primos | from @bakerstreet

from @bakerstreet

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I've gotten a lot better with my drinks, thank you kindly! I think sticking to one type helps keep my pranking fingers at bay. Jeez, I'm actually pretty long overdue for a good pranking... maybe Master Diluc ... maybe Miss Lisa...

Gah! Now you have me thinking of pranks, stop that.

[ He's trying to be good! Although, Zhongli may find it more bothersome to think back on spilled drinks, isn't that just life? A bunch of spilled drinks? They had a good laugh, even if Venti ran for his life in the process of it.

Even now... he thinks of it from time to time. ]

My timing is as it needs to be. I'll arrive promptly at the outskirts of Mondstadt's east gate and give you the best tour. The history, the gossip, and the best company you can expect. Just... let's avoid the church, eh? The sisters have been a bit agitated lately.

[ Funny enough, Venti's already taking down notes in a small leather notebook – all key points of his city and the people he'd introduce Zhongli to. Little stars and hearts around important bullet items line the paper, but... he stops between messages to soak it in. It's funny how the tables have turned...

Morax is not dead. That news brought him such joy, just as Venti's awakening must have done the same to the geo archon. The bard can't help but smile a bit wider. ]

There's just a few rules you have to follow. Ready to hear them?

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[ This moment was as much as the past as it was the present and future. A pivoting point from the path they had been on for so long but... perhaps Venti hoped deep down this would always be the destination. When he thought of Morax, he thinks of the frustration he felt.

So different, so set in his ways...

And yet, here he had bent enough for them to have this sweet moment where the air was stolen so desperately from his lungs.

The haunting heat of Zhongli's mouth to his when he mutters impossible makes the imp snicker against his lips. Though the name of Barbatos is heralded here, Zhongli knows all too well he was a trickster. With the man's features against his own, he fondly holds onto the sharpness of his jawline where he so desperately wants to become an expert traveler in. To learn Zhongli's body, to travel nerves and visit sweet spots... his face was red at the thought but he desperately wants to. ]

Would you have me any other way?

[ It's a cheeky smirk before he tugs him down for another peppered, light kiss to sate them. They can't keep doing this here! Even Venti knows that. ]

[ he doesn't answer the question, because he knows the answer.

instead, Venti pulls him down and he obliges. Zhongli, while certainly someone who has carved his own way through many canyons, still requires some level of seduction. Venti wiggles, almost flutters in his arms, and Zhongli keeps a grip on him.

for someone like him, affection doesn't matter where and when it's expressed. Venti will have to lead him elsewhere before he stops. ]

After so long, I thought you would know me better.

[ than assuming he'd leave Barbatos unsatisfied.

this, in a way, is also a contract. ]

[ Just like Venti's always been – it's fleeting. Here and there kisses, lips just missing his and ghosting against the promise of more. Restraining himself is the surprising part of this, but he's not drunk. If he had a few more mimosas, perhaps welcomed Zhongli when he was more lonely... Venti would have been on his knees already. ]

I do! But, isn't there something exciting about still having so much to learn about one another?

[ His voice takes an interesting turn. It's unsaid what they would be learning. From friends to lovers, that was an entirely new realm of perception and study.

Contrary to what people think of the drunkard: Venti does his homework and studies well.

But that voice? It hooks with a sweet, sultry sing-song way – he's not wrong. The thought of seeing Zhongli in a new light makes him anxiously chew his own lip, thinking of how to go about this. Fingers dance down the side of Zhongli's neck, to his front and walk the line to his waistline as if he wants to reel him in, not just secure him. ]

Where are you staying tonight?

[ It's innocent enough, toeing the line of what was appropriate at the same moments his fingers tempt to undo his coat. ]

We could go – [ They could do many things, they should have but this feels... like a homecoming in a way. ] – if you'd like.

