Chapter Text
Ajax sat in his chair as dignified as he could manage. His hair was forced up into a bun that was pulling his head uncomfortably, his wedding dress was cinching his waist to a painful degree and the chair, for some reason, was just too hard for his back. His sister would be better suited to this, but nevertheless, it was him who got hitched first.
Speaking of which, he side-eyed the teenager by his side. Morax. His husband. So awkward to say it . The man was an up-and-coming general in the army and was slowly securing a position and fiefdom for himself in the south. All impressive credentials. That being his social stature, the man himself was touted to be the most staunch, honest and upright person of character. Quite opposite to Ajax, but regardless, his dashing looks were mostly what was talked about. So he is the most eligible bachelor. Well, ex-bachelor.
Ajax smirked. The rumours were right. Even past the haziness of the veil, he was definitely quite dashing. Golden eyes that were trained on all of the guests invited by Ajax’s father. The man was clearly uncomfortable with the ridiculous number of furs coming from the South. But regardless, he maintained the most stoic of expressions throughout the ceremony.
But the tenseness in his eyes, the unwillingness , was apparent to Ajax. He was quite willing unlike his husband. He had an open mind. Surely a man who was strict to his knights would be just as kind to his wife. Arguably weak logic Ajax would admit though. He didn’t know much about the man personally. He knew only of what he had heard. He hadn’t even smelt his alpha for goodness’ sake! Curse these people . Maybe tonight would hold some surprises.
Childe circulated some water inside of his mouth to alleviate the boredom. It had become a habit for him after all, with his control over the element increasing by the day. Part of the reason why I’m getting married after all.
He was one of the rare hydro users of the north. And an exceptionally strong one at that. He manifested his powers at the tender age of three and for the past ten years had honed control of it to astounding levels. Catching the eye of the emperor, it was obvious that they wished to check the power of the north. Thus, the marriage of Ajax to the only Geo user outside the nobility.
It came with its pros and cons. Morax himself was a prodigy in the use of Geo. People sometimes speculated he was a lost God of Geo that had reincarnated and that he wielded power more than the Empress Ningguang. Only he can realise that potential because he’s an alpha .
That soured Ajax’s mood and his control loosened. Just because I’m an omega. Just-
“Ajax.” His father called sternly.
Ajax turned to his side with practised poise. “Yes father?”
“You seem distracted. Would you like to go and wait in the chambers for Lord Morax?”
Ajax shook his head. “I’m fine, father, thank you. Does My Lord wish to retire?”
Morax cleared his throat. “My Lady can retire if he wishes. I wish to discuss strategies with my knights for an upcoming campaign.”
Oh my that is a sinful voice. Also, that’s the most he’s spoken.
“The Dragon campaign I assume?” Father asked eagerly. Morax merely nodded, unwilling to give his father the information he wanted.
Ajax pursed his lips knowing it wouldn’t be seen behind the veil. There wasn’t an invite to join. It would seem that the south had a strict hierarchy even in marriage. Pity.
“Very well Father. Lord Morax, I shall await you in our chambers.” He said bowing his head slightly.
Morax whipped his head to his side and seemed a little disappointed. Had Ajax done something wrong in his eyes already? He thought it would have taken at least a day.
“Have I wronged you my Lord?” Better to clear misunderstandings.
“No.” Morax said flatly. “I shall meet you in our chambers.”
Ajax smiled and stood up, gaining the attention of the room and walked to the entrance and left.
As soon as he left, Ajax was manhandled into more seductive clothing for his first night. His veil and bun discarded for loose hair and bare make up. The tight corset and beautiful ball gown swapped for a loose tunic that had slits running along both sides. His scent was released from the talismans he wore on his necklace. Too much work for this
Ajax knew that tonight would be uneventful. It would not lead to anything. Morax didn’t seem very enthusiastic either, but Ajax wouldn’t jump to conclusions.
His hands itched for his bow as he waited for his alpha. He had just started weapons training in secret. And now it seemed he would have to continue. Morax didn’t seem like one who would let an omega wield weapons, let alone defend themselves.
