Chapter Text
Squatting down, Childe took a long, deep breath. He held it in his lungs, forcing his body to work on limited oxygen as his heart continued to thrash wildly inside his chest. God, how long has it been since this has happened – what is wrong with me? A jagged strip of lighting streaked through the purple-hued sky. Somewhere in the distance, it crashed against the earth and the clouds above them rumbled ominously.
A part of him wished it would strike him instead.
He rubbed at his eyes, desperately trying to ease the aching pains gathering in the corners of his sclera. His fingers trembled, unnerving themselves as he tried to flex the muscles within them and regain some control over the stiff limbs. He gasped – quietly wheezing the little air he had left. Again and again, Childe tried to reinflate himself, but his lungs refused. The taste of bile and cheap wine lingered in the back of his throat – burning, tearing, scratching. Childe swallowed it and gagged on the way it remained caught in the back of his throat.
Gods, he should have never drank.
His heart pounded against his ribs – each time it throbbed, his bones ached like they were seconds from crumbling.
“And, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Sharp and unkind. A distinctive Mondstatian accent. Great. Of course, this witch found me. Childe glared up at Rosalyne and held back the urge to scream. Rosalyne – like some variant of vampiric phantom – seemed to have a keen sense of suffering, and, most days, Childe was convinced she fed off it.
“Nothing. I’m just taking a break – you’ve given me enough paperwork to fill a Sumerian library.”
A perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched upwards and Rosalyne crossed her arms over her chest, “Paperwork doesn’t make you look like a half-dead crack addict.”
“Working with you has that effect.”
Childe rose back onto his feet, wincing slightly as his knees popped and ached. He had spent days bent across paperwork, meaningless piles of drab that Rosalyne had dumped on his desk and demanded him to manage. Foreign correspondence. National reports. Resource redistribution. Childe had been reduced to a glorified secretary, scrambling to find ways to fund Signora’s campaign against the Shogun.
In a way, it had been relieving for a bit.
The chance to be more than a sex doll at Pantalone’s parties or an unwilling assistant to Dottore’s experiments felt nice. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Childe was partially thankful that Rosalyne saw him as more than a bargaining chip. Or pretended to at least.
“You look like shit, Ajax.”
He frowned. Huffing, he looked her over – a long, equally scathing glance, which quickly softened in momentary surprise. Rosalyne seemed normal. Human, even. Her hair was tousled and messy, loosely falling over her shoulder and into her face. In the absence of her normal, meticulous hairclips, strands of light, blonde hair were frizzy and stuck in various directions. The lightest purple discoloration was visible beneath her eyes, and her makeup had been removed to reveal the slightest sketch of wrinkles beneath them and across her cheeks. Rosaylne was draped in an oversized beige sweater – one that engulfed her in a way that looked borderline ridiculous. Childe guessed it had belonged to her husband. It was the only way he could explain how comfortable she seemed in it, despite the frayed ends of the sleeves and the small holes along the bottom.
In the oddest way, Rosalyne looked much older than Childe had ever seen, and there was something disturbingly comfortable about the way she sighed and leaned against the wall beside him.
“Have you been drinking?”
Her voice was soft, deep, and distant. There was a somber to it, and Childe couldn’t help but answer her honestly, “Have you been smoking?”
They glanced at each other. A silent understanding passed between them. Sighing, Rosalyne reached into her pocket, hidden beneath the sweater, and pulled out a cigarette. The quick snap of her fingers lit a small flame, which licked at the tip of her index finger as the cigarette began to burn. She took a long drag of it – her head tilting back and her eyes closing as she held the smoke for a moment, then let the thin, wispy trail escape from her.
She held it out to him.
A peace offering, of sorts.
Ajax took it and mirrored her motion. He felt his heart easing in his chest – the pain dissipating as the chemicals worked their way through his lungs, “Thanks.”
They remained there. Quiet, except for the whispered noise of breaths as they traded the cigarette between them. Ahead, the storm clouds continued to gather, bustling together as the endless symphony of thunder rumbled across every dark inch of Inazuma. When lightning finally cracked against the ground, the ghoulish light ignited the entire sky and, for a brief second, everything was visible. Then, it vanished again, swallowed whole by the infinite gloom.