[ then Venti lights up, as if the two of them hadn't spent the last two-hundred years in various states of loss. perhaps loneliness could say a lot about the two of them, and Zhongli thinks, perhaps, that they should've done this sooner.

a gloved hand rests on the back of Venti's shoulders, moving up and down absently, but methodically. he's gotten better at this from the last time that Venti had seen him, but it's been five-hundred years. he stands under Venti's wandering fingers and hands, giving him room to explore. ]

I haven't explored any options for lodging, yet. Would you be more comfortable elsewhere?

[ yes, they certainly should've done this sooner. ]

[ The small, soothing feeling was new. Not in the grand scheme of things, but new from Zhongli. As if the stone's hard edges had smoothed over and he can grasp something like this without feeling pain. To let some walls down, but not all of them.

He can have his secrets, Zhongli can have his. They find common ground, bound by bigger movements on a board they can't fully see. One button comes undone of Zhongli's coat and another as they stand so obviously enamored with one another. Anyone who walked in would have no doubt. ]

Mmm? I merely thought we'd appreciate some privacy. Have a few glass of wines, get comfortable and...

[ Thwap, Venti paps at his stomach idly and turns his features away with red riddling his rounded, cherub cheeks. ]

Continue this conversation.

[ "Conversation", is technically true. It's just a different language, especially one of the body's desires. Venti looks back, but steels on. Zhongli does best when the bard lays things out. ]

Preferably a bed, but if you have other ideas... please, you have the floor!

[ it had been five-hundred years mulling over the words of Guizhong, and living without Barbatos' particular brand of leisure. he had a lot to think about, and he also had a long way to go.

while Zhongli doesn't loosen a grip on him, he does put a hand over his to stop wind sprite fingers from disrobing him further than a decorative clasp. (however, he doesn't dissuade the first.) then Venti is looking both cheeky and a little flushed. Zhongli had always found this sort of affection within the bard's territory, but perhaps he isn't connecting it correctly. perhaps there's something else.

still. ]

Barbatos. [ it's quiet, but still firm, if not a little curious. ] Are you embarrassed? Surely couplings of such a sort are well within your realm of expression. Song and pleasure carry the same notes.

[ this is the man you fell for, Venti. well, at least Zhongli does have some faith in Venti's performance.

he turns him partially toward the door, casually re-clasping the button that Venti so boldly undid. (Zhongli is very put together, it means it may be all that more satisfying to watch him become something of a mess later.) with the hand still on his back, he guides him back through and outside again. ]

Perhaps the best way to get reacquainted is to take advantage of that privacy.

[ though he certainly doesn't think he's wrong, there. there are many ways to reunite, and the one Venti's suggesting is just one they haven't done before. ]

[ Long before his slumber, Barbatos and Morax didn't always see eye-to-eye. It was a testament of fundamental differences between Liyue and Mondstadt. They work well together, but there's little roadblocks or compromises that must be made. Venti was ready to do something bold – to risk electrocution from Mondstadt's meanest librarian and drop to his knees in a shockingly selfish way! To greet his Liyue guest properly to the city!

Yet, no. Zhongli stops his idle unbuttoning and his brows furrow down.

When he speaks, he literally gasps out loud? ]

That's a round-about way of calling me a whore, Morax!

[ His cheeks puff out, clearly not too upset about it to deny the company. His performance is stellar – song or sin, but Zhongli may not get it at this rate if he keeps flustering him. Back outside, they were still at a loss of where to go. Privacy was best. Privacy to use one another's names – new or old – and to not feel like they could be interrupted. He turns, gripping one of Zhongli's hands and tugging him down the alleyway. ]

There's an Inn. Not too far from here. There's usually a few rooms, and – we could... claim one for the night...? If that's preferable for you.

[ they were fundamentally different in many ways, like the push and pull of the ocean against the rocks. yet Zhongli knows he wouldn't have been able to make the decision to allow Liyue to flourish by the hands of humans if it wasn't for Venti. they had been influences on each other, both in good ways and in bad – probably more good than bad.

when Venti pulls him along, he follows behind him at a measured pace. ]

A room for the night would be preferable. I'll allow you the lead. [ he knows there are other places Venti rests, and he's not the best outside sleeper when he doesn't have to be.

so, he feels a little press to clarify. ] Now, it's a roundabout way of asking what part of our affection may have you so flustered. It's not an insult to be well acquainted with forms of affection.