The system disgruntled him more than Morax. Maybe it was equal? Why should Morax have to conform? Maybe-
The door banged open and Ajax was up on his feet with his hands behind him forming a water ball. It was Morax. Standing tall and lean without the traditional furs. Gold and brown robes that highlighted the beauty that was his physique. He stood still, eyes glowing gold and brown hair reflecting the dim candle light of the room.
“My Lord.” Ajax offered. He bowed deeply as he was taught about the south and used the distraction to dispel the water he had collected.
“Morax.” He growled out.
Ajax pursed his lips lightly. What was the need to growl? “Very well, Morax.” He tested.
Morax growled more. It was teetering towards an Alpha’s Voice and Ajax controlled the anger that was stuffing his chest. Was he not submissive enough?
Suddenly, the scent of an Alpha, the first he had ever smelled, hit him. It was overwhelmingly Morax. Bitter tea, old scrolls and hints of musk were mixed to create the most tantalizing scent he had ever encountered. Gulping lungfulls seemed too much yet not enough at the same time. He collapsed to his knees and promptly lost control of his omega.
The night progressed as well as it could with an Alpha and Omega unleashing their scents. With the Alpha uncontrollable and the Omega merely along for the ride. Luckily the maids had prepared his backside because he was sure that in the heat of things, his hole would have torn. Morax was too intense. He had caused pain for Ajax the first few times, but Ajax put up with it, slowly got used to it, and just as he began to get past the numbness pain conferred, he blacked out. Part of it was to do with the bite that was painfully forced onto his neck, but partly because, for the first time, Ajax had felt fear. Morax was a beast.
When Ajax woke up, he was alone. The bed was cold and he was alone. No scent remained neither did any clothing of his mate.
Did he just-
Anger welled up in his chest. When he met the man today, he was going to subtly tell him off. Could he maybe coax him into a spar? That way he would be more honest.
“What are you doing here? Get up already!” His step mother’s shriek sounded.
Ajax blinked. “Pardon? Was some ritual on the agenda today?”
The woman glared. “You have to go and help yourself to food. It's eleven.”
Ajax paled. I’m so late.
“Also, your father asked you to refrain from eating with him today.” The woman taunted.
“I haven’t eaten with him in years, woman.” Ajax commented wryly. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Oh but something has!” She said with wicked glee creeping into all of her features. “Your husband has left you! Didn’t he tell you? He left for the Dragon Campaign last night! He won’t be coming back for a long time. Hmph! Can’t even hold on to your newlywed husband. He wanted to get away-”
The old hag’s voice drowned in the ringing in his head and the throb of the mating mark on his shoulder.
Just like that, Ajax’s long fought freedom was stolen from him.
Ten Years Later:
Tartaglia sat down on the couch of his step-mother, waiting for her to give him the news. He knocked his boot clad feet on the ornate table and grinned as it irritated the hag further.
“Woman, now what?”
“It doesn’t give me any pleasure calling you as well Ajax.”
“Childe, thank you.”
The woman glared.
“What? I haven’t lived in these walls in a long-time woman. Now tell me why I need this?”
“Your Father-“ Tartaglia growled. Choose your words wisely. “…he has received news of a proposal from the imperial family for Lord Morax.”
Tartaglia held in the sheer panic he felt. Over the years he had come to terms with the longing he felt for Morax as an Omega and had moved on. The man had no decency to come and fetch his mate and he was now playing house with the imperial family?
Well, I had expected it. No Alpha can go that long without sex. And though he was tied to Morax, Morax was free to do whatever he wanted. It was even an accepted practice in the south. No doubt the royal family was his target. The man was now a decorated lord with the ‘killing of a dragon’ in his set of achievements.
Partly he was thankful for the distance. He wouldn’t have been able to train the skills he learnt in the Abyss outside and earn a name in his fief. ‘Mad Omega’ Tartaglia. Codename Childe. But he had to admit he was disappointed that Morax had not even bothered to check up on him.
“You need to sign the divorce papers.” The hag continued sipping her tea primly.
“I’ve mated and married the man, woman. A mate bond is not easily undone.” Tartaglia growled.
“But it is not possible. Fifteen years without renewal, right? Ten years have already passed.” She countered pushing papers towards him.
Tartaglia sighed. He was about to rebuff the woman before his father’s whip was heard and the door opened to reveal the terrifying visage.