God, this place looks so miserable.
Childe shifted on his feet – he watched Rosalyne from the corners of his eyes. With distant, glazed eyes, she watched the world around them alternate between light and dark. He thought, for a moment, that there was something vulnerable in the way she frowned. Even though he tried, he couldn’t hate her – not at that moment at least. Even with the memories of Liyue fresh in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to accuse or provoke her.
Instead, he took the fresh cigarette from between his fingers and crushed the old one beneath his shoe.
He waited for the smoke to ease the tension in his fingers before he asked, “Why did you bring me with you?”
Rosalyne huffed and shook her head, “I was wondering when you’d ask. I didn’t do it out of love or pity if that’s what you’re worried about. Liyue was your disaster, and I’m not to blame for your fuck-ups.”
“I figured that much. If someone told me you felt sorry for me, I’d assume Dottore finally figured out a way to clone you.”
“He’s a prick.”
Childe laughed, coughing as the fresh air fought the smoke for dominance in his lungs. He couldn’t help but smile as he glanced over and saw the deep, irritated scowl on Rosalyne’s face. Her eyes flared with an unspoken hatred, a deep burning disgust that made her nose wrinkle as if someone had driven by with a cart full of week-old cow shit. He couldn’t blame her – Childe was certain no one except Dottore loved Dottore.
“Trust no one.”
“What?”
Rosaylne sighed, “You asked why I decided to take you – it’s a learning experience. Trust no one and work, the world doesn’t care about your fucking tragedies. You’re no use to any of us stuck in Snezhnaya, drinking yourself to death and playing prostitute for Pantalone. The world will always move on without you, whether you like it or not. You’re better off dead if you aren’t going to move with it.”
Well, that’s grim.
Childe frowned, but he kept quiet. There was a weight to her words, and Childe knew better than to argue. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. So, they stood in silence. The wind blew through their hair, the promise of rain heavy in the atmosphere. Smoke slithered up into the air, traveling away from the cigarette passed between them. Rosalyne’s fingers were cold as they brushed against his knuckles.
“Do you want to fuck, Ajax?”
Rosalyne’s face was unreadable. Behind the glint of her eyes, there was only an infinite pool of exhaustion. Dull irises of silver. She didn’t smile as she spoke. Or try to touch him. The distance between them remained. Comfortable. Childe appreciated it. Without the pretense of false kindness or empty words, there was only an invitation.
“Sure.”
He let her have the final drag of the cigarette and watched as her shoes smothered it against the ground, grinding the burnt tobacco and filter into pulverized ash. Maybe he was a fool for accepting, but Childe figured there were worse decisions. There was safety in the promise of nothing – sex without any hope of intimacy or honey-coated lies. A simple exchange.
Childe could make it work – he was never meant to be someone’s lover, anyway.
God, he was a mess.
Eyes wide, Childe chewed at the skin of his bottom lip – the gears turning fast in his head as he stared at the man ahead of him. A naked man. Fully naked. Holy shit. Childe felt his stomach clawing its way up his throat. Intricate black tattoos sprawled across the man’s chest and the tangled design of runic letters, volcanos, and dragons encircled his large biceps. Childe’s fingers twitched, spasming as his nerves frayed at the sight of a startling honey-colored eye and long messy locks of black hair.
We get along much better as enemies.
The differences between them were stark, Childe knew. The man’s face was burnt, the leftmost side of his face discolored. Scars littered every inch of his skin, jagged scratches and deep wounds that healed with darkened skin. His left eye was hazy, the irises pale and drained of color. But, the man smiled – an awkward, forced attempt at comfort as he held up his hands.
“I didn’t mean to startle you – I thought –”
God, he sounds just like the Captain.
Childe felt his temples aching as he tried to gather himself. The man across from him blushed, face turning bright red as he babbled something incoherent. His voice was deep, rough, and gravelly as if he had spent hours shouting, or singing at a rock concert. If it weren’t for his stammering and inability to explain himself, Childe would have been convinced it was Capitano.