[ the last part is said with a certain gentleness.

Venti was much freer with his own love, while Zhongli required some level of interest, and then eventually a contract. Zhongli's hedonism, while finely aged, was a relatively new part of his life, Venti somehow turned it into another part of his nature. ]

[ He spends some nights at said Inn. Working with the maids lazily in the morning when they need an extra bit of help cleaning the rooms – all for free, just for a place to rest his head if he's had too much to drink and didn't feel like slinking into the wilds. They know he's as much of a menace as he is a miracle, pulling through in a pinch when needed.

Yet... he may or may not be working against fate. A certain Cavalry Captain was keeping the Inns mighty full, after all. They'll see when they get there. His mind works half-fueled by the desire to not ruin this, a small high of hope that he can't help but feel addicting in its own right.

He needs no wine right now, he wants to drink this moment with Zhongli.

Yet, of course, he overcomplicates things. ]

Mo – Zhongli. This whole thing has me flustered! This isn't some story or tale weaved in scandalous story. [ It means... quite more than some affair. Drunk or sober. By the time Venti tugs him to the front of the Inn, there was no 'guard' awaiting – it seemed like there was some leeway to walk in and ask for a room, knowing full well where Venti's mind was leading them to. Instead, he stops and rolls a thumb to Zhongli's knuckle, taking his hand into his own tightly. ] When you have repeatedly let something slip between your fingers, you begin to wonder if it could be held onto in the first place. You may be painfully hard to get a hold of to inspire such a free spirit, but this new life you live ...I refuse to accept that any longer. Stay with me for the night. Whatever will come from it, will be more than enough – for I'll no longer regret.

Edited 2022-08-10 07:42 (UTC)

[ Zhongli catches the words as they first pass through Venti's lips. ]

That you regret.

[ it's said mostly to himself, as if he had to repeat the words to fully understand them. there were many things that he knew Barbatos had regretted: scratched them all into his brain until the only way that he could avoid emotional calamity was to drown himself in liquor.

he thinks again how they should've done this sooner, even though their lives were never promised to be peaceful.

Venti urges him this way and that, and he follows him to the inn until they're just outside the door. ]

Barbatos ... [ perhaps he's a little baffled. to him, being with Venti is easy, because they had been that way through more than just affection. this was natural, a step that was just proximity. ] I'll stay with you as long as you'll have me. If it's one night, or many nights to come. I have been here far longer; too long for you to dwell on lost opportunities. There are things that you've lost, but I am not one of them.

[ it's not said without weight to it, low and with a quiet purr. when he speaks something, the words were chiseled into a stone contract. ]

Shall we? I'll show you.

[ Regret was etched in that little notebook – for time, even after awakening after so long, was precious. Venti may be eager to reconnect and make up for lost time, but he's seeking something new and exciting here. The entrance of the Inn provides a poor place for this conversation, but so was where they shared their kiss in the library.

They make it work regardless.

He feels more vulnerable than ever because this wasn't some simple fling with a pretty man or woman that caught his attention in a bar – this was Morax. Elevated high in his mind despite their disagreements and pettiness.

To hear things played out so plainly as Venti turn red in the face if only for a brief second. His fingers snatch at the tie settled precise in front of Zhongli's chest and tugs him down enough. I'll show you.

He acts with another small abandon for anything proper, to kiss the man again in agreement and appreciation. Can you blame him? The old bard was sentimental and Zhongli speaks delicately on this.

Public displays such as this weren't... too far off, but Mondstadt was free with its care and love – but Venti doesn't let the kiss linger. He'd hate to make Zhongli feel uncomfortable. ]

Then, let us retire.

[ He doubts they'll leave the Inn room after they arrive. In they go, a fresh-faced young maiden behind the desk with stacks of towels waiting to be folded. She seems frazzled. With her eyes peer up, she looks – ah... her face droops.

