get familiar with a new body after all. Upon glancing at the reflection of the golden candlestick he caught sight of golden horns popping out of brown locks and he left a tired sigh as his hand pinched at the bridge of his nose. His original form was slipping and he didn’t need to stare back at the golden surface to know his teeth and tongue must have taken their familiar serpent-like form.
He could really use a break.
The unnerving sound of perpetual frantic knocking brought him out of his thoughts, as Morax mentally braced himself for the likeliness of an all-too-familiar headache barging in.
“Who is it?”, the god inquired sternly, his eyes locking with the wooden door as if he could somehow see the unwelcome intruder through the cracks of the wood. It didn’t take long before he got his answer.
“Ehm… it’s me… Barbatos.”, the god clarified, before Morax heard the distinct clicking sound of the golden doorknob twisting and the god walking in his room, or to be more specific, his cave, with light footsteps.
People said that in the presence of the god of freedom, they could feel a refreshing breeze liberating them from the shackles of their worries and pushing them to strive towards their ambitions. As if a weight was being lifted from their chest and they could once again breathe, freed from a suffocating sensation they didn’t know they had.
Morax begged to disagree.
The grumpy god resumed his later task of lightening up the candles, completely ignoring the fellow archon’s presence until silence settled between them. Morax cocked an eyebrow at Barbatos’s unfamiliar but much welcome quietness. Morax had learnt through experience, a painfully long experience, that the obnoxious archon of anemo - that never ceased to find new ways to annoy him with his blatant disrespect and his blasphemous sense of humor – lacked the ability to remain quiet for more than two consecutive seconds. Even throughout meetings of the highest importance, Barbatos wasn’t able to keep himself from spitting an inappropriate joke or a hearty laughter at any given occasion.
“Sorry to interrupt. I know you’ve been busy with archon work and stuff.”, Barbatos mumbled, to which Morax inwardly gawked and outwardly frowned, a minimal shift in his resting scowling expression that could easily go unperceived, as he pondered on the archon’s words.
Did Barbatos just apologize?
As curiosity overtook him, at the unexpected conversation-starter, Morax turned back and took in the appearance of the god for the first time since he’s entered the room. And honestly he wasn’t surprised.
“You’re drunk. How original.”, he scoffed, as he crossed his hands over his bare chest, staring at Barbatos’s evident blush, accompanied by half-lidded eyes that struggled to focus on him, with an unamused expression.
“For once I’m actually not.”, the god attempted to joke, although the laughter died in his throat, and came out more pitiful and tense.
Morax would be unnerved if he wasn’t intrigued. Barbatos stared back at him, prolonging the uncomfortable silence for more than necessary, before he managed a hesitant step and a coy smile.
Hesitancy felt odd on the god of recklessness.
“I played a prank at the Tsaritsa. It was more of a harmless joke, but well…”, his voice drifted and so did his gaze that shifted to the walls of the room before settling on the floor. Morax caught the way the archon rubbed his palms against his bare thighs, as if to wipe off his sweat, Barbatos’s telltale sign of nervousness.
“I’m guessing she didn’t take it as such.”
Morax was familiar with Barbatos’s infamous pranks and though the cryo archon had seemed to develop some sort of resistance to the anemo god’s vulgar sense of humor, an attribute crafted through eons of exposure to the menace that consisted of Barbatos, it seemed that the god in question has pushed his luck too far for the poor girl to get aggravated.
“Y-yeah. S-she definitely went too far with her prank in retaliation though.”, Barbatos stammered, as he restlessly shifted his weight from one leg to another, bringing his hands close to his core to pick at his nails. A probably newly acquired habit Morax didn’t recognize, the same way he didn’t recognize the man that was standing in front of him.
Morax was pretty sure that throughout the millennia of his existence he’s never heard Barbatos stutter.
He was being so out of character today, the geo archon was getting worried.
“I-it’s so hot in here.”, Barbatos huffed in a painful way that alerted Morax’s senses. The quiver of his voice made his frown deepen as he inspected the god for any signs of injury with a quick eye scan before meeting his gaze again. He doubted the cryo goddess would have gone that far, but he couldn’t shake the sense of struggle that laced in his voice. Barbatos must have caught on it because he fidgeted like some sort of foolish girl, and averted his gaze on the floor.
