Work Text:
“I didn’t think that it would get this cold in Natlan,” Childe says. He nudges the front door open with his foot, and his arms are full of chopped wood. Cacucu is carrying his own load of wood, never one to be left out of an important task, and Childe can feel each flap of his wings against his hair. Childe playfully blows air back at the rotund Saurian’s little wings.
“I didn’t think that you would find this weather anything close to cold,” Ifa counters, raising a brow at Childe as he adds his armful of firewood to the pile beside Ifa’s fireplace. “I’m surprised that you aren’t on your nonsense about how in Snezhnaya, this is a warm spring day, and the true cold is frightening.”
“Not frightening,” Childe laughs, dropping into a squat on the carpet beside Ifa. “You just have to keep moving or else your blood is liable to freeze and you’ll die.”
“Dying is crazy,” Ifa counters, rolling his eyes.
Childe nudges Ifa with his elbow before dropping a kiss to his cheek. “Do I really sound like that? All the same—it’s not untrue. Morespoke gets freezing, and the only time where you are safe to sit still is when you’re ice fishing.”
“Ice fishing is still one of the craziest things I have ever heard,” Ifa says. He strikes a flint expertly, and Pyro leaps off the stone to set the logs alight. “Can’t imagine just sitting on my ass on the ice to fish, of all things.” He pauses, turning his head to press a kiss to his jaw. “I’d do it with you, though. Wanna know why you like it so much.”
Ifa, born and raised in hot, sunny Natlan in the Flower Feather Clan with their fiery Qucusaurs, being willing to sit on ice in fish in the freezing Snezhnayan air warms Childe’s heart, and he can’t help but pull Ifa into a deep kiss. Childe likes ice fishing because his dad took him and his brothers together, but sharing it with Ifa will mean something entirely different. He’ll learn about Childe’s childhood and culture, and Childe is determined to fuck him in a rental fishing cabin to reward his love and care.
“What did I do to deserve that?” Ifa whispers against Childe’s lips. His smile feels lovely against Childe’s, and Childe gently pushes him down onto the woven carpet. “I just agreed to some ice fishing in the future…”
“Yeah, but that’s important to me, and I love that. And,” Childe says, licking his lips and nipping at Ifa’s full upper lip. “You know… We can warm up faster if we fuck right here in front of the fireplace.”
Ifa laughs. His strong hands squeeze Childe’s thighs as Childe straddles him, and warmth pools in Childe’s stomach at the head radiating from Ifa’s hooded eyes.
“You’re always horny from the weirdest shit, bro. Like when you licked my scars—I didn’t even get them in a special or gruesome way. Just from doing my job and takin’ care of the animals in my care.”
“And that is so sexy of you,” Childe laughs, grinning rakishly down at Ifa. He rolls their hips together, relishing in the choked sound that rips from Ifa’s lips before Cacucu squawks.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”
Oops. Childe forgot that the little rotund Saturnian was there.
“Sorry, dude,” Ifa says, his voice simultaneously rough with arousal and rich with amusement. “But, I need you to scram. We’ll see you later, bro.”
“See ya later!” Cacucu squawks again, and Childe watches the little guy flap away and make himself scarce. Childe resolves to get Cacucu the best Saurian crackers that he can find.
Later, though, he has more pressing things to attend to.
“One day, Cacucu is going to rebel against us,” Ifa chuckles softly, pulling Childe into another kiss, and guiding their hips together in a luxurious and slow grind. It feels decadent, their bodies moving together as the fire crackles cheerfully at their sides.
Sex and foreplay with Ifa are always the highlights of Childe’s days, but their bodies, always warm and fitting together perfectly, loosen up faster with the heat of the fireplace. He needs them to pick up the pace and do it fast.
It’s sickeningly domestic, though, and Childe never thought that he would find the monotony of domesticity as arousing as he does right now. He sighs contentedly as Ifa grabs his ass—softer from the floor that Ifa and the Flower Feather Clan shove at him for being ‘too skinny’ and ‘looking just like a calaca’, putting their bodies flush together.
“Fuck, Ifa…”
“I’m tryna fuck you, baby,” Ifa whispers with a laugh in his voice. Childe huffs in annoyance, biting Ifa’s lower lip and tugging at it hard enough to draw blood, sharp canines deadly. “You’re making it kinda hard for me, y’know.”
“Makin’ you kinda hard, you mean?” Childe punctuates his taunt with a hard roll of his hips, pushing their cocks together in a delicious slide. “Stop taking your sweet ass time and get me naked already.”
Ifa snorts, but he doesn’t fight Childe on his demand, making quick work of freeing them both from their clothing until the only sources of warmth they have are their own body heat and the fire at Childe’s left side.
This is perfect, though. Childe wouldn’t want it any other way.
Their cocks slide together, the slick heads easing the slide, and Childe swallows down Ifa’s shuddering moan. There is no one around to hear them here, but Childe is a selfish man who wants to keep Ifa’s delectable pleasure to himself: Ifa’s moans are for Childe’s lips and ears alone, and Childe is reluctant to share it with the very air that they breathe.
“I need you inside of me,” he whispers, curling a calloused hand around both of their cocks and stroking them clumsily. “Right now, if possible.”