He relaxed at the thought — undoubtedly, the man was certainly not Capitano.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to –”
His hands drew small, dramatic gestures in the air, completely unaware of his cock hanging freely. Rebellious, Childe’s eyes took glances at it, even as he tried to keep himself focused on understanding the barrage of words flowing from the man’s mouth. He was huge. The member hung proudly, significantly larger than most even in its half-hard state. When Childe realized that a ring had been pierced through the slit, his eyes widened and he cocked his head to the side.
“That’s a nice piercing.”
Nice piercing? You might as well just tell him ‘great cock’ next time, you fucking moron.
Childe choked down the urge to punch himself. He offered the guy a half-smile, hoping it would distract from his embarrassment as he waved dismissively, “I meant that you’re fine. Signora – I mean, Rosalyne told me that there would be someone else. I’m not bothered, you know.”
“Oh.”
An awkward silence stretched between them. Childe sighed, and he looked around the room – taking in the scattered assortment of clothes, shoes, and makeup kits. He cursed Rosalyne in his head, trying to summon her through pure spite as he tried to fight the embarrassment on his face.
“I have nipple piercings too.”
Oh my god.
Childe nodded and glanced up, he saw the puffy dark areolas and the tiny, gold rings sticking out of the dark nubs. His blood thrummed inside his veins, quickening their rush as his attention shifted to the growing tightness in his pants. Don’t look. Rosalyne will be back in a moment.
“You could touch them if it helps – you know, you seem tense.”
It took all of his efforts to avoid having a stroke. Childe scolded himself, humiliated at the way he felt his heart skip a beat and the nerves tingle beneath his skin. He had been with men, plenty of times for work, but the shame he felt taunted him. You freak – you’re so desperate to throw yourself at someone else. When he returned to Snezhnaya, Childe decided he would seek psychological help. His job involved sleeping with people – men and women – frequently, but his brain dislodged itself each time he found himself wanting it. Why did it matter?
He had fucked so many people, it should have been second nature to him.
“Hey, are you okay? I’ll get dressed –”
“No!” Childe laughed, jumping as a hand clasped his shoulder and startled him out of his thought. Quickly, he waved his hands dismissively and smiled, “I mean really, I’m good. It’s been a long day.”
“Are you sure –”
He took a step back – suddenly uncomfortable by the attention. Childe couldn’t stand the way the golden hue of his eye softened, a sudden flicker of concern crossing over his features. God – I can’t stand people pretending they care. It’s bad enough we’re just stuck waiting. He debated leaving. The ache in his temples was worsening, the pain stinging as Childe tried to push away the uncomfortable familiarity of the situation. If he left, he was certain Rosalyne would at least be civil enough to not mention it.
But the guy was so pretty.
Rough, intimidating in a way that Childe couldn’t resist. He towered over Childe, outsizing him in nearly every department, and the way their size difference etched itself into Childe’s brain was simultaneously addictive and disgusting. He needed to figure himself out. Childe could never tell if he wanted to kiss or kill the people he was attracted to.
Attracted.
The word made him want to vomit, but he couldn’t himself from smiling and enjoying the sight of the muscular tanned chest on full display for him. Or, the way the man cocked his head to the side and looked like a scolded puppy. Taking a step forward, he reached out and touched a long, uneven stretch of scar tissue across the man’s chest.
Lightly, Childe traced his finger over it – teasing the skin and hair as he peaked up to gauge the reaction, “This is a cool scar. How’d you get it?”
He received a large, beaming smile, “A greatsword – on fire. It was a flaming greatsword.”
Wait – what?
Before he could ask, the door opened and a familiar voice cooed behind them, “I see you boys are getting along. If you have all the fun without me, I’ll kill you both and set your bodies on fire outside.”
When Childe turned, his mind plummeted – unbelieving. Rosalyne stood completely naked before them. Her hair was thrown around her neck and over her shoulder, obscuring a portion of her breast. Even stripped down to her bare skin, Rosalyne commanded the room. She held herself proudly, unphased by silence.