Deep down, past the killer Childe, past the Tartaglia of the Abyss, past the teenager who fell in there, lay Ajax, trembling as his father whipped etiquette into him. Of all memories he had, this one caused him to tremble till today. He stood up, trembling.
“F-Father.”
“Insolent Omega, sign the papers.” He said cracking the whip. And as if he was a trained horse, Tartaglia sunk to his knees.
“Father please.” Don’t take my one chance at freedom.
“You still won’t?” The man growled in his Alpha Voice.
Tartaglia closed his eyes. Tight shut trying to defy the order. It was working. It was working so far until-
CRACK!
Searing pain shot over his back and Tartaglia collapsed in front onto the ground. It didn’t hurt, didn’t even turn red on his hardened skin, but neither did he have the guts to stop it. Old instincts screamed to just let the man complete his tirade and leave. New knowledge however had him wanting to stand up and see life drain out of the man’s body. But before he could get up and block the next whip strike, a growl came from the entrance of the room.
Tartaglia focused his fuzzy fear-addled eyes there only to find blazing golden eyes. The eyes that screamed murder. Eyes belonging to Morax. The angry scent of his mate was flooding the room forcing everyone to their knees. And so Tartaglia looked down. It was then that he noticed the ragged clothes of a commoner he had on. A torn tunic and pants that need to be mended in the future.
“WHAT. ARE YOU DOING. TO MY MATE.” Morax growled out.
Father scrambled on the floor. “N-Nothing my Lord!”
“You call whipping him in front of my very eyes nothing?”
Tartaglia merely eyed the man he called Father. Most people would assume he would call him by the man’s name, but to call him father served as a reminder for Tartaglia of what he should never be. His eyes drifted to his mate. Mate. A mate in only name. Yet here the man was defending him against Father.
“My Lord Morax.” Tartaglia offered. It was his attempt not to collapse at the voice of his mate in such anger. His Omega instinct was to appease him and offer his body to take his anger on, but he fought the instinct hard.
Morax’s eyes shifted to him with even more anger. And only one word came out as a greeting. “Weak.”
Tartaglia was now furious. And he was sure his scent showed it. But he smiled at Morax as much as he could. “Thank you, Lord Morax.”
That seemed to startle Morax more than his direct address. “You think I complimented you? Why didn’t you stop your father from hitting you?”
Tartaglia’s smile widened. I got under his skin. Good. “I know. But your weak mate,” The couple on the floor turned to him incredulously. But Tartaglia’s self-preservation knew that Morax was strong and it wouldn’t do to aggravate him…yet. “…was saved by you. I thank you for the timely rescue.”
Morax frowned in frustration. “Stand up.” He growled.
Tartaglia did so with a slight smile on his face that gave nothing away. “Yes, Lord Morax.”
That growl was back again. “Morax. Your mate.” He reminded. Ten years too late Morax.
“Very well…. Morax.” Tartaglia allowed.
Morax took in his form. “Why are you wearing such pathetic clothes?”
Tartaglia felt a little offended. They weren’t pathetic! He was in his work clothes! But he smiled. “I am wearing the clothes I usually wear, Morax.”
Morax’s eyes flared. Anger rushed into his scent in another wave. “Why do you wear these kinds of clothes?”
“Ah. I don’t live in the manor or palace anymore Lord- ah…. Morax.”
Morax’s eyes bled into blood red for a minute. “Why not.”
“I…” Tartaglia paused to find the right words. “…was not welcome in the household.”
“WHY. NOT.” Morax growled out at his Father.
“The past is the past my Lord.” Morax growled. “However, if I may be so bold, may I ask a question?”
Morax nodded.
“Thank you, My Lord. I merely wish to ask if the Dragon campaign that ended five years ago went well.”
Morax paused. Tartaglia dared to look at Morax for a second and found him stunned. A look of genuine confusion on his face.
“Did you not receive my letters? My angry summons? Anything?”
“Letters?” He thought out loud. He sent letters? That sent Morax into a worse state, the pheromones now getting stifling. The anger was directed at his Father and step-mother. Rock suddenly shot out of nowhere and a collar of geo was holding his father in the air.
