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Scaramouche is a man of little patience. He does not like being meddled with, or nagged, or irritated. Unfortunately for him, his colleague Childe is determined to do all of those things at once.
The two of them had been assigned on a mission together. Something simple regarding gathering intel, nothing they haven’t done before, although it is a little odd that they’re sending two Harbingers to do the job. He knows better than to question the Tsaritsa’s orders though, and not like he really cares anyway. He’ll gladly take what is essentially a break from the brutal weather of Snezhnaya any day.
The two of them are headed back to their hotel rooms when all of Scaramouche’s irritation comes to a head. Having completed their duties, and free to do as they wish until they leave the following morning, Childe could be doing plenty of better things than following him like a lost dog, yet here he is, trailing after him with a dopey smile on his face.
“I do not know what you think is going to occur this evening, but I am uninterested in whatever you are thinking about,” Scaramouche says without turning around to face Childe, waiting for the elevator to be available. Childe moves to stand next to him and wait as well, giggling about Archons-knows-what. “What are you laughing about?”
“Our rooms are on the same floor. You know that, right, Scara?” Childe replies, sly smile on his face. “So we have to go the same way.”
Scaramouche is almost at his breaking point. Childe has not left him alone once today. It was almost as if the Tsaritsa had done this more to pawn off her slobbering dog for a few days rather than something useful. Really, he can’t blame her. He’d want a break, too. He wants a break now, and it’s only been a little over a day.
“Keep it up and I will suffocate you in your sleep.”
“Sneaking into my room at night? I didn’t know you liked me that much. I’m flattered, really, but it’s against the rules to date colleagues!”
The elevator comes down before Scaramouche can shove Childe down the elevator shaft, and they get inside. “I think it’s funny that you think I’d date you. Are you really that desperate for constant attention?”
Scaramouche struggles not to find the twinge of disappointment on Childe’s face amusing. His amusement only lasts a moment, though, because Childe recovers quickly.
“Only desperate for your attention. You don’t think I’d do this with just anyone, do you?”
The tight rope that is Scaramouche’s patience is about to snap. “Take a wild guess,” he replies simply, as if it’s just a matter of a fact. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t fuck whoever decides to just fall to their knees for me.”
They reach their floor, and Scaramouche is ready to make a beeline to his bedroom when Childe moves to stand in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, just give me one chance? I promise I won’t disappoint you. You don’t even have to touch me, I just want to—”
Childe’s words are interrupted by Scaramouche punching him hard, enough to knock him back a few steps. Blood begins to drip from Childe’s nose and down his chin. Any normal person would take the hint, but Scaramouche could have his words lit up on big neon lights and he still would act the same.
Shakily, Childe moves to wipe his nose, his smile quickly coming back stronger. “I like it when you’re rough.” He stares down at Scaramouche with dilated pupils and tented pants, breathing heavily.
And that’s finally when Scaramouche loses it.
“You want me that badly, do you? Fine, you can have me! But don’t complain when it’s not what you wanted all along.” Grabbing Childe by the collar of his shirt, he drags them off to Childe’s hotel room. He doesn’t want to deal with a mess where he sleeps. Scaramouche has never seen anyone look so smug and so shocked all at once, but Childe has a tendency to do those sorts of things.
“Stop making that ridiculous face,” Scaramouche demands when they make it inside, locking the door behind them. Before he can say anything else, Childe is kissing him. He tastes like blood. He cringes at the taste, pushing him away. “You’re disgusting.”
“I know,” Childe replies breathily, looking like he’s over the moon.
“Get on the floor.”
Childe’s eyes widen a little. “Huh? Why?”
“Do not question me. Get on the floor like the filthy dog you are, on all fours.” Scaramouche is finally smiling now, but not in the normal way someone would smile. No, it stems from his need to make Childe suffer, his need to see him squirm, his need to see him beg for mercy. Sure, it’ll take a lot to make him crack, but when he does, it’ll be well worth it. If Childe thinks the Tsaritsa has him wrapped around her finger, he’s going to experience something so much more than that.
And Scaramouche is not going to think about how he’s a little jealous of how loyal Childe is to their Archon.
