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The moment Zhongli arrived at Lumidouce Harbor, the skies grew grey—his presence had not gone unnoticed. No matter: he directed his Waverider taxi from the port to the nearest footpath to Opera Epiclese, despite the Fontainian sailor’s concerned remarks about leaving him here. Zhongli didn’t want to test his luck too much by staying on the water any longer.
Disembarking from the Waverider, he leisurely made his way to the footpath along the coast, despite the beginning of pattering rain. Zhongli merely pulled out a red umbrella, which depicted gold animals running around the rim—dragons, chased by horses, cranes, deer, and qilin. It matched his draping robes perfectly: swathes of deep red fabric with shimmering golden embroidery hung from Zhongli’s shoulders, wrists, and waist. He was decorated in unusually fine fabrics and jewelry that day—a pair of Noctilucous Jade earrings framed his face, and a delicate gold hairpin tied his long hair into a bun. Who was he dressed for, so far away from the familiarity of Liyue? He nearly looked like a foreign bride, brought in for some noble’s wedding. Lonesome, in the same way; his long robes dragged along the wet grass, growing heavy with moisture, bringing him to a slow walk—an outfit of this delicacy shouldn’t have been left alone in the grassy slopes. Were it not for Zhongli’s serene expression and elegant posture, he would’ve drawn pitying gazes—if there was anyone around at all.
When Neuvillette felt the appearance of a strong Geo lifeform within Fontaine’s borders, he jolted in his office chair. No other presence was like this—something so pure that it could only be from one source: the Geo Archon. Neuvillette stumbled through his current paperwork with startling urgency, before abandoning the remaining and taking leave. He was striding out of the Opera Epiclese against the tide of citizens hurrying inside from the sudden looming downpour—he blinked and suddenly he could see the back of the figure, umbrella twirling as they made their way to a foggy forest path. He still couldn’t fathom it: what was the Geo Archon doing here, in the domain where Neuvillette was the most powerful? Neuvillette’s feet kept taking him forwards while his mind scrambled for what to say.
“Deus Auri,” he finally managed, mere paces away. They were shielded in the woods by this point, yet still the rain thrashed down through the leaves. The Geo Archon finally paused, no longer pretending he wasn’t aware of him. He lowered the umbrella, revealing a golden hairpin highlighted against the back of his exposed neck. Neuvillette’s eyes traced it involuntarily before Deus Auri turned around, red robes twisting around him, and Neuvillette wondered if he was always dressed this ostentatiously.
“Neuvillette. You may call me Zhongli, should you prefer,” he demurred, before lowering his head—his jade earrings swayed with the motion—and bowing to Neuvillette. The rain was coming down in full now, soaking his hair and clothes. “It is a pleasure to meet a fellow dragon.”
A fellow dragon? Neuvillette growled. How dare he say that when he once held the stolen Authority, ripped violently from the Geo Sovereign—“You have no right to call yourself a dragon, when you are merely a beast,” he felt constricted, suddenly, in these human clothes, his anger too great for such layers.
Zhongli smiled, unfazed by Neuvillette’s hostility, then his crinkled eyes glowed golden, and suddenly he was adorned with four curled horns over pointed ears. His entire… essence changed, in that moment, and Neuvillette’s hindbrain went from identifying him as a usurper threat to something warmer, richer. A Geo dragon. Something within him called out to that creature, wanting to get closer to his first encounter with one of his kind, wanting to smell that unfamiliar scent of home. “I didn’t know you were so easily fooled by appearances,” said Zhongli, as if his form previously was merely a facade and not an entirely different being. Neuvillette was perplexed. So quickly had Zhongli appeared, and then morphed, pulling Neuvillette into multiple directions—he couldn’t decide actions which took priority. He was not prepared to take Zhongli to trial, he had yet to plan a script or research his full crimes, and he was too scrambled to do it on the fly, considering half of his processing was currently put to restraining himself from pouncing on the creature in front of him.