"Welcome, welcome and – ...oh. Sir Venti... it's you." ]

What kind of greeting is that?! Miss Greta, please, curve those lips up into a smile!

[ "I would but, you left your room in disarray last time you stayed! It was as if a whirlwind went through it! Please don't tell me you're seeking a room again."

Oh, his face turns red – he had left in a rush last time and... maybe forgot to clean up after himself? He takes a step back, almost butting into Zhongli in the process. ]

A whirlwind that touches down is said to never be repeated... please tell me, do you have any availability for the next few days..?

[ Days. Even with Zhongli's words, assuming they'd share a room together for days inspires a soft smile on his face. Greta glances up to Zhongli, then to Venti – back and forth as she folds one towel over her delicate fingers.

"We have two availabilities. The Grandmaster Suite and a double bed." Venti beam a bit, assuming that the double bed would be more than enough! ]

Perfect! We'll take –

[ days, Venti says in that whimsy, carefree voice of his. Zhongli watches with mild interest after he's been pulled and tugged toward the inn. as the Lord of Geo, he's tough to fluster, and after thousands of years, even in Venti's absence, Zhongli knows him better than he thinks.

in all of his fuss, Zhongli catches Venti by the shoulder to steady him. a messy room is hardly something that he cares deeply about (Venti is, well, Zhongli certainly would use the term messy to describe him). for all of their parties and assemblies before before the entire world fell apart, they had never connected quite like this. for him, it was less a surprise, and more of a certain progression that felt comfortable. indeed, he thinks that this is belated rather than never intended.

but they were old, lonely, and both of them were still counting their sacrifices like so many talons to their insides. they had been beaten and picked apart, forced to make choices against their own personal philosophy but for the betterment of all of Teyvat. they couldn't go back into the past and change what had happen, they merely had to live with the consequences. however, they could live with those consequences together.

Zhongli catches Greta's eyes with his own and almost gives her a start. it's not often that a tall, well-dressed man from Liyue graces the small, tucked away little inn. ]

The suite would be preferable.

[ and he says it with such authority that she's already making the arrangements. it doesn't matter that he, erm, doesn't have the money. he looks like he has the money, and that's enough for Greta not to even question a payment upfront.

here he is, being unreasonably grandiose. well, they wanted to enjoy themselves, didn't they? he's a gentleman of high taste.

Greta is already gathering a few supplies and grabbing the keys to lead them down the hallway. Zhongli looks like this is completely normal. ]

[ Days means they wouldn't feel a very mortal constriction of time. To rush and to lose sight of the finer details is how horrible stories are made! If Venti was to step into this territory with someone that makes his heart beat faster, he wants toe ensure the details were remembered fondly. Needless to say, he won't be slow but he'll be thorough.

Thorough stories always yield the best investment.

Truthfully, it had been subconscious but what really snaps his attention was Zhongli's interjection. A suite? He doesn't even think he's wandered into the fancier areas of Celestia! A suite sounds lavish and despite his own humble (and poor) life as a bard, he doesn't turn it down.

Greta certainly does her best to not overthink or connect the dots. Venti was already following her with an air of whimsy behind – his cape fluttering on a wind that follows only him and his cap grabbed onto sheepishly as he tries to make small talk. Horribly. Greta doesn't care to hear about the founders of the Inn (that Venti may have known well – or at the very least, their ancestors). He may speak as if he's telling from a history book, but she unlocks the suite door dutifully.

It's expansive – a large bed across, a few dressers, a small table, and a private bath attached.

"This suite has many amenities that put Fontaine to shame. You'll find complimentary fruit bowl on the table, coals to heat the bath, and a relaxation basket is for every new guest. Robes, sleep masks, oils, and a book on Things to Do in Mondstadt can be found there.

...Although, I doubt you need it, Mister Bard. Please summon me if you need anything further."

She hides her face by tucking her hand down, setting the supplies like fresh towels onto the table before departing. The two remain in the doorway and Venti looks around in awe. What beautiful detail – it looks straight out of the Knights HQ! Too many adornments of lions and dragons for his taste on the wall, but – ]

What do you think?