Childe doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s told, but he doesn’t quiet down whatsoever. “What are you going to do to me, huh?” He looks as if he’s in a dream, utterly blissful with what’s going on.
“What did I say about questions,” Scaramouche says rather than asks, stepping on Childe’s fingers deliberately. “You never fucking shut up. Let’s take care of that first, hm?”
Scaramouche kicks off his shoes, then slides down both his shorts and underwear off of himself. Taking hold of his underwear, he rolls it up into a ball. “Open wide, mutt.”
He grabs Childe’s chin, urging his mouth open, then shoves the balled up fabric into his mouth. “There we go, that’s better. And don’t even think about spitting it out unless I tell you to.”
Even if Childe could complain, it doesn’t seem like he’d want to anyway. His eyes are fixated on the now-exposed parts of Scaramouche, squirming a little with excitement. He tries to move forward, in an attempt to try and do anything to Scaramouche, but he’s stopped almost immediately by a hand tugging at his hair.
“I don’t think you’ve earned it, do you?” Scaramouche laughs when Childe realizes he can’t even try to explain himself, making a sad face in response. “You can try and be good for once, and maybe I’ll let you touch me. How does that sound?”
Childe enthusiastically nods, squeezing his thighs together.
“And stop trying to pleasure yourself without permission. I’m not stupid.” Scaramouche does himself the favor of undressing fully, mostly to see Childe’s reaction. He’s had sex plenty of times before, and sure, others have enjoyed what they’d seen, but he’d never seen anyone react like this.
Now naked before the other, Scaramouche gently takes Childe’s chin into his hand. Archons, he’s supposed to be mean right now, what is he even doing? An annoying prick like Childe doesn’t deserve this from him. “I’m going to play with you, doggy. And when I’ve had my fun, you get to have your fun. Kneel for me.”
Childe hesitates for a brief moment, leaning into Scaramouche’s touch before doing as he’s told. He puts his hands behind himself for good measure, so that it doesn’t seem like he’s up to any sort of funny business.
“Good boy. See, you know how to behave. Why do you act the way you do, when you can be a good boy, just for me?” Scaramouche struggles to ignore his own excitement. Originally, he’d just planned on getting Childe off so he’d finally leave him alone, but this is so much better than he was expecting. Still, trying to ignore how wet he is right now is a difficult task. Especially with what he’s about to do next.
Stepping forward into Childe’s bubble, Scaramouche presses a foot down onto his clothed cock, letting out a shaky breath when he hears him whimper in response. “Has anyone done anything like this to you before?” he asks quietly, staring down at Childe, who’s looking right back up at him. When he shakes his head no, he can feel himself throb. Maybe having someone be so obsessed with him isn’t so bad.
Slowly but surely, Scaramouche slides his foot up the length of Childe’s bulge, eyes flickering up from the sight and to Childe’s face, watching as he melts just from barely anything at all. “God, you’re so desperate. I’m more inclined to think you’re a virgin with the way you’re reacting… or maybe you just want me that badly?”
Biting his lip, Scaramouche is starting to wonder if he’s the one with self control problems. He could have just called it a night when he’d punched him, which was already unnecessary in the first place. And now he’s actually thinking about having sex with him, not just playing around until he gets bored. What is wrong with him? He’s supposed to be the one in charge, so why does he feel like he’s just giving Childe exactly what he wants? Maybe he’s a little more into him than he’d thought.
“Lay down,” Scaramouche demands, voice a little wobbly. He climbs on top of him when he does, straddling him. He doesn’t know what’s come over him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to have fun tonight. He notices that Childe doesn’t try to touch him, and he grins in response. This was definitely easier than he’d thought it’d be. Leaning forward, he removes the underwear from his mouth, getting bored of being the only one talking.
Scaramouche stares down at Childe for a short moment, waiting to see if he’d say something. When he doesn’t, he fills the silence himself. “Y’know, for someone who wants to fuck me so bad, it’s funny how little initiative you take,” he taunts. “I’m beginning to wonder if you just like looking at me more than anything else. Don’t tell me you’re nothing more than an obedient mutt for whoever takes charge? I think that would be rather pathetic. I wouldn’t want someone so pitiful looking at my body.”