Rolling her eyes, she stretched her arms and gave them a cocky smirk, “I’m not wasting my time with a fucking staring contest, so the two of you better fucking move.”
Oh fuck.
Ajax gulped.
Dexterous hands made quick work of his clothes. Childe’s tongue busied itself with chasing after the taste of cheap wine and strawberries, eager to lick at every of Rosalyne’s mouth. A fact that didn’t seem to bother her. Lazily strewn across the pillows, her fingers gently carded through Childe’s hair – nails scraping lightly across his scalp and pulling him closer whenever he shifted too far for her taste. Each time he pressed their lips back together, she hummed approvingly and rewarded him with a gentle hand stroking across his chest. Her fingers lingered on his nipple, teasing the nub with light touches before she tugged it in full. Pinched between her fingertips, Childe groaned as he felt it hardened.
“Whatever you did must have been good, his cock is twitching.”
The man – Roland – chuckled behind them and his hand cupped Childe’s cock through his boxers. When his hands squeezed the length, Childe moaned into the wet kiss as Rosalyne's nails scratched down his neck. Oh fuck. This is happening. He tried to focus, desperately trying to keep himself steady as the urge to fuck Roland’s hands drove him mad. His cock felt wet and irate – the fabric of his boxers stuck to his skin as the hands milked him of pre-cum. Childe didn’t know whether to celebrate or scream when he felt a wet tongue run over the bulge, licking him through the barrier.
He realized, quickly, that Roland’s tongue was inhumanely long.
It ran across his entire cock – easily stretching past it and dipping in through his pocket. A flick against the head of Childe’s cock startled him and his eyes fluttered open as his lips parted with a confused noise.
“What the fuck – is his tongue –?”
“I told you, you’re not the only one with a sex appeal,” Rosalyne gripped his chin, turning Childe’s face back to her. He felt his vision blur, momentarily losing its focus as the tongue reached further into his underwear and wrapped fully around the head of his cock.
“Oh god, it’s –”
“That’s it, sweet boy, I told you to just sit back and enjoy it –”
If the words of praise from Rosalyne unnerved him, the feeling dissipated the moment it occurred. Childe reminded himself that Rosalyne had decades of practice to learn to master her vicious personality – but the kindness still startled him as he felt her lips press against his temple. Gently, she kissed at the sweat on his skin.
“If you could half this obedient outside of sex, I might just be more willing to bring you along,” she chided him softly, lips brushing against his cheek as he shuddered and moaned. The tip of the cold, wet tongue pressed against his slit, gently edging itself inside before leaving to lap at the head. Holy fucking shit, what is with this guy? Childe felt his mind dislodging itself from his skull. Fingers curled into the sheets, he gasped for air as the tongue began to thrust against his cock, gliding over the slide with slow motions.
Rosalyne yanked his hair, pushing Childe’s head downwards. She pushed him lower, arching his back as her nipple pressed against his face, “Go on pretty boy, put your mouth back to use.”
I’m in a pornographic novel.
Childe buried his thoughts behind a sly smile. Eagerly, he pressed a kiss against the warm skin, sucking on it before he drew his tongue in a long upwards line. Rosalyne smelled like mint and lavender, and she moaned quietly as Childe took her nipple and sucked gently. He rolled his tongue over it, lavishing it with attention, and he gently pushed it against his teeth.
His entire body shuddered when the tongue slide off his cock and Roland’s hand gently patted his ass, “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Rosalyne.”
“He’s alright – good enough for someone that can be such a headache.”
Fingers gently brushed stray fluffs of auburn hair from Childe’s face. Glancing up, he stared into her eyes and sucked harder. His teeth rolled the flesh and he pulled it as he released it from his lips, then pulled away.
“Just alright?”
Rosalyne scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself – you’ll have to do something more entertaining if you want praise from me.”
Eyebrow raising, Childe smirked, “Careful, you’re starting to sound reckless .”