Morax didn’t know what to think of the way his blush deepened from a faint pink to a vibrant red.
“The heat is unbearable.”, Barbatos smiled awkwardly as he brought a hand to brush at his unruly hair gaining a quizzical look from Morax.
“I’m afraid I don’t under-”
And then Morax finally really took in his appearance.
The way his wings closed in on his body, as if he was trying to hide.
The way his unfocused lewd eyes pinned him, as if he was pleading for mercy.
The way his hands couldn’t stay still for more than a moment.
The way his thighs rubbed violently against one another and against his-
“Oh.”
Another session of uncomfortable silence settled as Morax stared dumbfoundedly at the aroused god, realization finally sinking in.
---
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Forget it.”, Barbatos blurted out after he combusted in a ridiculous crimson color, as shame stretched through his features and he turned towards the exit, sprinting in a child-like manner that certainly didn’t befit a god of his caliber.
He had almost reached the doorknob, panting like he had just flown from Mondstadt to Snezhnaya out of overexertion or arousal, he didn’t know, before he abruptly halted, as he was pulled back by strong hands tugging against his arm.
His face snapped back at the unexpected shift in momentum in such a speed that he would have certainly toppled over if it wasn’t for Morax’s hands steadying him. His turquoise eyes widened at the unexpected proximity, before settling anywhere else but Zhongli’s golden gaze. Before he had the chance to break the awkwardness of the situation, Morax removed his hands and spewed what could only be considered a command with an unreadable expression.
“Sit.”
After a moment of hesitancy and another spent inspecting the room than resembled more of a sacrificial temple than an actual residence, Barbatos settled on the remotely closest option of a seat he could find.
A fucking rock.
The moment his back brushed against the rough surface of the mass, he flinched at the roughness of the material. His current form didn’t leave much to the imagination and he could practically feel the soft skin of his thighs and back getting irritated.
He tried not to think of the way his lower part craved to be rubbed against the hard surface of the rock.
He failed.
Morax had always been tall compared to Barbatos’s boyish form, not to mention the size difference between the two of them when it came to their original forms. But when he towered in front of his seated form, while -quite literally- looking down at him with those glowing sharp judgmental eyes all that Barbatos could think of was how huge he was, as he nervously gulped down the lump forming on his throat.
Morax crouched in front of him to meet his height -although the god of geo still exceeded him a few inches- all the while never breaking eye contact with him and Barbatos was lost in a trance of gold and brown. Despite the creepiness of the silence that the god would normally jump to fill in, the tension of Morax’s gaze left him speechless.
It made his insides clench in anticipation.
When the god’s eyes finally drifted away, Barbatos thought he could breathe again, only for his breath to hitch the moment golden orbs landed on his undergarment. He didn’t have time to react before Morax’s rough hand cupped the soft cloth before pressing tenderly at the source of his arousal.
And Barbatos proceeded to moan.
He fucking moaned simply at having a hand pressed against him!
It was brief and muffled, but given the proximity Morax must have certainly caught it and all Barbatos could do was mentally face palm and let his blush deepen even further, if that was humanly possible. He opened his mouth, prepared to make a joke out of it to lighten the mood, or hopefully save him some face, although he had the suspicion they were past that state, when the god in question retracted his hand as if burned.
Barbatos resisted the urge to pout, at Morax’s disproportionate reaction, before an expression of bafflement settled on his face upon seeing the god’s surprise painted in his gaping.
“You don’t have a…”, Morax’s voice trailed, as his usual emotionless façade settled back on his face, quickly managing to suppress his initial reaction. Barbatos looked at him confusedly before it finally clicked.
“Oh yes I am female down there.”, the god smiled smugly, finding his all-too-familiar comfort into teasing the old man.
“I guess I forgot to tell you.”, he chirped and flashed Morax a toothy smile to which the other simply narrowed his eyes. Barbatos wasn’t lying when he said he’d forgotten, although with Morax’s unnerving silent treatment, thoughts of doubt started flooding his brain. He took pride in his form, he had crafted it himself after all, but he’d never felt so… exposed.
“Barbatos-”
“Could you call me Venti?”, the god asked hopefully.