Before Scaramouche can possibly say anything else demeaning, Childe is pushing him to the ground and climbing on top of him, pupils dilated. “Fine, you want me to play dirty? I’ll play dirty,” Childe replies, using one hand to keep Scaramouche pinned to the floor, and the other to undo his belt. “I was trying to be good for you since it seemed like it’d be the only way you’d let me fuck you, but if you want me to just take what I want? Well, I’m no stranger to that.”
Scaramouche squirms under Childe’s grasp. He has plenty of power over him to avoid being held down right now, and both of them know this. It’s all just an act to save face, so he doesn’t seem like he just gave in all too easily. He’d never do that. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” Scaramouche hisses, scratching at him, as if he didn’t just egg him on into doing this.
“You’re all bark and no bite. It’s cute, really,” Childe replies, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. “Let’s see how cute you look when I’m fucking you.” He lines up with Scaramouche’s slick entrance and pushes in with ease, groaning as he bottoms out.
“You’re such a loser.” Scaramouche’s breathing has gotten heavier, and when Childe begins to fuck him, he can’t help but move his hips alongside him. “You’re lucky to even be inside me right now. Knowing you, you probably won’t even last a minute.”
Childe laughs, hand moving to wrap around Scaramouche’s throat. There’s no use trying to choke him as he doesn’t breathe in the first place; it’s more of a point of dominance. “God, you can never let anyone get the last word in, can you?” He picks up the pace, building up a steady rhythm. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love that about you. But really, Scara, it’s funny how hard you’re trying right now.”
Scaramouche groans in frustration. Childe is just so fucking annoying, and he can’t believe he’d gotten it into his head that maybe he could get him under control. And the worst thing is, this feels amazing. He can’t even begin to remember the last time someone held him down like this, or the last time he’d even been this wet. He hates that Childe is the one that’s making him feel so good, because he can barely stand him right now. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” he mumbles, feeling shame wash over him the more he feels his body tighten with pleasure.
“That’s all you have to say now, huh?” Childe removes his hand from Scaramouche’s neck to be closer to him, face inches away from his. “Run out of clever comebacks? You really don’t get fucked like this often enough.” He gets rougher, having to hold the other in place so he isn’t shifted by his thrusts. “Don’t worry, I’ll do this whenever you want. I’m your mutt now, right?”
“Fuck you.” That’s all Scaramouche has the brain capacity to say, too close to cumming. He’s going to beat the shit out of Childe later for embarrassing him like this, but for now, he supposes it can’t hurt to let himself feel good. When’s the last time he let himself relax, or even cum for that matter? He’s been so busy with work that he hasn’t even thought about it. And luckily for him, he doesn’t have to do any of the work.
Childe leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, and Scaramouche’s grimaces. “Gonna cum soon? I can feel you tightening around me.”
Scaramouche doesn’t bother to say anything back, not that he really can. Childe’s cock is thrusting right into just the perfect spot inside of him, and he’s so close, it’s hard to think at all. He grabs Childe’s face and kisses him hard, messily shoving his tongue in his mouth. When he finally kisses back after hesitating for a brief moment, Scaramouche cums. His whole body tenses, and a small burst of electricity follows, accident shocking Childe in the process. Luckily for the both of them, it seems that’s all it takes to push him over the edge too, pumping him full of cum.
Breaking the kiss, Childe looks too surprised to be smug. “Didn’t know I’d be into that sort of thing,” he mumbles after catching his breath, slowly pulling out and seeing the absolute mess he’d made. “Fuck, um… I’ll clean you up, I promise. And I’ll get you a contraceptive pill tomorrow. …And anything else you might want?”
Scaramouche slowly regains his ability to think again, and when he does, he has half a mind to remind Childe that he can’t even get pregnant. But thinking about him stressing about it and running around to try and appease him… he’ll tell him after he’s done his bidding. For now, he’s going to enjoy having him on a tight leash.
And even after being annoyed by Childe all day, he still ends up falling asleep in his hotel room, curled up beside him. Maybe he does like him a little.