“You little –”
Rosalyne yelped, eyes flaring in anger as Childe grabbed her thighs and shifted her. He held her steady, spread her legs as he lowered himself, and blew a rush of warm air across her cunt. His nose brushed against the thin, trimmed patch of pubic hair. Holding her steady, Childe glanced up – waiting for permission.
A hand pushed down on his neck from behind, and Roland grunted roughly, “Go on, be a good boy.”
Game on.
Childe took the challenge. He placed her legs on his shoulders and gently spread the folds of her cunt. When his tongue ran over it, licking and tasting the slightest hint of sweat, Rosalyne’s legs wrapped around his head and pulled him closer. Behind him, Childe felt the cool air brush against his ass and he groaned as his cock sprung free. He licked at the entrance of Rosalyne’s cunt, teasing the sides with long stretches of his tongue, but avoiding the small, bump of her clit.
“Come on, Ajax – if you keep teasing, you’ll regret –” Rosalyne growled. Her hands threaded themselves in his hair and she pulled on the strands harshly. “Let’s see this skill everyone keeps talking about.”
A tongue ran down the cleft of his ass – the long, cold muscle returning to cover his entrance and stretched across his sack. Shuddering, Childe took it as a sign to move. He pressed his tongue against Rosalyne’s clit, and he ran his tongue across it with gentle, slow circular motions. Her fingers tightened in his hair. His fingers teased the opening, his thumb hooking itself inside as Childe experimented with the motions of his tongue. He covered his lips over it and sucked, working his tongue across the bud and trying to take note of the motions Rosalyne liked most. When his tongue ran across it and he sucked on her clit in a way she liked, Rosalyne’s fingers twitched in his hair and her fingers spread out – massaging his scalp. He focused on her moans – the soft, deep breathy gasps as she let her fall back. Her hair fanned out behind her, and she looked beautiful – content and relaxed in a way that made Ajax throb.
He felt good seeing her like this – knowing he could make her happy in this way.
“Good boy, you’re doing a good job,” Roland growled and Childe felt the rumble of his voice reverberate in his chest. He whined, tongue struggling to keep its rhythm as he felt the wet tongue run across his ass. His entrance twitched, furiously clenching as rough, thick fingers spread him apart.
For a moment, Childe felt his heart skip a beat. Is seriously going to put his tongue in my ass? His ears burned hot. The tip of the tongue pressed against his tight hole, it pushed licked encouraging circles around the outside and a hand abandoned his ass to grab his cock.
“Come on Ajax,” Rosalyne tugged his hair, “Keep your mouth moving or one of us will have to punish you.”
Punish.
The word sent the little blood left in Childe’s head straight down to cock. He felt it twitch in Roland’s hand as the tongue pushed past his rim. Easily, it slide through him, traveling deep inside Childe’s ass as he instinctively tightened around it. He licked and lapped at Rosalyne’s clit with renewed energy – desperate to keep up with the man tonguefucking him from behind. He slowly pushed in two of his fingers, gently thrusting them in and out as he ran his tongue over her clit with a more serious dedication. Her entrance leaked, wet, and he lubricated his fingers on it before pushing them in deeper.
“That’s it, keep going,” Rosalyne groaned. One of her hands left his hair and reached up to pinch at her nipple, rolling it between her fingers as she arched back and pushed her cunt against Childe’s face. He curved his fingers upwards, searching for her G-stop as he bobbed his head and gently scraped his teeth against her clit.
The tongue in his ass did the same, and Childe whined loudly. He pushed back, body involuntarily shifting to push his ass into the long tongue. The hand on his cock holds him, permitting it to continue weeping. When the fingers are properly coated with Childe’s own fluids, Roland smeared it across his cock and fondled his balls. He rolled each one gently in his hand, tugging them with careful fingers in tune with each thrust of his tongue.
Facefucked and tonguefucked.
Childe couldn’t believe he was in this situation, but he didn’t complain. When his fingers found Rosalyne’s sensitive spot, he chased after her wet moans. Over and over, he stroked and prodded her cunt with his fingers, while his tongue matched the rhythm.
