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Running a pharmacy came with its own benefits, among them access to a wide range of substances, both medicinal and otherwise. This time, a shipment had arrived from Sumeru: a newly developed aphrodisiac. It had been advertised to Baizhu as largely harmless, with drowsiness as the only side effect of excessive use.
Perfect.
It was not as though Baizhu had any real complaints about his relationship with Zhongli. On the contrary, it was quite ideal, in nearly every aspect.
And yet, there remained a certain… difficulty. Not one of affection, nor of trust, but something far more mundane, and somehow all the more frustrating for it. Zhongli, for all his attentiveness, had a tendency to treat him as though he might break under too firm a touch.
It was not an entirely unfounded concern. Baizhu was, by any reasonable measure, in poor health. His constitution had always been… unreliable, and he was more familiar with his own limits than most.
But fragile? Hardly.
He understood his body well enough to know what it could withstand, and what it could not. Zhongli’s caution, while well-intentioned, erred too far on the side of restraint. It was careful to the point of hesitation, measured where it did not need to be.
Baizhu did not dislike gentleness. In fact, he even welcomed it. But it had begun to feel like the only language Zhongli was willing to speak to him, and that, more than anything, had started to wear thin.
He wanted more than to be handled as though he might shatter at a touch.
And so, he had devised a plan.
It was, perhaps, not the most honest approach. Baizhu was well aware of that.
The moment he'd heard about the aphrodisiac, he knew he had to try it. He'd tried a small dose on himself, finding out its effects were quite mild and short-lived. It had resulted in heightened pleasure during the last time they'd made love, but that increased arousal had left him more on edge afterwards than usual, as he had not quite gotten what he'd wanted, Zhongli's gentleness getting in the way as it always did.
So when he'd use it on Zhongli, he knew it would not impair judgment, only lower inhibitions that were, frankly, excessive to begin with.
That evening would unfold as usual. Dinner, then tea. Routine had its advantages, predictable enough to allow for a small… adjustment.
He paused there, fingers stilling briefly against the edge of the table.
Trust had never been an issue between them. That was precisely why this worked at all.
Baizhu set the thought aside. There was no need to overcomplicate it.
With practiced calm, he started preparing for Zhongli's return home.
It is only as their conversation softens into slower pauses that Baizhu begins to notice it.
Zhongli's posture remains composed, but there is a quiet heaviness settling into it now, subtle enough that someone less attentive might have missed it entirely.
“Are you tired? Maybe you should go lie down”, he remarks softly, hand on Zhongli's shoulder.
Zhongli inclines his head slightly. “Perhaps. Your tea is quite effective.”
The words are followed by a quiet pause, as though even speaking them requires a little more effort than usual.
“Then you should rest,” Baizhu says gently.
This time, there is no objection.
The journey to the bedroom is slightly slower than usual. Zhongli's steps are measured, his composure still intact in form if not in sharpness. He does not lean heavily on Baizhu, but he does not quite refuse the steady guidance either.
Baizhu eases him down with careful hands. Zhongli's eyes remain half-lidded, as if he might speak again, but the thought never fully forms, and his eyes slowly close instead.
Baizhu had increased the recommended dose slightly, adjusting for Zhongli's nonhuman nature. How much aphrodisiac would it take to affect an Archon? He is not sure, but hopes it is enough and not too much or too little. The last thing he would want is for Zhongli to experience any as-yet undocumented side effect, but for now, everything seemed all right.
He reaches for the sash of his robe. This part of the plan he'd hesitated on. He knew Zhongli would not struggle, or get angry. And yet, the thought of restraining the other man burned deep in the pit of his stomach, arousal overriding rational thought.
He ties Zhongli's hands gently above his head, into the headboard of the bed.
For a moment, he simply watches him before heading into the bathroom. He makes quick work of preparing himself, indulging in fantasies of what's to come as he does it.
When he enters back into the room, Zhongli still seems to be fast asleep, chest slowly falling and rising. Baizhu hesitates. He does not particularly like the idea of pouncing on a sleeping person, as it was not a part of the plan. But he's already come this far, too aroused to let it all end here.
He approaches the bed slowly, open robe softly draped across his shoulders.
The mattress dips slightly as he climbs onto it, and Zhongli stirs.
Not abruptly or in alarm. Rather, like he was gently drawn back toward awareness, a faint furrow of brows as sleep begins to loosen its hold.
“...How unexpected”, Zhongli murmurs, his voice still heavy with sleep, though not unsteady as he rakes his gaze across Baizhu's partially exposed body.
"I'm sorry," Baizhu replies with a coy smile, settling himself beside Zhongli.
"It's the only way I could get what I wanted," he continues, gaze lingering on Zhongli as he reaches for his robe. It slips open, falling around Zhongli's sculpted naked body. The aphrodisiac's effect is unmistakable, as Baizhu's eyes travel down to his achingly hard, leaking cocks.
“Then tell me,” Zhongli says, gaze steady on Baizhu. “What is it you want?”
Instead of verbalizing his desires, Baizhu simply settles onto his lap, straddling him. He slides down, one of Zhongli's cocks grazing against his slick entrance, drawing quiet moans from them both. He continues moving like this, hips undulating as if he were dancing, slowly and sensually.