They had had a similar conversation in the past, the specifications of where and when escaping him at the moment, about bestowing themselves new names and although it had merely been part of Barbatos’s joking attempts, the idea had grown on him. And if they were going to do this- If Morax was to see him for who he really was, he might as well see his true self.
“Venti.” Morax tried the sound of it, before he continued, “Are you sure about this?”
And Venti gaped at him, before a smile tugged at his lips. A genuine one.
“Yes.”
He made sure to look right into Morax as he answered and the god, who foolishly thought he was so good at masking his concern, graced him with a smile. Well it was more of a momentary cease of his continuous tight lipped-resting-scowling-face but it still counted at one.
Venti expected a kiss, or maybe a touch or a word. Correction. Venti craved for any of those things. Instead Morax rose to his feet and stepped towards his office. He lifted the oversized chair with astonishing ease and placed it opposite to Venti’s perplexed expression, letting it fall on the wooden tiles with a loud thud.
“Ehm… what are you doing?”
Morax proceeded to completely ignore him as he gracefully plopped into the chair, propping his chin against his hand and crossing his legs in a way that made the naked part of his outfit -the highlight of his outfit in Venti’s opinion- lean back invitingly. He stared at him for a couple of moments as a foxy smile stretched along his face. Venti had never seen him smiling like that.
“Touch yourself.”
The anemo archon shuddered at the depth of his voice, and though Morax hadn’t raised his tone in the slightest, he sounded more commanding than any cries could ever be. And though his words didn’t leave room for doubt, Venti felt a new wave of warmth dusting his cheeks and neck as he frowned at him.
“I didn’t-”
“You asked for my help.”, Morax almost whispered, his smile growing wider. Venti was about to protest when the god’s eyes narrowed at him in a way that screamed of threat.
“Now do as I say.”, he commanded.
Venti left a shaky exhale as his heart rhythm picked up. The idea of Morax watching him as he masturbated making him shiver with nervousness. He didn’t trust his voice not to stutter and the finality of the archon’s voice was hard to ignore even for him, so he hesitantly placed his fingers on the delicate fabric of his cloth and let it slid down the smooth skin of his legs in a torturously slow speed.
He spared a brief glance to his audience and he immediately came to regret it, because Morax’s gaze bored into him in a creepy way that somehow managed to stimulate him even further. His knees slammed against each other reflexively, feeling overwhelmed by the irritating throbbing that demanded to be released, before Morax gave him a pointed look.
Venti had to push his legs open with the help of his hands because he could feel himself slowly getting paralyzed as the overwhelming feeling of anxiety swallowed him whole. He leaned against the hard surface of the rock and opted to stare at the ceiling to save himself from further embarrassment. The pain of his tender wings getting scratched by his poor choice of seat served for a good distraction but as he lowered his finger down his sensitive spot he felt his hand getting drenched from the wetness of his lower lips.
He gently rubbed his finger around his clit, trying to find the source of his arousal and it didn’t take long before he finally did. His legs shuddered and his breath hitched as he slowly traced his hands at the soft spot. And as his fingers traced soft circles, he moaned.
A deep, shaky moan.
He could feel his arousal dripping from his stomach as he continued with slow movements and when he hit it again, his back arched and a low whimper escaped his lips. He didn’t give a shit whether his head bumped against the rock cause at that moment all he could feel was his finger sending shivers down his spine.
He sat up, completely ignoring Morax’s presence as he lowered his hand to cup his lower lips, tracing them softly before inserting two inside of him. He resisted the urge to flinch at the cold sensation and left a shaky exhale before he started to make good work of them. Slowly but steadily he started pumping his slender fingers deeper and deeper inside of him, feeling himself clench around them with every push. He could feel it slowly building up inside of him and he heaved under his own touch, struggling to suppress the urge to moan.
“Morax…”, he whimpered pathetically, as he imagined the god’s voluptuous cock thrusting inside of him.
“Zhongli.”, the god corrected, his voice coming out more wavering than earlier, though Venti was too preoccupied to notice, his hands full with pleasuring himself. All he could do was obediently take the correction as he thrusted a third finger inside of him.
