Xiao walks in on Morax warming Tartaglia's cock with his mouth.

CW: Contains Smut

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"Have you seen Lord Morax?"

Tartaglia winces at the sound of Xiao's voice as he opens the door and pokes his head through. Of all the people. Not that Katya would be a better choice but at least she would take this sort of thing with humor. And maybe a little blackmail. Tartaglia still owes her a week of vacation and were it her she could easily be bribed to shut her mouth.

Xiao though—

Morax shifts between his legs and Tartaglia has to cough into his hand to hide a moan. A quick flit of his eyes down to see Morax's mouth slotted around his half-hard cock, warming it between his lips. "A game," he'd said, interrupting Tartaglia's paperwork. "Do your best to not be distracted."

Alone is fine. When alone, Tartaglia can pet Morax's hair as he reads through his reports. Morax doesn't have to be quiet, able to loose those breathy little sounds that keep Tartaglia's cock at a constant half-chub. His eyes flicker to Xiao who has stepped into the room with a narrowed expression.

Anyone but him. There isn't a doubt in Tartaglia's mind that Xiao would find this sort of thing blasphemous. And maybe it is—since when was it appropriate for an Emperor to kneel before another? Least of all with the intention of sucking his cock.

Tartaglia has often counted his blessing as of late but at this moment his face burns red with embarrassment.

"Lord Tartaglia?" Xiao's voice is a touch too cool.

"Sorry—sorry. Distracted." Tartaglia gestures to the papers piled on his desk. "You know what they say about work and no play."

A furrow cuts through Xiao's brow. "I do not."

"Right. You are—" Well, he is certainly something. He also has a good nose so if Tartaglia doesn't rein in the heat the curls in his belly, Xiao will know instantly just what his ruler has been up to. And Morax may not care but Tartaglia does.

A shaky laugh bubbles from the back of his throat. "I haven't seen him all day," continues Tartaglia. "Or, at least, since our mid-morning tea. We shared the garden and he brewed a blend of jasmine and oolong. It was pretty tasty and that's coming from a guy who doesn't think much about tea—"

"You're babbling." It's accusatory. Xiao's head tilts slightly to the side as he looks Tartaglia up and down. "You never babble."

"I—" Morax does the unthinkable. He sucks at his length, sliding his tongue across the bottom before settling into a more comfortable position. Tartaglia chokes. Xiao raises a brow. "Dry air. The... air is so dry here. Sometimes I just hack everything up."

"Liyue has a temperate climate."

"So says you. Have you been to Snezhnaya? Would you know the difference?"

"I am not an uneducated fool," Xiao bites out tersely.

Oh, Tartaglia struck a nerve. Any other time would be amusing and he'd dig deeper just to rattle Xaio's bones but Tartaglia can't think straight with the softness of Morax's mouth wrapped around his dick.

"Look, I'm not sure where—"

"He has attached himself to you like a Slime. You must have some sort of inkling."

Morax huffs softly at that, laughing around his cock. Stop that. Stop that, stop that—

"I'm not his keeper," Tartaglia shakily manages. "He comes and goes as he pleases." As evidenced by the fact he has Tartaglia's cock currently twitching in his mouth. Another glance down shows that Morax watches him back, smiling around his length, amused by the situation.

Tartaglia sighs, leaning an elbow against his desk, rubbing his face. "Look, go bother Katya or something. I have work to do."

"Your job is to—"

"Oh so now you want me to protect him. You've only been complaining about that since the day I arrived—" Tartagalia jerks as Morax's fangs graze the delicate skin of his shaft. A warning. Be nice. Morax is never going to let him down about the fact that his cock filled out with the rough treatment.

Tartaglia bites his fist, trying to keep from making a sound. His other hand digs into his thigh. "Look, I don't want to fight with you. Why don't you go sniff him out, or something?" Because Xiao's sniffed weirder shit out in the past like that one time he noted that Katya changed her soap even though Tartaglia is pretty sure she just bathes with dirt.

Xiao turns up his nose and gives a sniff just to spite him. Then he pauses. His nostrils flare and then his pupils dilate. Tartarglia's gaze drops into his lap to find Morax grinding against his palm. Oh. That's bad.

"You—" hisses Xiao.

Morax decides to cut in because of course he does. He pulls off Tartaglia's cock with a slick pop, stroking it with his hand. "Xiao," he says from underneath the desk, his voice far too level and casual, "I appreciate your dedication to your job, but I assure you that I am perfectly fine. Indulgent, even, taking care of what is mine. This time the blame lies solely on me."