“Shit, Ajax,” Rosalyne moaned his name, head tilting back as she shuddered, “I’m coming –”
Oh fuck.
His heart raced faster. Roland’s hand wrapped more intently around his cock and quickly began stroking him, the pace growing quicker as the tongue inside his ass moved more furiously. The room filled with the sound of sex – wet sloppy noises intermixed with breathless gasps and half-spoken commands. Ajax’s fingers remained relentless, steadily keeping pace as Rosalyne’s cunt throbbed and tightened around him.
“Ajax!”
She gasped, body arching up as he felt her come on his fingers. He kept them moving, repeating the motion as a colorless liquid weakly splattered across his face. His cock ached, desperate as Childe fucked the hand and he moaned as he felt the pad of a calloused thumb pressed against his slit. His own orgasm gnashed its teeth inside him, the breathless sound of his name on Rosalyne’s tongue and the curl of an actual tongue inside him sent him spiraling towards the edge.
He was close.
His hips moved quickly – snapping as they furiously fucked the calloused skin. His eyes fluttered shut as Childe removed his hand and lapped at the cum lazily leaking from Rosalyne’s cunt. He focused on the taste of it – the slight salt and the way her fingers massaged his head, petting him like a dog as he felt his balls tighten.
So close.
Until he wasn’t.
The hand on his cock squeezed him tight, grip turning bruising, then released him as Childe’s arms gave away underneath him. He sobbed as he felt his orgasm flee – wrenched from him by the sudden abandon of pressure. His hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as hands held him tight.
“Fucking shit!”
Childe groaned. He looked over his shoulder and glared, eyes narrowed as he watched Roland pat his ass affectionately. A sheepish grin was stretched across his face – a look uncharacteristically at odds with the jagged, shark-like teeth in his mouth. Carefully, he rolled over Rosalyne and collapsed on the bed beside her. His cock stood proudly, the head a furious shade of red and leaking. A droplet or precum escaped from the slit and glided downwards across his shaft.
“Poor baby,” Rosalyne cooed breathlessly. She shifted to her side and pushed Childe’s hair behind his ear, “Someone’s not used to being told no.”
“I was about to come.”
He kept his eyes fixated on the other man. When Roland took his leg into one hand, he kicked at his chest and snarled, “If you were trying to show off that tongue of yours, then why’d you stop?”
Roland only smiled.
He took ahold of Childe’s leg again and rubbed the sore muscles, laughing as Childe kicked at him, “I figured you’d enjoy it more if we saved the best for last.”
“The best?”
Childe looked to Rosalyne and frowned as he saw the conniving look in her eyes. Despite the bright blush on her face, she smiled at him like a rabid wolf. Her hand stroked his chest lazily, fingers toying with his nipples as she smirked, “I told you that you’d enjoy this if you’d calm down and play nice.”
“I have played nice.”
“I know, stupid,” Rosalyne leaned in, scooching closer to Childe. She kissed his nose and the splotch of freckles on his cheek. When he tried to turn his head to kiss her, she moved away and playfully nipped at the shell of his ears as Roland’s hand glided up his leg. Glancing down, Childe watched as the hulking man crawled between his legs. He watched the muscles of his back flex beneath his skin. Stray black hairs tickled his thighs, and he watched as the man brushed it back. He grabbed Childe’s cock again.
Their eyes met.
Roland beamed at him again – his eye darkened, for a moment, and Childe stared mesmerized as his tongue slid from his mouth. Like a black snake, it crept from his mouth and flicked across the head. That was inside of me? Holy fuck. He wondered how long it was, but the thought vanished as a warm mouth engulfed him. Equal parts captivated and horrified, Childe watched the man swallow his cock whole. His fingers circled in the sheets and Childe felt Rosalyne’s breath on his ear as she put his head on her stomach.
“Since you were such a good boy for us, we’re going to fuck you.”
Childe looked up.
He blinked dumbly, “Fuck me?”