[ Greta gets a gracious you have my gratitude that almost makes her stop again before she scurries out to leave them alone. unbeknownst to Zhongli, she's most certainly going to gossip – the pair of them do look a little odd together, but Zhongli doesn't care about those sorts of social perceptions.

in contrast to Venti, Zhongli takes a few strides in the room, looking quite like he belongs there. he guides Venti in by the shoulders, then closes the door quietly behind them with a click. ]

There's a lot of fine detail.

[ but it serves to distract Zhongli for the moment as he takes a walk around the room at his own, leisurely pace, hands clasped behind him by the wrist. he observes the flourishes on the walls, the craftwork of the desk, commenting on the wood (it was from Liyue), and then pausing at a picture hung over the bed.

it's a painting of Barbatos, done in a pastel oil paints, wings spread, details obscured in strokes of paint. it looks dreamy, most likely painted by someone who might've seen the Anemo Archon in a dream.

however, there's something curious about it.

there's a baby in the arms of the god in the painting. ]

Is that your child?

[ there's a lightness in his voice that's a little uncharacteristic of him. he's just ... he's curious, he wants to know about this mystery child. ]

[ The reality begins to set in when Zhongli shuts the door. He had thought about this idly – wondering if he'd be stiff and boring in bed or an attentive and ferocious lover. Greta may have taken all common sense with her when she exits because Venti is ready to dive into the bed – given by how he slips out of his dirt-struck little loafers so his stocking-clad feet can feel the plush rug against his soles. His cap was pulled off to toss next to the towels and he's already tugging at the ribbon on his cape before Zhongli ruins the mood.

Utterly and entirely.

His gaze falls up when he asks 'is that your child?' He expects maybe a little Mondstadter had taken a nap in the bed or maybe is hiding in the bathroom but... no.

One of those ugly paintings that grew popular around a seven hundred years ago – pah! He was not too happy about it – despite the vivid detail with color, the shapes were just almost grotesque and unsettling. His nose scrunches up and his gaze falls back to Zhongli. ]

I have no heir and my heir would not be that ugly if so!

[ Scandal is heavenly Barbatos calling a child ugly. Yet, he also thinks Zhongli won't let him live this down. How embarrassing. He scrambles to Zhongli, hand to his wrist with a tug down until he was hunched over towards him. ]

You have a living, breathing work of art in front of you... pay nothing else mind. Only me, okay?

[ Bold favors the foolish as Venti's lips find Zhongli's again. Sweet and savory, his free hand undoes the ribbon to loosen his cape fully – letting it fall to the floor without much notice. Backstepping towards the bed, he dares not pry soft lips from those belonging to stone – they brace him and he welcomes it readily with a groan of satisfaction.

Whether Zhongli allows them to get there remains to be seen, but Venti backsteps until the back of his legs brush up to the foot of the bed. Kissing as fine, if only to learn more about what lit Zhongli aflame. ]

[ Zhongli would hesitate to call it ugly – trying, perhaps? the technique was good, the colors were well thought out, and it was certainly a relic of its time. it served as a part in Barbatos' history as the Anemo Archon, much like some of the artwork depicted of Rex Lapis.

after all, didn't Venti say he wanted him to enjoy Mondstadt? now he seems settled on wanting him to enjoy something else. Venti's pattering across the floor in stockinged feet to pull him down and demand his affection. the question sits for a moment but Zhongli dismisses it in favor of Venti's soft mouth. there's a lingering taste of alcohol, but it's not strong, nor is it unpleasant.

Venti makes it so a small push is all he needs to catch Venti's knees against the edge of the mattress and push him flat on his back. for the moment, Zhongli seems suitably distracted with a willing mouth that presses the kiss deeper, slow and confident. it's like many things he does, intense yet measured, and when he draws back it's to catch the end of his glove with his teeth and discard it unceremoniously over the side of the bed. ]

You say nothing else, yet I haven't heard you sing. Must I find a way to do that, myself?