“We sent him the-“
Tartaglia pursed his lips and shot a murderous look at his step-mother. “What did you hand to me today?” He kept his tone light and his eyes away from his mate just to make it seem as if he was genuinely confused. No one could smell his scent beside Morax and he was bound to not notice in his fit of rage.
“Say the truth.” Morax growled using his Alpha voice. Tartaglia didn’t resist.
“Divorce papers for Lord Morax and Ajax.” They all echoed.
Morax’s eyes burned bright yellow.
“In my entire life…” He began with a growl. Tartaglia knew at this point it was time to intervene. The pressure of Geo would slowly destroy this mansion.
“Morax?”
No answer.
Tartaglia cleared his throat and tried louder. “Morax!”
That seemed to snap the man out of the barrage of rocks that had collected behind him. Tartaglia couldn’t help but be impressed. His husband was truly strong. Worthy.
“I am thankful that you fight on my behalf, but I find this unnecessary.”
Morax’s anger was now directed to him. His Omega wanted to buckle under the pressure, but he merely managed a weak smile. He didn’t need others killing them for him. He merely needed to know what the man thought of him.
“I apologise for overstepping boundaries. But I am feeling rather weak after today’s…events. I would like to retire-“
“Where?”
Tartaglia paused. “I own a house now. In the city. Near the walls. Not very far. Just signed the lease a month ago.”
Morax frowned further.
“But I wish to ask you, My Lord Morax…if you wish to continue staying married to me?”
Morax’s scowl merely increased. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Tartaglia nodded in understanding. The imperial family wished for an alliance and Morax had refused. So, they came through his family. Quickly thinking of an excuse, Tartaglia continued ignoring the high blush on his face.
“I remember Lord Morax being…. absent after our wedding night and-“ Morax coughed.
A muffled laugh was also heard in the corridor but Tartaglia ignored it. “I wondered if I had done anything to anger your Highness.”
Tartaglia spoke past the knot in his chest. It had been a huge problem that his father sought to fix in him and blamed that night as he whipped him for days.
“N-No. I-It was enjoyable.”
Tartaglia paused and looked up to his mate and saw him blush. One would think that any warm feeling would appear, but relief flooded his being along with a bone deep cold. I was abandoned for some other reason it would seem.
“Then I wish my lord good rest as it is evening. I suppose we are going to discuss the future later?”
Morax growled. I’m getting tired of this.
“Stay with me tonight. Ajax.”
That made Tartaglia pause. How long had it been since someone called his name? And with the authority his mate did? Years. Years of uselessly wishing he would come back. Tartaglia shut down the notion.
“Very well. Morax. May I know where your quarters are?”
“I’m staying in an inn near the outskirts of the city.” Morax said striding towards him. He came into Tartaglia’s personal space and Tartaglia let him. There was no reason not to.
Tartaglia smiled and nodded.
“M-My Lord! We shall prepare-“
The two knights who had been hiding outside the room came in and swiftly knocked out the two old people.
Tartaglia observed them. One was quite short for a man and had with him a spear. His pheromones were hiding quite well. Another was a female alpha with horns on her head.
“Lord Morax. Ahem. Lord Consort. Shall we get moving to our lodging?” The female alpha offered.
Morax nodded resolutely and grabbed Tartaglia’s hand as he made way through the streets.
Wolf-whistles followed Tartaglia as he made his way to the inn. He was quite famous as the local fixer. Partly also because he was relatively rich in his own savings. Even the inn manager sent them up with a wink and shoved some vials of oil into Tartaglia’s hand.
The blush on both their cheeks didn’t abate at all.
Morax took him inside the cosy room. And sat him down on the bed with stiff movements. Then he sat down next to him. Awkward and stiff. Adorable
“It isn’t opulent. I apologise.” Morax offered.
Tartaglia gave a light huff. “It's fine. It’s like my house in the city.” An uncomfortable pause. “Would you like to visit?”
“Sure!” Morax jumped at the opportunity.
Tartaglia gave him a small smile in thanks. He hadn’t found anyone to share the happiness with in his immediate circles.
“Have you progressed in your studies of the Hydro element?” Morax offered.
Tartaglia nodded. Vaguely agree, Childe. Show him a fancy trick.