A finger pressed inside of him, pushing through his wet ring and Childe’s eyes clenched shut as he hissed. Growling, he leaned to free himself, but the energy was sapped from his limbs as he felt his cock hit the back of Roland’s throat. He felt Rosalyne’s hand push him back down, and she slid away from him – kissing him on the cheek.
“Just enjoy it –”
Childe couldn’t bring himself to argue with her. His legs wrapped around Roland’s head, pulling him closer as he felt the fingers in his ass expertly scissoring his muscle. The digits thrusted in and out, working his entrance open as Roland’s head began to bob.
“Oh god, fuck,” Childe’s voice shook as he felt the fingers curve up and press against the bundle of nerves inside him. He whimpered, hips rolling to fuck himself deeper into the warm throat. For a moment, he saw white – his vision blurring as he felt pleasure electrifying his nerves. “Don’t stop – fuck.”
Each press threatened to unravel him.
Toes curling, Childe lost sight of himself. It had been so long since sex had felt good. He hadn’t allowed himself to enjoy it in the year since leaving Liyue – the nights spent in someone’s bed had been a chore. But, this felt different. There were no emotions attached, nothing to convince Childe that he was more than a good fuck.
It made it easier.
If he focused on the hot and wet feeling or the dizzying thrust of fingers inside of him, he could pretend like the man didn’t remind him of Morax. His mind could justify the way he freely moaned and pleaded – despite the smell of Rosalyne surrounding him.
Weakness was dangerous among the Harbingers.
But, in this room, Childe knew he didn’t belong. When their affair ended, he would crawl back to his room and there would be nothing left. No hopes. No dreams. No thought of something more.
“Open your mouth and suck.”
The promise of nothing more made it easier to give in to the urge.
Eyes fluttering open, Childe stared at the long, phallic shape strapped to Rosalyne. His eyebrow raised, curious and unsure, but when she pressed the end of the dildo against his lips, he took it into his mouth without another word.
“That’s it, you’ll get a nice treat this time.”
Rosalyne moved further onto the bed, pushing the dildo further down Childe’s throat. Reaching down, she tangled her fingers in his hair and guided him, encouraging him to bob his head as he took more of the length. His eyes watered, throat clenching. Still, he kept going. When the dildo touched the back of his throat, he looked up at Rossalyne triumphantly.
She laughed, “That it’s. Look at you two – putting your mouths to work.”
Roland’s fingers slammed harshly into Childe’s prostate and the ginger grunted, coughing as he lost his rhythm. For a moment, they remained like that, their heads bobbing as Childe’s hips began to stutter. He felt the slightest flicker of his orgasm as the heat in his core began to build.
As if on cue, Roland’s hands slipped from his ass and he let Childe’s cock escape from his mouth with a wet pop. Rosalyne withdrew, the dildo sliding free of Childe’s mouth as he groaned. He frowned up at her – angry at the way she smiled at him and pressed the cockhead against his cheek. His spit smeared across his skin.
“On your hands and knees, Ajax.”
Looking up at her, he grunted and sighed, “You’re awfully demanding for someone who already came.”
Rosalyne slapped him.
Her hand struck him across the face, light, but enough that Childe snarled. But, his cock twitched as her fingers snatched his chin and turned his head up.
“You’ve been such a good pet, don’t turn into a brat now and ruin this for you. If you don’t play nice, I’ll string you up outside and let all the locals have a round with you.”
The threat went straight to Childe’s cock.
“Good boy, Ajax, keep going,” Rosalyne moaned. She held his head steady, holding him in place as she fucked deeper into his throat. A wet, pathetic noise rumbled his throat, the words silenced as he gagged around the cock sliding in and out of his mouth. “Such a good slut.”
Her words’ burned across his skin, adding to the harsh heat where Rosalyne’s hand slapped across his skin and left bright marks. Vicious. She was positively feral as she fucked his face. Tears freely dripped from his eyes, which clouded as his ass was split apart. The cock buried inside him was massive, rough, and relentless as it pistoned in and out of him with mechanical accuracy. Each time it buried itself deep inside him, Childe felt the cold ring roughly rub against his prostate.
In truth, he felt like he was melting away.