[ he presses the bridges of their noses together, and his long, bare fingers drag up Venti's thigh until they dip just below the hem of his shorts. ]

[ It was really ugly and he is embarrassed. Those cheeks rival the red of an apple, maybe a sunsietta at this rate, but the kisses offer a good distraction. Deep and daring, they plunge into an unknown sense of familiarity. It wasn't going in blind, but they were learning a new language together.

What does Zhongli want and how does he work intimately?
What does Venti desire most and how can he beg for it and maintain that smug nature?

Before long, they do indeed topple into bed and it was Zhongli's turn to abandon articles of clothing to add to the 'pile' on the floor. It's not a pile, but what mess with Venti was ever in one neat one? The glove biting was a good look and he with draws with a labored breath – hot against Zhongli's mouth.

By the time he touches against those thighs, chasing his shorts – the bard bends the knee and legs him settle right between his legs with little conversation on it. It's bold – to tug Zhongli down against him on a soft, welcoming bed after all they've been through. To Zhongli, it may seem simple, but Venti is afraid he'll awaken to a lonely branch in the tree in Windrise ... and this will have all been a dream.

His stirring was proof enough that it was not a dream, however. Venti's reaching up and pawing at his jacket already – trying to undo buttons with a quicker speed than those slow, canvasing fingertips of his. ]

A bard rarely works for free. [ He's still a smug little troll when he wants to be, but he doesn't leave him wanting – his words carry a haze over them. Throaty and more breathy, as if it's stolen from him. ] You're lucky I'm generous, blockhead. You have something I want, so... so badly. I'm not afraid to put my fair share into this.

[ Pleadingly, he nuzzles into Zhongli's features, a soft whisper bordering an anxious moan follows. ]

Keep touching me. Please.

[ Zhongli is someone who's always rooted to the earth, steady and strong. in the moment, he's always there fully, and now his attention is on Venti. for someone who seems so rigid, he kisses easily, but not without intention. Venti's little wiggles and movements are welcome – he's always been like this, brimming with energy and unable to sit still, he quite likes it.

and here he is, already begging and pleading for more even though they've barely started. in response Zhongli drags his open palm from the back of his thigh to cup his ass just under his shorts. ]

Generous, you say? Here I've been waiting for five-hundred years to hear your voice again, you could indulge me a little.

[ the unclasping of the elaborate buttons and hooks on Zhongli's suit is left to Venti's deft fingers. each comes undone and reveals another, even as the gold-lined jacket slumps over his shoulders. his clothing is layered, detailed and intricate, and absolutely frustrating. to fulfill Venti's request, he can't move to discard anything, not yet, anyway, and some part of him can't help but find that amusing.

he fills his hand with the round curve of Venti's rear, and when he's satisfied he's in the correct position, he gives him a squeeze. ]

[ Such anxious movements needs something to root it back down. Zhongli offers a good body to pin itself down into his if he gets too wild, at the very least. He wanted a song, but Venti provides a plea – one that was received well enough to earn touches. That shape, round and petite as it was, still fits so nicely into his grasp. It spurs on so much feelings that Venti almost pleads with him to stop because of his own reaction. Bodily and the way his mind begins to race. He can't let his imagination get the better of him when the reality was right here. Venti, as lonely as he had been, is having Zhongli not out of pity but something deeper. They dive into this blind leap of faith but the truth had always been clear: they were a safety net for one another, even when they annoyed each other most. Their morals aligned enough to see the other respectfully and with great affection when times were tough.

Liyue and Mondstadt never raged war with one another, but they grew to accommodate and influence the other. Such is how they were now. Where Zhongli gives, Venti takes... and he'll return fire soon enough. ]

Mmm? I'm right here. Waiting to moan and cry out because of your doing. I'll sing you a nice lullaby if you find yourself unable to sleep after we...

[ Five-hundred years of longing, if not more, but Venti still feels bashful to confirm what they could be doing together. Obvious as it was, he's playing hard to get here. Venti is working so hard to undo Zhongli's top attire and failing to pull it off. The bard pouts, features scrunched in annoyance and ready to scold him but... nope. That squeeze encourages a yelp and he moans out his lover's name like a whisper on the wind – ]

Zhongli...