He spun a flower out of vapor in the air and balanced it on his finger adding as many details as he could. He looked at Morax who seemed enchanted by the flower and was reaching out to it.
“You can touch it. I can maintain it for a very long time.” Years in fact .
“With such control, you would have got employment under any mage.” Morax prompted.
“Thank you Morax…” Tartaglia began. He had to tread carefully. “…but I couldn’t. I’m an Omega.”
Morax nodded in understanding. Bullshit man. I could take any mage any time. These people are such annoyances. I want to be a warrior. There was a hint of disappointment in Morax’s eyes, but he didn’t say much.
“Morax-“
“Ajax-“
They both turned to each other at that instant and stared into each other’s eyes. Too close. Close enough to feel the cold emanating from their noses and the contrasting hot breath on each other’s lips. Tartaglia merely remained still, flashbacks of an overwhelmingly painful night running in his mind. Was today going to be the same?
Regardless he would take it. It was nothing compared to the pain he felt in the Abyss and it wasn’t going to be as bad as the hours of training he put in. Anything for freedom.
Morax seemed to have reached a similar decision because the man’s eyes became incredibly soft. It was uncharacteristic. He averted eyes, unable to take the fondness in them just yet. But that seemed to break the spell their eyes were in and Morax surged forward to meet his lips.
Not having kissed anyone in a long time, Tartaglia merely closed his eyes shut firmly and tried to grip Morax not knowing what to do. Even the kiss seemed a little too forced. And too innocent.
“M-Morax? I-I haven’t- I m-mean- n-not since-“ Crap. Why am I stuttering now ?
“Neither have I.” Morax divulged sheepishly.
Tartaglia didn’t smell any lies. No guilt in his scent. How did he manage?
Morax slowly got up and stood in between Tartaglia’s legs. He started methodically taking off his clothes. Taking the cue, Tartaglia also started undressing himself. His eyes roved every inch of skin, and from the angle, he saw the lines of his erection in his underwear, the trail of hairs that made its way down his sinful abdomen and chest and piercing eyes peering down at him from above an angular jaw and nose. Morax was truly quite the specimen. Tartaglia was also no less of a specimen, girls swooned seeing him still. But he always felt the scars were unsightly. Now, on Zhongli, he understood the beauty of them. They marred his broad shoulders and thin waist but they were quite attractive. Fetching even. He wanted to map every inch of them with his tongue.
Once they were completely naked, arousals on display, he decided to broach the topic.
“M-Morax I-I I need to p-prepare?”
Morax cocked his head. Curious and confused.
Tartaglia blushed. He was honestly fine beheading people, but sex was something that he never really understood. Years on the streets got him used to knowledge of the act, but nothing prepared him for this.
“D-down there. Stretching.” He mumbled softly.
He couldn’t look up into Morax’s eyes, but he felt him go stock still.
“Teach me.”
That froze him. EH?
“L-lord Morax-“
“Morax.”
“F-fine, M-Morax. I-I only produce slick during h-heats. I-I need to stretch…t-that if you are going to in-insert it…Otherwise it will tear.” He got out blushing.
Suddenly, he was manhandled to the centre of the bed. Morax was towering over him, entranced.
“You didn’t do it last time.”
Tartaglia was never going to stop blushing tonight, was he? He hid his face in his hands. “I-I did it, b-before you entered.” And it wasn’t enough at all.
Morax’s scent suddenly let loose an aroused Alpha which flooded the room. Tartaglia whimpered, breathing deeply. The scent was bringing out his long-suppressed Omega. He had gotten used to sleeping with his necklace on for nights and his heats. It eased the pain considerably.
“M-My n-necklace.” Tartaglia stuttered out. “It s-stops my scent. Take it o-out.” The last part was a whine of his own as the need to reciprocate the enthusiasm hit him. He never knew how much he needed this intimacy. It shocked him how right it felt. True, many women and men had fawned over him all over the years, but nothing took his fancy like this even outside pheromones.
Suddenly the latch was broken and the necklace was hurled to the side. He blearily opened his eyes to see Morax almost in a daze – eyes bleary and unfocused and mouth hanging open. Even in such a state, he was a sight to see. Tartaglia couldn’t help but preen at the fact that his scent had caused this.