Zhongli starts to tug at his restraints, although there's no real fight to it. He clenches and unclenches his fists, groaning at each calculated movement Baizhu makes.
Finally Baizhu grabs one of his cocks, lowering himself just enough that his slick entrance grazes the leaking tip. Zhongli's breathing has gone open-mouthed and heavy, his chest rising and falling with each unsteady breath. Baizhu cannot stop himself from clenching in response, already wanting it, needing it, deep inside him. But just as much, he needs to see Zhongli finally come undone beneath him. He continues this teasing, even though it frustrates both of them.
"Enough, I—”, The rest of Zhongli's protest dissolves into a low, unsteady moan as Baizhu finally sinks down all the way.
Everything goes still. Baizhu keens at the feeling of finally being filled to the brim, as Zhongli's cock twitches inside him. He starts moving slowly and deliberately. Lifting himself almost all the way up before sinking back down, much too slowly to truly satisfy either of them.
Zhongli groans, the sound more guttural, more animalistic this time. The sound sends a thrill through Baizhu. He's finally getting what he wants. But Zhongli remains still beneath him, almost shaking with the effort not to move.
“It's okay,” Baizhu whispers, leaning down next to Zhongli's ear. “I won't break.”
Suddenly, Zhongli bucks up beneath him. Hard. Baizhu is thrown forward by the force, scrambling to find something to hold on to. His hands settle on Zhongli’s shoulders, braced against his chest, forced to submit to the abrupt change in rhythm.
The sound of skin on skin fills the room alongside Baizhu's unrestrained moans.
Then hands close around his waist.
Zhongli has already broken free of the sash binding his wrists. Of course Baizhu should have known a simple length of fabric would not hold an Archon for too long, if at all.
His grip is firmer than usual, maybe even enough to bruise, and Baizhu revels in it, pain and pleasure blurring together.
One of Zhongli's hands inches lower, two fingers sliding into Baizhu alongside one of his cocks, while the other presses against him from behind.
“My love,” he says, curling his fingers. “Do you think you could take all of me?”
Baizhu's mind goes blank. He's always been fascinated by the thought of taking both of Zhongli's cocks at once, being filled impossibly full. But with how softly and gently Zhongli has treated him, he's always been too hesitant to say it out loud, afraid of being rejected.
Now, however, all he can manage is a chorus of yes, yes, yes, as Zhongli keeps him pinned in place, preparing him with slow, deliberate attention that leaves him increasingly undone.
“Hands on the headboard, my dear”, Zhongli says as he lifts Baizhu momentarily to reposition himself. Even that fleeting emptiness is too much, and he whimpers softly, hands clutching at the headboard.
But the emptiness does not last long, as Zhongli slowly pushes himself, all of himself, back inside. Whatever fullness Baizhu had felt before does not even begin to compare to the impossible stretch he's feeling now. He lets out a broken, almost pathetic moan as Zhongli guides him all the way down.
“Darling,” Zhongli breathes as Baizhu tightens around him, snug in his lap. He looks up, taking him in. Spent, breathless, and beautiful in a way that makes Zhongli ache.
He had been so careful with him until now, always gentle, as though Baizhu might break beneath anything more, never realizing what he had been quietly desiring all along.
“May I turn us over?” Zhongli asks, steady even in his breathlessness.
Baizhu gives a small, subtle nod.
Zhongli guides him carefully, hands firm at his waist as he repositions them. Baizhu yields easily in his grasp, body warm and pliant.
Zhongli resumes his earlier pace, thrusts deep and unrelenting. All Baizhu can do is cling to him, hands locked around his neck as he takes what he's being given. Sweat makes it difficult to find purchase; his grip slips, nails catching against Zhongli's skin.
He's too far gone to apologize. All he can think is more, more, more.
Every sound Baizhu makes draws Zhongli in further. Each broken breath, each unsteady sound that escapes without thought. There is no composure left to maintain now, only sensation, unraveling within him.
Baizhu clings to Zhongli like he is the only stable thing in the room, legs locked firmly around his waist.
“I'm close,” Zhongli breathes shakily. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside—please,” Baizhu gasps, barely getting the word out.
The answer undoes something in Zhongli. For a brief moment, he stills, only long enough to look at him.
Then Zhongli is kissing him, deep, consuming, as if he means to devour every last trace of distance between them, and Baizhu answers just as fiercely.
It is not gentle and there is no restraint left in it now, only the same unraveling that has overtaken them both. Baizhu moves his hands to Zhongli's hair, fingers tightening at the nape of his neck. He's close, so close, and though he so badly wants to draw it out, make it last longer, one well-angled thrust from Zhongli is enough to send him headfirst over the edge, orgasm washing over his body like a tidal wave.
Zhongli follows soon after, shuddering against Baizhu's trembling body, pressing as deep as he can before coming undone with a low moan, spilling warmth into him.
Baizhu feels languid and satisfied, taking a moment to just lay there and take it all in. Zhongli breathes heavily against his neck, cocks twitching as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Baizhu exhales slowly, fingers idly tracing against Zhongli's shoulders as tension drains from his body. They lay there, their uneven breaths the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.
“I should apologize,” Baizhu murmurs, breaking the silence.
“There is no need for apology,” Zhongli replies softly.
“If this is how you truly want me,” he adds, “you only need to say so.”
A soft silence settles between them. Neither of them moves to break it.