“Zhongli!”, he groaned loudly, pushing and pulling his hips against his fingers to produce most friction.
In an attempt to steady himself and push away the growing sense of dizziness, kindly provided by his over stimulation, he gripped the edge of the rock, positioning himself in the proper angle to press the sensitive spot inside of him, while picking up the pace. Uncontrollable moans escaped his mouth as his pace grew quicker, his body tightening around his hand in a suffocating way. He could feel himself climaxing.
“Zhongli.”, he moaned his name like a prayer, feeling himself ready to cum, his legs turning jelly-like as he finally neared the point of releasing the build-up pressure that pounded against him when his hand was suddenly ripped from his pussy.
His eyes snapped open as he jerked up, feeling the sensation of warm pleasure escaping his grasp, as the earlier throbbing sensation came back aggravated. He didn’t even manage to conceal his frustration at the sudden feeling of emptiness inside of him, grunting under his breath, as he grinded his pussy hardly against the bumpy rock, desperately trying find some sort of satisfaction from the contact.
Zhongli’s rough hands pulled him until he was standing on his feet, any sort of satisfaction completely lost.
“What was that for? I was about to cum!”, Venti whined at the god who had the audacity to interrupt him when he was the one who had pretty much ordered him to pleasure himself in the first place, only for him to stop him as he was about to release. Indignation surged through his veins, until Zhongli’s appearance finally settled.
The way he hungrily stared at him like a predator glaring at his prey.
The way he thirstily slid his serpent-like tongue across his lips.
The way he gripped at Venti with strong hands that tightened around his arms.
The way his cock erected-
“Turn over.”, Zhongli’s voice slightly wavered, brimming with lust and desperation, though the message was crystal clear.
A sly smile graced Venti’s features as he stared at the source of his entertainment. He was about to tease the hell out of the god, probably saying something about how he was as hard as a rock, before laughing shamelessly in his face. Maybe he’d crack a joke or two on how the well composed archon that had always carried himself with such elegance, couldn’t contain his dick at the sight of him.
But Venti didn’t get the chance.
Because without a moment of hesitation the sturdy hands that grounded him pushed him on the floor with an abrupt movement that made him yelp in surprise. Zhongli climbed on top of him, towering over on all four, before flipping him over with a violent push that could only be described as animalistic. Venti whined as a pang of pain rushed through his knees out of the force of the impact, but as he rose his back in order to inspect the damage he was violently pushed back down by a hand that gripped the nape of his neck in a suffocating way.
Venti didn’t find it the least bit entertaining, as he tried to claw out of Zhongli’s grasp, only for the god to press harder, sharp nails digging into the porcelain alabaster skin of his neck.
And as the sensation of suffocation registered in his body, making him squirm under Zhongli’s weight, he could feel an overwhelming knot of fear and helplessness bumbling at his throat.
Or it could simply be Zhongli’s pressing fingers, he wasn’t completely sure.
And then the damn throbbing feeling between his legs sprung, intensifying the more Zhongli’s grip around his neck tightened.
This was sick.
He felt out of control of his own body as his lower part practically spasmed uncontrollably, demanding to be pleasured. Venti bit his lips, trying desperately to suppress the urge of shoving his fingers inside him and pound them until he collapsed. His thighs bumped against one another as he tried to rub the pressing spot with outmost discretion.
But Zhongli still noticed, because his grip slackened, allowing Venti to finally breathe in after what felt like years. Venti coughed as his hands traced down his neck at what was certainly going to be an ugly bruise by tomorrow, struggling to catch his breathe.
“What the hell was that?”, he managed once his breathing had calmed down, not daring to turn back, mindful of the irritation on his neck.
“Helping.”, Zhongli breathed, sounding as out of breath as Venti, as if it was his throat that was being choked.
“That’s not what I meant when I asked for help.”
“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?”, Zhongli muttered lowly into his ear and Venti could practically feel his breath brushing against his neck like a warm summer breeze. It made his blood roar and his skin shiver but that was nothing compared to what it did to his pussy.
Before Venti had the chance to respond, a cold hand slid through his open thighs and pressed gently against his lower spot, making his breath hitch in his throat. Zhongli didn’t make an attempt to push them inside, instead he tugged lightly at the external part of his lips.