“Wh-what does it s-smell like t-to you?”
Morax’s eyes flashed red and he closed his eyes and buried his face in Tartaglia’s neck and began scenting him.
“The most incredible lemongrass tea.” Morax began softly. Tartaglia hummed. He didn’t know how enticing that was, but with Morax’s head on his shoulder, he was directly presented with Morax’s scent gland. And that’s all his mind was occupied with. His scent
“-and the scent of fresh water. So clear, I can picture spending the day by a river side.” His voice was so gruff as if he was holding back biting.
My My…isn’t he a charmer.
Tartaglia blushed and just reluctantly pushed him. Golden eyes flared in hurt. So honest.
“I-I n-need to pre-prepare-“ He reasoned and tried to sit up.
His hands were suddenly pressed into the mattress on the sides of his head. A hint of genuine fear entered his system. Even I couldn’t have stopped that. Morax was really strong. His hands wouldn’t budge and Tartaglia knew that even if he had used all of his strength it would have been useless.
That was arousing.
He blushed and turned away. Morax came to breath in his scent gland again. “I told you to show me Ajax.”
Tartaglia stifled a whimper and nodded enthusiastically. The tingle of Morax’s breath on his neck had him wriggling anyway.
“L-let me get o-il? Please?” He gasped out.
“Hmmm. So sensitive, mate.” Morax muttered. The last part, almost to himself.
“Whose fault is that?” Tartaglia retorted. He was almost going to say sorry when he saw Morax grin with sharp teeth glistening.
“ Only mine. ”
Tartaglia resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the typical Alpha behaviour but instead, frowned.
“So? L-Let me go?”
Morax frowned as well, but let him go. Tartaglia rushed to where his pants were. The ones in which the innkeeper had kept oil vials. He brought the oil and sat on the bead, against the headboard with Morax in front of him. It was quite embarrassing seeing Morax stare at him, as if he were prey. He remembered nothing but pain and sensations on their first night but to actually see him, did fill him with a sense of pride. I’m attractive.
Silently, he spread his legs and Morax’s attention went down there. Tartaglia ignored the stare, that was getting almost unhinged at that point, and coated three fingers with oil and got work. He tried to make it look clinical, but it was impossible with Morax staring at it hungrily. He pushed a finger and arched his back so it would go in further. Where was that spot? He added another finger and pumped it in and out trying different angles. The stretch was now slowly getting bearable after all.
“What are you searching for?”
Tartaglia’s eyes, which had fluttered shut at some point, opened wide. He blinked at Morax who was still staring at his hole hungrily. His Alpha’s cock was erect and painfully so, and yet he stared at the hole patiently gripping the sheets.
Cute.
“M-My prostate-“
“Can I try?” Morax asked.
Tartaglia’s blush rose to his ears and down his chest. This had escalated faster than he had imagined.
“I-If you want to…” He said.
Morax immediately was showing his hand for some oil and Tartaglia couldn’t help but be touched. He poured oil on the thick, scarred hands and slicked them up and directed them to the hole.
He never realised how thick Morax’s hands were until one was inserted in and he groaned at the stretch.
“Hurting?”
Tartaglia shook his head. The finger moved in and out rhythmically, reaching farther inside than he could ever reach. He tried to help by wiggling his hips and canting them in sync and that seemed to encourage his mate to continue.
“Another.” Tartaglia asked. “Please?”
Morax growled and another was put in slowly and pumped in and out with growing impatience.
“Spread it o-pen. Like scissors.” Tartaglia instructed slowly, and gaining confidence. Morax gave a last push of the fingers and Tartaglia suddenly froze as pleasure spiked. His mouth dropped open in a wordless gasp
“Did I hurt you?” Morax’s urgent voice came.
“So good.” Tartaglia whispered. He was still feeling that tingling sensation.
“I found it right? Can we begin?”
“T-three fingers!” Tartaglia squeaked. Never knew I was capable of that “I can’t ta-take you after just scis-scissoring! Y-You’re big!”
Morax’s eyes widened and he blushed looking to the side. But the fingers continued and slowly a third was added. It hurt a little, but not that much. Morax was doing well for his first time. Tartaglia gasped as Morax found that spot almost immediately again.