“What sort of trick is this,” Neuvillette questioned, eyes raking down Zhongli, finally taking in the detailing of his clothes. What tempting enchantment did Zhongli create for Neuvillette to be this distracted by the sight of red robes? What is it about red and gold that made something in him keen and yearn? Was it the way Zhongli appeared to be a present, silk gift-wrapping with golden cords, clinging to his skin in the pouring rain? Or was it Zhongli himself, with his delicate red makeup framing golden eyes that held an inscrutable heat, prickling up Neuvilette’s spine…
“There is no trick, hydro dragon, I simply am kin, with the same horns, tail, and scales,” Zhongli’s clawed fingers reached up to his neckline, to do what, Neuvillette doesn't know, as the hand froze midway. He realized that he held Zhongli’s wrist captive, that he moved to stop Zhongli without thought. “I would show you, if you release me,” Zhongli purred, tilting his head, exposing a few delicate golden-brown scales dotting the base of his neck. Neuvillette flushed at the sight—he had never taken a visual interest in… necks, before, but the sight of Zhongli’s tilted head filled his mind with thoughts of bringing his lips to his nape, licking, biting down, drawing blood and moans—
“No,” Neuvillette growled. Zhongli had pushed him past rationality and into acting on instinct, now. Something within him balked at the thought of Zhongli having to undress himself: it was his duty alone. “I shall find out on my own.”
Neuvillette pushed Zhongli into the wet grass underneath a tall cypress tree. Despite the force, Zhongli landed gracefully, as if the soil could not bear to harm him. His fingers traced Zhongli’s red robes from the neckline down to the corded belt, and sliced through. The fabric parted easily, and he pulled the outer red layer to the sides, revealing his white undergarments. It struck Neuvillette that if he went any further, he would be violating his impartiality for Zhongli’s trial. But the dragon underneath him did not leave him time to ponder it, and tore away the ties of his undergarments, exposing a toned chest adorned with dark pink nipples to Neuvillette’s heated gaze. Zhongli reached up and pulled Neuvillette’s head down to his own, crashed their lips together, and licked into the other’s mouth.
How dare he attempt to dominate, thought Neuvillette, and matched Zhongli’s purr with a growl. He pressed into that pliant mouth, tracing faint fangs, nipping at rosy lips, tasting the other’s want. He pressed his hips down, a free hand settling in the small dips of his waist, slotting his thigh between Zhongli’s. He ground up as his finger circled a stiff nipple, and found a damp warmth on his thigh—Zhongli moaned shamelessly into his mouth, grasping at his robes, raising his hips to grind himself against Neuvillette again.
“I now see why you came here,” he murmured into the other’s mouth. “You came here to get—” he pinched Zhongli’s nipple, swallowing the other’s gasp, “to get bred.”
Zhongli whined, unable to refute the assertion, and merely tugged at Neuvillette's robes instead. His voice had been kicked up a register, the earlier soothing deepness morphed into a softer chiming. “Undress, if you please,” he all but begged, squirming under Neuvillette.
He was feeling magnanimous, so Neuvillette did as he pleaded, and retreated from Zhongli's grasp. While he divested of his soaked clothes as quickly as he could, he puzzled: what in the seas was he doing with this usurper-turned-dragon? About to breed him into the ground? Where, in that, was the justice that he sought? And then he froze, bewitched, as his eyes followed Zhongli’s fingers in pushing away the tatters of his pants, revealing muscled thighs, glistening folds, and a brown dragon tail hidden underneath. Forgive him for the weakness: Neuvillette decided that justice can wait until later. For now, he must take care of this golden dragon that was crawling onto his knees for him.
Zhongli reached out from the makeshift nest of red and white silk to tug at Neuvillette’s stiff hands that were frozen above his belt. “My dear hydro dragon, how shall I take care of your needs,” he spoke so reverently that Neuvillette was taken aback. Where did that kindness come from? He pushed away the dichotomy of enjoying the flattery and the strangeness of receiving it from a usurper. His hand reached out to trace through Zhongli’s soft brown hair, picking out the hairpin and watching it fall delicately down his shoulders. Zhongli leaned forward into his hand and pressed his cheek to Neuvillette's bulge. His hot breath tickled his bare stomach and warmed through the pants, sending heat through Neuvillette’s body. The forgotten golden hairpin dropped to the edge of the mess of fabric, as Neuvillette finally removed his pants and allowed Zhongli unfettered access to his cocks.