And then Venti’s body did the worse thing he could possibly have done. It pressed back against Zhongli’s fingers trying to fuck on them, like a damned traitor. Venti wondered how he’d ever managed to face the man again, cause there was no way he wasn’t going to be reminded of this occasion, that currently ranked among the most embarrassing moments of his life, without bursting in shame.
Unexpectedly, Zhongli pulled his hand back instead of taking advantage of his body’s lack of judgement and though a part of Venti was thankful about it, there was another that screamed at him to grab at the man’s hand and guide it back at its position.
He should have gotten drunk before coming here.
“Doesn’t seem like that to me.”, Zhongli stated and though Venti couldn’t see him, he could practically hear him smiling, before a licking sound registered. A painfully slow and stimulating sound that made Venti fantasize about Zhongli eating him with that slick ridiculously long tongue of his. The shuffling sound of clothes echoed in the silent room, but it took a moment too long for Venti to understand what Zhongli was planning on.
A fatal delay.
“Coming here was a mistake.”, the man whispered menacingly, before Venti felt something hard pressing against the tender skin of his butt cheeks.
He didn’t get another warning as Zhongli rammed his dick inside of him.
“Fuck!”, Venti gasped painfully, as he jerked up, only for Zhongli’s rough hands to slam him back on the floor.
Tears gathered at the edge of his stinging eyes, his vision clouded by blurriness, as Zhongli pulled back slightly, providing for a brief moment of relief, before he pounded his hips against Venti’s hips, pushing his cock deeper than Venti thought was possible.
“Z-zhongli I c-can’t.”, Venti pleaded, before Zhongli repeated the movement, this time thrusting harder and continuing to pound against his hips. Venti felt like he would throw up.
“I-it’s too big.”, he gasped as his nails dugged into the hard wood of the floor, before settling for the soft skin of his palm. He could feel his blood getting under his nails as Zhongli’s hands grabbed Venti’s open thighs, locking them in a bruising grip, before violently pulling Venti’s hips towards his dick, his butt cheeks colliding with his own hips with a pumping noise, as Venti took all of him.
Venti cried in pain, feeling himself stretching in an alarming way, as Zhongli kept pushing and pulling at his hips, his pace growing quicker than before.
“Y-you’re so damn t-tight.”, Zhongli grunted as Venti’s walls squeezed at him, clenching uncomfortably around his dick with every thrust, a bittersweet sensation that clouded his senses.
Venti’s thighs were released and Zhongli’s pounding slowed down, allowing him to breathe, before he felt a familiar coldness rubbing against his cunt. Venti’s back shot up, this time without an obstacle as he shifted to his knees, trying to shake Zhongli’s hand of off him, but the moment his head rose, he felt an overwhelming sensation of dizziness settle and he wobbled, before steady hands secured his waist
“Is it my dick or the choking that is getting you wet?”, Zhongli challenged with a deep voice that sent a surge of electricity through his body, making his throbbing worsen, before Venti turned his head to face the man.
Golden glowing orbs locked with his puffed up turquoise ones and Zhongli trailed a hand across Venti’s cheek to wipe out a stray tear that had managed to escape. Venti was petrified by Zhongli’s gaze and he spared a glance at his matching glowing hair to affirm his suspicions.
Morax has been using the power of geo.
The anemo god had only witnessed Morax’s power during battles. When they were sent to do the bidding of Celestia, be that providing protection for the innocent people in Teyvat from monsters and destruction or committing genocide of ancient civilizations in the name of a higher principle.
He’s never seen him use it on anyone else up until today and though it explained the pain that still lingered where Zhongli had fucked him, it did nothing to ease his growing fear.
However, when Zhongli’s breathtaking eyes trailed to Venti’s mouth, before returning to his blue orbs, giving him the time to pull back as he leaned into him, all that Venti could think of was how alluring the man was. When his lips parted to welcome Zhongli’s, he felt his tongue sliding in his mouth, twisting satisfyingly, almost gently, in a way that didn’t overwhelm him, but instead made him crave for his touch.
And Venti didn’t need to ask for it, since Zhongli’s hand slowly slid from the small of his waist to the lower part of his stomach.
