Childe’s tongue darts from between his lips, lapping at the tender skin of Zhongli’s wrist, and Zhongli inhales sharply, stepping closer. The slip of space between them crackles, and Childe breathes Zhongli in again, letting that afternote of silkflower fill his nose and lungs. It’s subtle, and all the better for it, drawing him in with the promise of more while never becoming overwhelming.
“Childe…” Zhongli murmurs, his voice gritted and low.
“Zhongli, you’re…” Childe flicks his tongue out again, swiping at Zhongli’s pulse point. He can taste the silkflower, too, taste Zhongli’s natural scent beneath that, fresh like dewy rock on a spring morning. It’s intoxicating, not in the head-spinning way that omega scents are, but in a way that’s natural and pure and simply Zhongli, and Childe guides Zhongli’s forearm across his nose, drinking in every inch of his scent.
Ch 3 of my #tartali A/B/O fic, A Smell Just As Sweet, is up! All I will say for this one is wrist👀
💧 Non-Traditional A/B/O
🔶Alpha/Beta
💧 archiveofourown.org/works/604980...