The hands on his hips, shoving him down into each thrust, were harsh. Inescapable. Childe felt his legs quivering beneath him and he struggled to keep himself upright. His arms ached. But, his body continued to keep him up as he slammed back and forth – impaled regardless of the direction he tried to escape to. His cock leaked freely, untouched, and ignored beneath him. Wet stains had gathered in a small puddle beneath him.
He was close.
His balls swung eagerly – tightening as he clenched around the cock. He felt full, overstuffed, and pushed to his limits. When it slid out of him, Childe felt himself eagerly pushing back, unable to cope with how utterly empty it felt. He cried out freely – muffled, unintelligible noises as the bed creaked licentiously.
Please.
I want to come.
In the absence of the ability to speak, Childe moaned and shoved himself back – impaling himself hard enough to draw a pained cry.
“Ajax,” Roland groaned his name, and Childe felt his heart break at how familiar it sounded. He made a mental note to correct the man, but the thought was punched from his mind as Roland’s cock slipped completely and buried itself to the hilt inside him as Rosalyne pounded the back of his throat. “Come for me, it’s okay.”
The words struck him like lighting.
Roland’s hand stroked his side, gentle and kind – his fingers burning every inch of skin it touched, “Let go.”
A simple command meant everything.
The words were disgusting in Childe’s head, painful and reminiscent of a warmth that Childe detested. And he came. His cock shot across the sheets, ruining them with his seed. Rosalyne pulled free from his mouth and he collapsed, falling to the sheets and clinging to them as his body trembled.
Roland pulled him back onto his cock.
Once.
Twice.
Then, he flipped Childe onto his back and threw himself on top of him. His weight crushed Childe and he was far too close, but his lips connected with Childe before he could complain. Their tongues tangled together. Roland’s eyes were wide – one pale and another honey-colored. His sharp teeth pricked Childe’s tongue, drawing the slightest taste of blood. He pulled away and kissed the side of Childe’s face, tenderly.
“You’re beautiful, there’s nowhere else I want to be but here with you.”
He came deep inside of him. His arms wrapped around Childe’s body, holding him tightly – protectively. Childe stared up at the ceiling. He felt the warmth seeping into him. Hands ran through his hair. Lips pressed against his throat, kissing the erratic pulse.
Silently, he cried.
Too much. It was all too much – too similar. When Roland looked at him, even with all their differences, Childe saw Zhongli, smiling at him, and it broke his heart.
“Are you okay?”
Childe brushed the hand away. He forced a smile on his face as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. His arms protested every motion, but Childe pushed his body to comply as he looked around the room for his clothes. I need to get out of here.
Air.
He needed air – a drink too.
“Ajax, you should lay down for a minute –”
“I told you I’m fine!”
Guilt washed over him immediately. His hands twitched in his lap, tremoring as he watched the light drain from Roland’s eye. Sighing, Childe bit his lip and cursed beneath his breath, “Fuck, I’m sorry. It isn’t you – I haven’t had a drink in a while and I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
“You better have a better apology than that, Ajax. That’s no way to speak to your superior,” Rosalyne quipped from the corner of the room. She sat at a desk, preoccupied with untangling and brushing her. Her body was wrapped in a towel and her skin glistened with the remnants of water.
Childe glared at her, “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused. Capitano, excuse him. Apparently, we’ve fucked the manners out of our youngest.”
Capitano.
The horror washed over Childe. Turning, he saw the worry etched across Capitano’s face – he held out his hand carefully, “Ajax. I can explain.”
“I thought your name was Roland.”
Rosalyne huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and glared at Childe, “Do you ever pay attention at the meetings? I thought it would be funny to give you a fake name, but I never thought you’d believe it. I mean – look at him.”
Childe looked back.
His face burned – humiliation spreading across his neck and face. His heart ached in his chest, squeezing pitifully as he relived the hours before. Pleading. Begging.
Fucking.
He had fucked Capitano.
A hand clasped his shoulder – holding him tight, and Childe stared into his eyes, “You can’t be the Captain. You – you stutter!”