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Zhongli rubs his cheek into Childe’s shoulder, and Childe grits his teeth.
Of all the ways he’s hoped to get close to Zhongli? Yeah, this isn’t it. If Zhongli were sober and draped all over him, it’d be different. If Zhongli were sober, it’d be different. But Zhongli is very much not sober, and Childe is very much suffering.
Strong thighs beneath his hands. Well-muscled arms draped over his shoulders. Zhongli’s body is battle-hardened and ready, rubbing against Childe’s back. Is it his imagination, or is Zhongli—? No. He’s not going to entertain even the fraction of the thought that Zhongli might be hard. And if he is, it’s the alcohol, surely.
Surely.
Zhongli relies on some liquid courage to proposition Childe.
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Bookmark Notes:
crying screaming shaking the NEED