Tartaglia thought he was red-faced until he catches sight of Xiao's sputtering look of horror. He flies from the room without another room, the door slamming behind him.

"I think you scarred him for life," says Tartaglia.

"He has encountered worse, I assure you."

"Worse than the Emperor getting too handsy with his knight?"

Morax snorts, leveling him with a hawklike gaze. "And to think I just took the blame for you."

"It's your fault! You waltzed in here, dropped to your knees, and said that you wanted to rest. How was I supposed to know that you meant with my dick in your mouth?"

"No sense of adventure," chastises Morax, pumping Tartaglia's cock to full hardness. Then, he swallows him down once more, this time sinking right down to the root.

"Oh, fuck. Zhongli." At least he can whine this time with no prying ears. Morax hums, smirking around his cock. He brushes his hair behind a pointed ear with the flick of his wrist and Tartaglia can't help but arch into his mouth.

So close, so infuriatingly close, far too soon. The heat has been simmering for a while. It was nice sitting there with his softened cock between Morax's lips. Tartaglia petted his hair as he worked, enjoying the soft sighs that bubbled up around his dick.

Tartaglia should have known better. Morax knows that he has him by the balls—literally. He bobs up and down Tartaglia's cock, a too-long tongue tracing the thick vein along the side of his length. He palms at his ballsack, thumbing down the seam of them.

"Gods. Gods—" Tartaglia bucks deep into Morax's mouth, a hand pressed against the back of his head to hold him there.

Morax moans. His eyes flicker up, half-lidded, that carefully painted red liner smudged by sweat and tears. His cheeks are pink and ruddy. He sucks, breathing through his nose, the picture of anything other than an Emperor. And Morax knows it, with that soft, subtle grin, and the slow way that he blinks, eyelashes brushing his cheeks.

Tartaglia can't stop looking at him, poised between his thighs, swallowing his cock down as though he were made for it. Morax was the one who came in here for this specific purpose. "A game. I want to relax but how long can you last whilst resting in my mouth? Do your best to not be distracted."

"I'm close," mutters Tartaglia. "Zhongli, I'm going to come. I'm going to—" He groans as he tips over the edge, spilling into Morax's mouth.

Morax swallows every drop hungrily, going as far as to pull off and stroke him through it, lapping at everything that drips from the tip of his cock. He feeds hungrily, licking from crown to base, tracing every vein, every freckle, every drip of Tartaglia's spend that's escaped his mouth.

"Delectable." He kisses the tip, teasing, affectionate, causing Tartaglia's length to keep twitching.

"You're a menace." Tartaglia drags a hand down his face as his heart rate slowly slows back to a normal beat. "I won't be able to look Xiao in the face for weeks."

Morax hums softly, dragging a finger down his cock sweetly before dropping it and standing.

"Wait." Tartaglia reaches out and takes hold of his wrist. "What about you?"

"No need for that."

"And if I want to? How fair is it for you to ruin me but I can't ruin you?" Tartaglia stands and presses Morax against his desk, hands immediately going to his waist.

Morax laughs, a strange, tinkling sound. "Ajax, you should know better." He parts his robes and tugs Tartaglia's hand between his thighs. "My need has been satiated, I assure you."

Tartaglia's fingers knock against a softening cock, slick with come. His gaze drops and he finds a trail of Morax's semen on the ground. His mouth falls open. Before he can say anything Morax pats one cheek affectionately and kisses another.

"Adorable as always. How I love you." Then he rights himself, adjusts his robes, and brushes past Tartaglia as if he hasn't just spent the last hour warming his cock.

"Wait, Zhongli. Wait!"

Morax pauses by the door. "Do you know the fun thing about games, Ajax? You're allowed a rematch. If you're truly as annoyed as you pretend to be there will be ample time to ruin me later in our chambers."

Oh, he has a way with words. Tartaglia would just fuck him here but the idea is less appealing than pulling him apart in their sheets instead.

Morax knows he's caught him. He looks him up and down with a tilted gaze, eyes shining with mirth. "For the record, I am relaxed enough for my unfortunate meeting. Were my afternoon free I would spend it with you."

It is hard to remember that he has obligations. Morax never ignores them but he does schedule his days in a very particular way. Tartaglia never goes long without sharing moments together. Morax gives him one last look of utter fondness which makes Tartaglia's heart creak.

Then, he ruins the moment by saying, "Almond tofu is a good peace offering if you're up to apologizing Xiao."