[ that's not quite the song that he was looking for, but it was a start. there are a few things that the Anemo Archon Barbatos could do that others could not: prove himself a nuisance in the name of whimsy, drink several liters of fine liquor and pass out on the hard wood floor, and sing like nothing else in this world.

there's a tremble of his body, and Zhongli thinks it must be nerves. has it been that long? ]

You're anxious.

[ he says with a frown tugging at his lips. he's still close enough to feel the mingle of their two breaths, and he doesn't pull back. Venti's fingers are tangled in the complicated layers of gold and fabric.

he helps him along, guiding his fingers just beneath the tie and pulling it loose so Venti can finish in whatever way that he'd like. balancing himself with ease, he allows the first layer of his jacket to fall to the side of the bed, along with his glove, and the vest underneath. he makes it look easy, elegant, as if he were shedding golden scales.

it does mean taking his hands off Venti for the time being, but it gives him an opportunity to breathe. ]

I will not rush, and we've got a long night ahead.

[ it's a tease, but it sounds gentle, quiet. ]

It will not be a fleeting moment.

[ It was not due to lack of affairs – but the realization that Venti wasn't chasing a ghost of the past. He trembles against him only out of want and to sate the quickening beat of his heart. ]

I am not. [ Venti huffs, averting his gaze briefly onto that horrible painting and quickly to the nightstand to the left. He lies, only because he's lying to himself first and foremost. There is anxiety there if only because what he's wanted begins to reveal itself bit by bit. Layers of clothes were silly in the grand scheme of things, it's the layers Zhongli pulls back and allows Venti to see. Vulnerability. A mortal want that reminds both of them that these days are not the days that have passed. They can be simple – lounging in a bed, sharing pleasure, and most importantly... being greedy. ] It's called excitement, blockhead. If you doubt me, you can touch lower for confirmation.

[ Venti is very interest when Zhongli pulls back just to help him out. Together they work through what separates them and Venti sees him in a new light. It's certainly not as if he hadn't seen those scandalous statues of Morax posed with his body on display – but seeing him less prim and proper now ignites a flame that makes him slowly lift his hips up and seek out a bit of relief with friction. Whatever he can press into, Venti grinds the front of his shorts just idly into him. He isn't picky. ]

And you're sure you won't just succumb to a bedtime at sundown? Old men tend to nod off...

[ He can tease, in his own dumb way, but he doesn't want to rely on old dynamics. No wine to be poured, signatures forged, or meteors hurled. Venti sits up and tapers the joke about Zhongli's age with a fierce kiss – one that wasn't fleeting as well. It's deep, grounding, and works in the passions his words haven't yet said to him.

Venti wants him so badly and that kiss makes it clear. By the time he pulls away to breathe, he makes his own demand: ]

Lay back on the bed.

Edited 2022-09-05 18:00 (UTC)

[ Venti shoots back, and Zhongli's expression wanes and waxes like the moon: he looks surprised, then curious, then amused. the observation was not meant as an insult, but Venti's chattering at him like he's made a deliberate social faux pas. it makes Zhongli wonder if they'd been biting at eachother's heels for so long that it just became part of their second nature. ]

As if you aren't an old man yourself, just one who loses himself in his cups.

[ the tone is more playful than cutting, muffled amid a hot, prying kiss. while Zhongli doesn't have the same ferocity, he has depth, and a deep, firm grip of stone as Venti wiggles in his arms. even the god of freedom may crave something steady once in a while, just as the god of contracts may cherish his flexibility.