“God your smell…You emit such a fragrance when you are aroused.” Morax growled.
“O-oh?”
The three fingers were pulled out and Tartaglia braced himself as Morax drew closer, pumping his massive erection.
“Like petrichor. And water that had just a hint of berries and lime.” He whispered.
As he spoke, Morax eased himself in and Tartaglia tried his level best to adjust. Morax was going achingly slow and Tartaglia was slowly getting impatient. He forced his hips up to meet Morax's, only to gasp at the stretch.
“You’re b-big.” He gasped.
“Breathe Ajax…. slowly…. we can do this slowly.” Morax soothed.
Ajax growled. His Omega wanted fast and hard. It was frustrating wanting two things at the same time. Finally, instinct won over and he pushed his hips up completely till it met Morax’s.
He paused for a moment. Overwhelmed by the connection it sparked in his chest and the firm press of the tip on his prostate.
Suddenly, a deep rumble of a waking beast resonated through his partner and he looked up at his mate.
Golden glowing eyes were sporting an unhinged look as he gripped Tartaglia by the hips and sat on his haunches.
“Why do you always insist on riling me up?” Morax bit out.
Tartaglia would have answered something, anything really, if he was not subjected to the most excruciating movement out, and an impossibly hard thrust in right to his prostate.
He moaned out long and loud and the feeling and looked at Morax who was decidedly pleased and cocky. Tartaglia glared and clenched down on him hard. Morax groaned and he collapsed on top of Tartaglia and rested his head on the omega’s chest.
“Move Morax.” Tartaglia rasped.
That seemed to snap the man into action as Tartaglia was then shown no remorse. He and Morax fell into an instinctual rhythm that jostled him like a rag doll. As if he were a mere fleshlight for Morax. The precision with which thrusts hit his prostate was the opposite of what so many women had described. This was powerful, overwhelming ,and so, so, pleasurable.
All Tartaglia could do was hold onto his husband and push his hips back a little. That was the only sanity Morax had left for him. He couldn’t control his mouth either, babbling Morax’s name and a litany of ‘please’, ’more’, ’too much’, and ‘don’t stop’. It was reaching a crescendo at a steady pace, as if Morax was prolonging the pleasure.
Childe tried his best to stave his orgasm and wait for Morax to come together.
“C-close? Ah- Ah- Mmf-“
“Yessssss.” Morax’s hiss came.
Tartaglia’s pitch was rising until finally, his body stuttered, and he felt white hot pleasure in every pose of his body. Then, a sharp pain rose from his scent gland as fangs pierced it once again. With the flood of hot fluids in his most private canal, he promptly passed out.
Morning rays brought Tartaglia a very familiar ache as he opened his eyes and assessed his surroundings. An ache of having your muscles stretched to the maximum. That was strange though. I would remember a good fight.
Then, memories of last night came flooding in and his whole face lit up in red. Until a thought occurred.
Morax. Will he be there this time?
A bone-deep sadness permeated his being and he tried to get up such that he could avoid looking. It wouldn’t matter to him. No. It wouldn’t.
But a large hand on his naked waist was not letting him even budge an inch.
I suppose that has been answered.
Tartaglia was sure he was blushing, especially when he wriggled and found that his thighs were painted with oozing fluids. He twisted in the grip to glare but was met with a sleeping Morax.
What was normally the face of consternation, focus and alertness was substituted for the absolute divine looks of his relaxed face. The frown lines were gone and the tousled hair draped his neck and a little of his face. There was a serene smile on thin and kissable lips.
I’ve really hit the jackpot, haven’t I?
“No wonder the court loves you.” Tartaglia mumbled as he pressed the tip of the sharp nose.
“Oh?”
Tartaglia froze as those lips moved. Lazily, one golden eye opened and then another. As golden sun rays reflected on those eyes, they danced, almost teasing Tartaglia. He was lost for a moment there.
“Hah?” He got out.
“The court loves me? Why ever do you think so, mate?” Morax rasped out.
Sweet lord his morning voice is sex on legs.
“Ah. Um. Y-you see you are-“
“I’m taken.” Was all Morax said as he hugged Tartaglia further in and tucked him into his chest. If that didn’t warrant a smug smirk on the Omega’s part, he didn’t know what did.