Zhongli’s tongue pulled back and their mouths parted, leaving Venti with a feeling of emptiness, before the archon, ignoring his voice of reason along with every red flag, leaned into him and connected their lips into another passionate kiss. Zhongli kissed back just as passionately as Venti brought a hand to cup his lover’s face when he felt a trained thumb rubbing against his clit.
Venti gasped in Zhongli’s mouth, as the god traced slowly his finger in circles of pleasure, making him moan his name. Zhongli shifted slightly in order to position himself in a better angle, before he allowed a finger to enter inside of him. His single finger was larger than two of Venti’s combined, but as Zhongli pumped slowly and steadily inside of him with such caution and care, Venti felt nothing but pleasure, as he grinded his hips in order to allow him to sink deeper.
Venti leaned against Zhongli’s sweaty chest, indicating him to go faster to which the man quickly complied while adding a second finger. Venti curled perfectly against them, as if they were made to touch him, the blissful sensation of satisfaction paralyzing his limbs, as Zhongli brushed against his cervix.
Venti was getting drunk by the way Zhongli touched him and he couldn’t get enough of it, feeling himself building up to the moment of release, until the man behind him scoffed.
“Disgusting.”
In his delirious state, Venti didn’t have time to react before Zhongli thrusted his cock inside of him once again.
---
Zhongli grunted as he slowly pounded against Venti’s hips, while his fingers dived deeper into his cunt.
He had a reputation of going berserk when striding into battles, corpses piling up all over the battlefield and blood coating his skin. There was an interesting rumor going around recently about him collecting the eyeballs of his victims as token. It was nothing more than baseless gossip of his beaten enemies, although at times he did feel tempted to rip the eyes of those rambling fools out of their sockets.
He’s never used geo energy in such occasion. The power was better suited for battled, inflicting pain rather than pleasure. He knew all that. Yet his sense of reason had abandoned him the moment Venti had moaned his name.
Zhongli.
Not Morax.
Not Rex Lapis.
Not the Geo Archon.
Just Zhongli.
Watching Venti obeying his orders as he shamefully pleasured himself had made him lose complete control. The small frame of the anemo archon- No. Venti, along with his lewd squeals of satisfaction made him look so fragile and submissive.
And all Zhongli could think was how he’d love to break him.
In a twisted way, that bordered blasphemy, watching Venti masturbate has been the most holly thing he’s witnessed over the years. And as the air of divinity grew, so did his boner, tugging frustratingly against the cloth of his pants. He had strived to remain in control, pushing down the desire to tie Venti to the ground and fuck him until he collapsed.
It obviously didn’t work.
“I-it’s too much…”, Venti pleaded and instead of slowing down, Zhongli pushed harder, pumping both his fingers and his cock in perfect synchronization. Venti gasped, a noise that made Zhongli even harder without the need of geo, before his wobbly legs shook under the exhaustion of penetration.
“And yet you still like it.”, Zhongli’s voice wavered, his breathing coming out labored and sharp and his hair sticking at his muscly back as he leaned towards Venti.
The god almost flinched in surprise, as Zhongli’s teeth bit into his shoulder, sucking the tender skin, as Venti continued to fuss. He kept marking his lover all over his back when his felt Venti’s back falling against his chest.
“I t-think I’m going to c-cum.”, he mumbled joyfully, before Zhongli added a third finger, shoving it in a purposefully painful way that made Venti jolt up and groan, only for his dick to pound harder and quicker, as he slowly felt the pressure building up inside of him. Venti fell on all four by the mere force of Zhongli’s violent thrust, as he begged of him to slow down.
“You don’t get to cum until I do.”, he warned.
“Or else I will stop being so gentle with you.”
Zhongli caught an expression of dread flashing through Venti’s features, understanding all too well the implications of his words, like a submissive puppy. A smug smile stretched across his face as a sadistic idea popped into his mind. He slowly pulled back both his hand and his dick, trying his best to ignore the inner urge to thrust him again, although the throbbing sensation that accompanied the lack of friction made him groan under his breath.
“Z-zhongli…?”, Venti asked and though Zhongli was practically next to him, his growing annoyance refused for the wavering voice to register.