Zhongli complies with the demand, but at his own pace. the vest under his jacket is the next thing to go, dropped next to them on the bed ceremoniously where it will most certainly fall to a heap on the floor before they're finished. the buttons of his shirt are pulled against the loops between Venti's fingers, a few of them undone and showing the barest amount of skin.

before he turns on his side, he trails long fingers between them, pressing his palm between Venti's legs to take the feel that he had offered. he cups him in his hand, giving him the friction that he so sorely seems to want through the fabric of his shorts. he is hard, Zhongli confirms, as he fondles him in his hand.

momentarily distracted as he props himself up on his elbow, balancing on the mattress, and looking quite like he could easily be pushed over into whatever position Venti was fancying. ]

[ To inspire such reactions from someone so stonefaced – that was a little victory that he holds to his heart. ]

I'm infinitely more youthful... I'm sure my stamina even exceeds yours. We'll just put it to the test soon, won't we?

[ Venti enjoys what they're exploring together and making up for lost time nicely. ...Perhaps he's also showing a bit more appreciation in actions too, as if he was thankful that they have this chance after word had spread of his own death.

There's care in how he acts, excitable and less precise but he gets on track with what he asks. Imagine the yelp against Zhongli's mouth when he feels the offer taken upon quite literally. Venti's cock twitches in approval it feels like, stiff against the bottom of his palm and modest in size – it's fitting for his body top.

Before he can enjoy it, Venti snaps back into his own desires again. He wants to tend to Zhongli, if only to get the first smug words in for bringing forth pleasure. The wind pushes back against Zhongli without even allowing the boy to push him himself. Onto his back, Venti squirms own with a snickering, mischief-riddled noise. Fingers dance to his own waistline and tugs down – if only to get out of his shorts and allow the tight white fabric to cling to him like a second skin. ]

You can touch more soon, just let me do the same first.

[ Buckles and zippers were annoying to deal with but he wants to see Zhongli. Had he let a stray thought or two seep into his dreams? Maybe... or perhaps he was far more forward that he did find the old stone attractive. Regardless, it's more than physical for them.

It's a shape of interest that doesn't have one. So, they explore to shape it together. Molding hands grope to Zhongli's thighs, pushing up until he cups against his front half for a reaction too. He'll undress him but maybe a sudden strike for revenge earns his attention first. ]

You'll let me give these skillful kisses somewhere else to settle, won't you?

[ That narrows down where Venti's mind is going. ]

[ this is only one form, and Zhongli has taken many. their little dance isn't something moral, though he certainly finds aspects of Barbatos attractive. he watches that mischievous little smile as Venti discards his clothing, showing off his assets as if he were singing in front of a crowd, even if Zhongli was the only one there.

typical, he thinks, both exasperated and fond. ]

Who am I to deny such requests? It's not escaped me that it's been on your mind, Barbatos.

[ his voice is low, quiet and amused, coming from deep in his chest as Venti rolls him over and covers him in light touches. without complaint, he complies, spreading his legs and rising against the sheets so Venti can rid him of anything that he deems trivial.

like a dragon, his breath catches in his chest when he's touched, and he arcs like a snake against the bed. it's as natural to him as it would be on his feet: legs spread, shoulders pressed into the bed, and he wears it well. ]

There's something you want.

And it hasn't been on yours? Be honest and perhaps I'll lift the veil of how often you've crossed my mind. It may be more than you crossed our border!

[ How many times has he let this moment wander into his mind like a fresh breeze to open inn windows? The thought had skirted like tangled curtains, honestly – how could it not? Zhongli before him presents a challenge, but Venti doesn't lounge around when it really matters.

Venti merely snickers a coy little hum, teeth catching his tongue mischievously. A tiny palm presses between those spread legs, fondling at his front half with little shame. ]

I do. [ He doesn't play games with that. That much is clear. Those big, teal eyes look up with honesty that feels... vulnerable. Venti nods, repeating the sentiment: ] Pretty badly, actually.

[ With his cooperation, Zhongli will feel his waistline tugged down, the undergarments going with it. Venti squirms and wiggles around – moving so he can disrobe him fully. Sitting back on his knees, he looks down to drink in the view.

It tastes better than wine. ]

Oh. Morax... [ His breath catches his words, airy and soft. The heat of his own interest reddens his face but he smiles at the realization: they were really doing this. ] What a view, I have! So envious your Liyue scholars would be to see you like this...

[ Don't be a perv. ]

from @bakerstreet

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