“You’re so coherent,” Ifa huffs. His hips jerk up into Childe’s loose grip, and their moans shudder out together. “Are you already prepped or somethin’?”
Childe grins rakishly, his eyes dark as they grind together at a tantalizing pace. The friction is so good and drives him crazy; it’s too good. Too good.
“You are,” Ifa whispers, his eyes wide as he watches Childe lick his lips hungrily. “You were chopping wood after fucking yourself open?”
‘I didn’t have a plug in, so it’s not like I was really going through trials and tribulations,” Childe says easily. He gathers Hydro in his palm, stroking the length of Ifa’s cock before lifting onto his knees, lining the head of Ifa’s cock to his hole and sinking inch by deliciously wide inch.
“Fuck,” they sweat in tandem, and a pleased shudder rushes down Childe’s spine as Ifa’s hands shoot up to grab Childe’s waist to keep him still.
Childe’s waist isn’t small enough that Ifa’s hands meet in the middle, but Ifa’s hands are still large and deliciously calloused before they squeeze his skin hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises on his freckled skin.
Good, Childe thinks as his ass finally meets the scarred tops of Ifa’s thighs, exactly how he likes it.
“You always stretch me out so good,” Childe sighs, chuckling as Ifa squeezes his hips with an annoyed suck of his teeth. “You fill me all the way up until I can feel you in my throat.”
“Archons, shut up.” Ifa rolls his hips up until all of the nonsense that could come out of Childe’s mouth filters off into a loud man. “Just be a good boy and take my cock like you’re supposed to.”
It’s rare for Ifa to talk well and truly dirty, and Childe is delighted to have coaxed such filth from Ifa’s lips. It’s always easier to drive Ifa crazy when they’re fucking in unusual places, like it brings out some hidden, horny demon out of Ifa, and Childe loves how it makes Ifa fuck him with abandon.
It isn’t long until the sound of the merrily crackling fire is punctuated with the lewd sound of skin smacking together and their combined filthy moans. Childe bounces in Ifa’s lap, his chest heaving as his wet cock slaps against his abdomen, leaving messy, slick trails of pre-cum along his flushed skin.
He feels drunk, like when he and Ifa shared a restaurant-sized bottle of Fire Water, and had their first messy tumble in the sheets, but Child is fully lucid now and properly appreciates the sheen of sweat covering their skin from their fucking, and the heat from the fireplace. The way they move together is intoxicating, and he relishes Ifa’s moans as Childe crashes their lips together in a heated kiss that’s more teeth than tongue.
Metallic heat fills Childe’s mouth, and he sucks eagerly at Ifa’s split lower lip to pull more blood from the wound.
Their bodies are drenched with sweat by the time Childe shouts as Ifa curls his hand around his angry red cock, stroking him from root to tip at the same time he thrusts right into Childe’s swollen prostate.
Ifa bullies the swollen bundle of nerves, each thrust as vicious as it is delicious, and Childe spills over his abs with a warbling cry of Ifa’s name and a desperate plea for Ifa not to stop fucking him. Childe loves to be pushed over the edge and be fucked within an inch of his life until he’s fighting Ifa off in the Electro-filled afterglow.
Childe’s breath leaves him in a rush as Ifa flips him onto his back and starts to fuck him in earnest, hiking his hips up and guiding Childe’s legs around his waist.
“You always get so tight after you cum,” Ifa says, his rasping voice pulling a shuddering moan from Childe as hands curl tight around his thighs. “Taking me like a good boy…”
Childe has never told Ifa expressly that he has a thing for praise, but Ifa plays the latent kink masterfully. Childe claws at Ifa’s shoulders, barely breathing as he takes every bit of pleasure Ifa gives him like a good boy.
“Ifa, please, please—“ Childe sobs. His eyes roll back as Ifa twists his wrist around the weeping head of Childe’s cock at the same time he aims a deadly thrust into Childe’s swollen prostate.
Childe’s vision whites out, and he almost passes out as he cums again, thighs trembling as Ifa fills him to the brim with his own cum.
“Fuck, Ajax,” Ifa pants, his lips brushing against the red shell of Childe’s ear, grinding into Childe’s prone body to ride out the high of his own orgasm. “Holy shit…”
Childe always loves it when Ifa says his given name during sex, and he strokes his fingers down Ifa’s arm as his chest heaves.
“You look so hot all sweaty ‘n shit,” Childe says breathlessly, his grin lazy and lopsided as Ifa’s hips finally slow to a stop. “We should fuck in front of the fireplace more often.”
“We absolutely should not do this shit again: I’m hot as hell right now,” Ifa huffs, carefully laying down against Childe’s chest despite the cooling, sticky cum covering their stomachs. It’s gross, but Childe has dealt with grosser things before, and this is at least kind of sexy. “This is a fucking hazard, baby. You forget that I have an Anemo vision. Could have a fuckin’ Pyro Swirl in here and then what would we do?”
“Nah,” Childe laughs as he stretches his arms above his head, grin widening as Ifa snorts. “I have a Hydro vision and can handle it in a heartbeat.”
“You can piss me off so bad, you know that?” Ifa chuckles, though, pecking Childe’s lips sweetly as a warm hand strokes over Childe’s side.
“You loooovvveee me,” Childe coos, jolting as Ifa pinches his side. “And I love you!”
“I do, you damn menace.”