Venti was too late to react when Zhongli’s hand lowered him back to the floor, this time with his back against the wooden tiles and climbed on top of him. An expression of perplexion graced Venti’s features, an expression that quickly morphed into astonishment as he set his widened eyes at Zhongli’s erected and thick penis for the first time. And though the movement was almost imperceptible, a failed attempt to hide it from Zhongli, Venti trembled under the prospect of anything the god had in mind.
From this point of view, Venti looked so tasty, all red and irritated, messy and tired, Zhongli felt tempted to eat him out, only to get a better taste of the sample he’d had earlier, but instead he climbed on top of Venti, and let his cock grind against his swollen lips, before pushing it inside of him.
“This is the kind of help you’ve wanted since the beginning isn’t it?”, Zhongli smiled as Venti gasped, struggling to take in his dick. Zhongli pounded roughly inside of him, fucking him animals in the wilderness, uncaring of the way Venti struggled to breath in overstimulation.
After stretching it for so long with his fingers, Venti’s cunt was all wet and warm, allowing him to go deeper and harder until Zhongli was out of breath.
“P-please I-I can’t… k-keep it…”, Venti whimpered, his half lidded eyes and his slurred tone indicating he was struggling to contain himself, if his pleading words weren’t enough to convey the message.
The pounding had grown so quick, even Zhongli struggled to follow as a deep moan left him and he threw his head back, as his hands pulled Venti’s hips closer, burying himself deeper and deeper, filtering out Venti's cries, that occasionally shifted to pleads, until all he could hear was the satisfying sound of bodies pumping against one another. He relished in the way Venti's nails teared his back, the smell of his blood mixing perfectly with the smell of sex that suffocated his senses and fed his state of frenzy.
Venti took him in so well that he could feel his orgasm bursting, flooding his senses and washing over his body as he finally released.
Hot spurts of cum flooded Venti, as Zhongli emptied his load inside of him, groaning as he filled him up. The raveged god's back arched as he was finally allowed to release the cum he was holding off for all this time, a pained gasp escaping his lips. And when Zhongli pulled out of him, after a moment too long for comfort, all there was left of Venti was a bruised quivering heaving mess of a god, the exhaustion from the multiple penetrations taking a toll on his body. To the point where it denied to move from its position, sprawled on Zhongli’s floor.
There were no intimate touches befitting of lovers saying goodbye, no words of praise and love, no smiles of validation and concern as Zhongli rose to his feet and made his way towards his desk. Because there weren't lovers and after today they certainly wouldn't be calling themselves friends. Checking on Venti from his peripheral vision, Zhongli was welcomed by the sight of the naked god stretched across his floor, as he still managed to catch his breath, a tempting view that made Zhongli stiffen, his fist deciding between clenching and unclenching, despite the fact that he had just cum.
He doubted he would be able to leave the room for the next couple of hours, in this state, drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness.
In fact, he doubted he’d be able to walk properly for the whole week, judging by the already forming bruises.
He felt an ounce of regret. A feeling he managed to silence down surprisingly quickly at the arousing memory of Venti's melodic moaning forming his name.
“Not a word to anyone about this.”
Zhongli warned, a wave of exhaustion slipping into his voice, and although he’d love to take a break before resuming his tasks, he guessed putting his cock inside Venti qualified as a breather.
An intense, satisfying breather.
Venti hummed in acknowledgment as he turned to his side, giving to Zhongli a full display of his swollen ass.
Zhongli averted his eyes before his ferocious side had the time to jump at the defenseless god that laid suggestively on his floor and devour him. Instead, he coughed into his hand, a discreet attempt of clearing his mind, before he took hold of the latest contract he was working with before Venti had decided to barge in and request his assistance.
And without Venti's deafening moans filling his mind and the blinding sensation of his cock inside of him, he could only sigh in relief at their immense luck of not having been caught. They weren't exactly being quiet anyway. Although if he was being honest with himself he couldn't find it in himself to worry one bit about Venti’s big mouth rambling about their little predicament.
If he did he swore he’d find an alternative use for it and he already had something not-so-innocent in mind.
And though Venti wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, Zhongli was under the impression that the god didn't need to be told to know of the consequences of such an action.
But above else, Zhongli was always eager to help a friend in need.