Chapter Text
“I'm going to Inazuma tomorrow.”
Childe blinks. He can hardly do anything else, with the way Scara is sat on top of him, hands on his neck, keeping him in place with more strength than someone his size should have.
He got tired of always fucking him in the hot spring. What was the point- the novelty was always bound to wear off, and he's the type who gets bored so easy- so he sat by the sliding door, waiting for Scara to come home from yet another appointment, and yanked him straight into sex as soon as he crossed the threshold. Scaramouche had yelled, elbowed him in the face more than a few times, but Childe dragged him down to the floor and got inside of him all the same.
He was warm wet velveteen on his dick and it drove Childe as crazy as his pussy always did. Sweet tight little thing he wanted to drown in- but getting his cock in it wasn't bad. After he fucked him through two orgasms, thank you very much, Scara had twisted around enough to kick at his chest, somehow switching their positions.
Hence, hands around his throat.
This was good too. This is what he always wanted- or at least some part of his dick wanted. Scaramouche's small hands cutting his circulation off. His sharp nails breaking skin in a way that's going to bruise for weeks.
The weird thing- the reason why he blinked- was that Scara rarely tells him what he actually does, outside of this house. They don't talk much- there are better things to be doing- but still.
“Why?” It comes out so raspy and broken, Scaramouche laughs like he's giddy. Like Childe didn't just fuck him while he screamed.
“Why? Because her highness says I have too.”
He meant- why are you telling me- but Scara seems so bizarrely energized by it, he's not going to correct him. Childe couldn't, either way. Not with his throat as fucked as it was. Oh- oh that was an idea.
“Congrats-” He barely manages. “Let's- fuck-” He coughs and the hands squeeze down harder. “Let's celebrate.”
And with the remainder of his strength, rolls his lower body up like a jackknife, knees nudging Scara forward until he loses his balance from the surprise, tilting over him. It's kind of a miracle Childe doesn't lose his head in that moment. There was very little stopping Scara from popping it like a grape right there.
Hot.
Scara's belly is on his face now, and Childe gives it a few kisses before Scara can right himself. He rushes to grab his hips and pull him forward, all the way onto his face.
There's his darling pussy again, soft and flushed and dripping Childe's cum out of it.
Before Scaramouche can complain, he shoves his tongue right in.
Scara yelps- hands flying to Childe's hair and pulling so hard he sees stars.
“Sorry.” He mumbles between licks and sucks. “Too sensitive?”
“One- fuck- shit- one of these- gods damn it- one of these days you're going to fucking rot- f-fuck- you're- gods- you're going to rot and I'll s-stand over you and laugh-- there- there- there-!” It devolves into gasping shuddering whines, and Childe hums with his tongue inside of him.
He's achingly blindingly hard. His right hand leave's Scara's hip and he fucks his fist with a deranged abandonment. Scara comes, all but shrieking, pushing out more and more of his cum into Childe's mouth and he's peaked really. He thinks he's peaked. Yeah, fighting a god would be nice, but this? This moment? What is ever going to top it?
He keeps eating him out with out reprieve, Scara pulling on his hair and kicking and gasping out death threats that get more and more creative the more oversensitive he gets. Childe comes again. He doesn't stop until he gives Scara two more orgasms and makes sure he's nice and clean, inside and out. By the time he's just licking Scara's slick off of his thighs, Scara's crying.
Big fat salty tears slip down his face and into his shaking hands.
What a picture.
Childe lets go of his hip and Scara doesn't even move, so Childe nudges him back to rest against Childe's bent knees. He sits up and Scara is still catching his breath in his lap, so Childe takes his hands and licks his tears up too.
“You taste so good.” Childe says and Scara, despite the tears, and the everything, gives him a look that makes him fear for his life. His dick twitches.
“Fuck you.”
“You're going to Inazuma tomorrow?” He asks again, grinning. He knows what a mess he must look, but that only makes it better. Scara nods, body still shuddering from time to time. Like he's the one that got hit with lightning.
“Yeah.” He says, and shoves his hands into Childe's chest. They travel up to his shoulders, and he grabs on, trying to use him as leverage for when he stands. His legs crumple under him and Childe can't help the short bark of a laugh that rips out of him.
“Baby.” Childe says and kisses the chest at his eye level. He mostly left his nipples alone today, but he can make up for that now, pecking at one and then the other and then the twisting beautiful scars beneath them. “Darling. Sweetheart.”
“You're a fucking wastoid.”
“My sweet little boy.”
“I hope you get gangrene and your dick falls off in front of you. I hope you get to watch someone flay you alive. I hope you get trapped on a sinking ship and slowly die of hypothermia while all of your skin bloats and freezes in the salt water and your last moments are spent suffocating on stale air.”
“Precious little angel.” He chirps and goes to kiss his mouth.
Scaramouche bites through his lip and spits the blood back into his mouth.
Childe's never been more in love.
…
“Sorry, what?” Childe asks, because he couldn't have possibly have heard Pierro right.
“La Signora is dead. Destroyed by the Electro Archon. All Inazuman production on delusions has ceased. Scaramouche has escaped with the Gnosis.” Yeah yeah yeah, all that boring shit- What?
“What do you mean-”
“I mean escaped.” Pierro says, because he knows what Childe's like and what Childe's into because of course he does. “Gone. We don't have eyes on him. Her Majesty has, in her infinite wisdom, dictated that you go and retrieve him, along with the Gnosis. Clear?”
Childe blinks, because what else can he really do.
“Y-yeah. Clear.”
“Your ship will be leaving tomorrow. Be discreet. No one needs to know where you are, least off all Scaramouche. Clear?”
“Clear.” He says.
He thinks back a week ago, when Scaramouche had told him he was going to Inazuma with an edge of pride. Thinks back to how happy he seemed when Childe had seen him off to the docks. A hand reaches up to touch his bruised, ruined neck. The scarf can only hide so much.
“The state funeral is in three weeks. Try and drag him back here by then. If you can't, don't miss it. Clear?”
“Clear, yes sir.”
“Good.” Pierro says. “You're dismissed.” Childe turns to leave the man's office but is stopped just as he opens the door. “Childe, do not disgrace us. Do not have... too much fun. Clear?”
Childe spins on his heels and thinks about the gift that he's been given.
He smiles so wide his mouth hurts.
“Clear!”