“You smell like me. I like it.” Morax commented.
Tartaglia buried his face into the strong chest and just went “Oh.”
“Hmmmmm. You were smelling like other scents yesterday. It drove me mad.”
“That’s why you were frowning? You weren’t exactly clean, you know.”
A deep sigh. “Where did my sweet stuttering angel from last night vanish off to?”
“He’s been replaced by me. Tough luck.”
“Hmmmm. This is not too bad either.”
“Oh? Pray tell Morax, why is it so?”
“At least Lord Morax doesn’t come out of your mouth anymore.”
“I can start if you don’t stop.”
“Yes mate.” A kiss on the top of his head. “Anything you say.”
Tartaglia blushed again. “Stop it.”
“What have I done, mate?”
“You want me to blush. Where did my blushing boy from last night go huh?” He grumbled as he looked up at the chiselled jaw and smug smirk.
“He has been replaced by me. Tough luck.”
“Make your own retorts.”
“Why should I when you make them so well mate?”
Tartaglia merely grumbled and bit the chest in front of him.
“OW!” Morax yelled.
“Serves you right.” He groused, kissing the chest in apology.
That got hands roving the scarred landscape of his back quite quickly. Tartaglia allowed it, luxuriating in the feel of the fingers massaging his sore back. The naughty hands then made their way to his sticky hole and Tartaglia looked up, panicked and stuttered his hips, unsure of whether to push back or not. Luckily, it was answered quickly when Morax bucked his hips up and it rubbed their morning reactions together.
“Early in the morning?” Tartaglia asked worriedly. He hadn’t heard of this! None of the brothel women told him about things in the daylight!
Morax grinned down. “Why not?”
“Because-“
Suddenly, the door was banged on quite loudly. Morax got out a knife from underneath the pillow, and Tartaglia was ready, although very subtly, with a water needle.
“Zhongli get up! It's eleven o’clock and we need to leave!” A grumpy voice came. They relaxed. It wasn’t a threat.
“That name?” Tartaglia repeated.
Morax averted his eyes in embarrassment. “I spent a year undercover where I met Xiao. I went by the name Zhongli. Most people still call me that.”
“Like people in the city call me Childe.” Tartaglia offered.
“Hmm. Suits you.”
“So does Zhong-“
“ZHONGLI HAUL YOUR ASS OUT HERE NOW!”
That cut their conversation short. Morax got out of bed, initially buck naked, and then grabbed his pants and opened the door. Tartaglia covered himself with the sheets and turned his back on the door, pretending to sleep.
“Shameless!” The man at the door tutted.
“Let me have my time. I haven’t met him in years. I miss him.”
Tartaglia bit his lip to prevent an I missed you too.
“It reeks here. So does your mate. Change and come out. The knights are wondering why you’re late.”
“They’ll know. Word must have spread by now.”
Tartaglia blushed red into the sheets.
“Childe.” Tartaglia whipped his head and turned to Zhongli who was smiling. “I like that name best.”
Tartaglia smirked. “Don’t wear it out on your tongue, Zhongli.”
“As much as I care about foreplay, you guys need to get going. We need to go to the fief. Jueyun Karst.” Xiao hissed, blushing.
Tartaglia lay on his back, exposing the bruises on his arm and the fresh mating mark on his neck with a laugh, and gave a thumbs up to Xiao. “Now unless you want Mr. Zhongli there to tear out your eyeballs, you best leave me and my mate alone while we change.”
Xiao’s blush furthered down his neck and Zhongli’s deep rumble of a laugh sounded. “My mate speaks sense Xiao. You best get things ready. I shall take a shower and come down.”
“Please do.” Xiao said, pinching his nose. Then he strode out, shutting the door behind him.
“Sly minx.” Zhongli praised. “You know how to speak to everyone, don’t you?”
Childe shrugged, however much he could, lying down. “I’m not just good at speaking, you know.” He threw in a wink.
“I intend to know what else.” Zhongli commented carefully.
They knew each other had secrets, but they knew they needed each other and knew that there was sincerity in the relationship. Even if it took years, they would come to understand each other. Slowly but surely.