He had two of them: pulsing blue lengths, glowing from faintly bioluminescent freckles. They were of different sizes, but their angular heads made their shape elegantly flow from one into the other. The upper cock was longer, thicker, meant for depositing eggs; the lower was more human, thinner and dripping with pre.
Zhongli hummed contentedly the moment he placed his tongue on the underside of his lower cock, and Neuvillette echoed him as he dragged his tongue up the shaft and teased just under the head. Zhongli’s hand moved to caress his upper and bring it out of the way of getting his mouth on his glans. Zhongli was a sight to behold like this; looking up with blissed out golden slitted eyes, silky brown hair cascading over his shoulders, rounded horns that Neuvillette took hold of, and a swaying brown tail adorned with amber. A beautiful dragon, strong enough to take eggs, thought Neuvillette. A suitable mate.
Before he could question what exactly he was thinking, Zhongli took his cock into his mouth fully and his tip hit the back of his throat. Neuvillette gasped, pulling Zhongli even closer by the horns, to which he let out a garbled moan around his length. And this was almost too much for Neuvillette: he yanked him by the horns off his dick, to a chorus of gasps. Zhongli had saliva running down his chin, his bullied mouth agape. It was arousingly explicit—Neuvillette picked up the saliva with his fingers and pressed them back onto Zhongli's tongue. Was it some whorish instinct that had Zhongli immediately sucking on those fingers? His forked tongue rubbed his fingerpads, wet the webbing between them, suckled and drooled on them—Neuvillette had not known prior to this how sensitive human hands were.
“Enough,” Neuvilette ordered, again directing Zhongli by his smooth horns. “On your knees.” Zhongli fell back onto the soaked silk in one elegant motion, folding over onto his stomach and raising his hips, swaying his tail, as if Neuvillette needed any more encouragement. He pressed his lengths to the swell of Zhongli’s ass, hand coming to grasp at the base of his tail. Neuvillette lacked a tail in his form: he questioned if revealing it was something he could learn, so he could wrap his tail around this warm one. He tugged at it, relishing in the aroused keen that was ripped from Zhongli, body jerking and sliding against Neuvillette’s cocks. The wet heat from Zhongli’s pussy sent waves of pleasure through his entire being—he needed to be inside of him, now.
One hand falling from tail to waist, Neuvillette leaned over the presenting dragon, the other hand making its way to Zhongli’s core and circling the sensitive, engorged clit—Zhongli nearly jolted out of Neuvillette’s hold at the soft touch—before aligning the pointed tip of his ovipositor to his entrance. Etiquette would demand he prepare his partner before entering him, but he assured himself that if Zhongli did indeed come here to merely get bred, surely he would have prepared himself to take draconic cocks. Not that Neuvillette had the patience to stretch him at the moment either way—perhaps it was merely an excuse to test Zhongli’s limits.
Zhongli, like a beast in heat, ground against the tip threatening to penetrate him. He looked back over his shoulder at Neuvillette, moaning: “Come on, hydro dragon, fuck me,” accompanied by another sensual wiggle of his hips. Neuvillette’s eyes darkened—Zhongli will take what he is given, without complaint. He leaned down, his hand to Zhongli’s nape, pressing him into the makeshift nest, pinning him there as he finally sheathed the tip of his cock into his wet heat. Zhongli’s resulting moan shook his whole body, his clawed golden hands nearly tearing the fabric underneath him. He was so tight around him, so hot that Neuvillette was glad for the cooling rain, despite how it made his grip slippery.
“I am no mere hydro dragon,” he slowly pressed further in to accentuate his point: “I am a Sovereign. You may address me as such, or by my name.” Zhongli pulsed at the dominance, clenching harder on Neuvillette’s engorged cock—so big that Neuvillette found the end of his channel, pressing against the tip of his ovipositor. He felt the gut-wrenching urge to bully this dragon’s cervix until it yielded and he could lay his eggs inside.
His first thrust was a short stab inside, barely pulling out, and the man underneath him panted, “Sovereign—” and oh, how nice it was to earn piety from this divine beast, this star in human shell, his golden dragon, his mate—
Neuvillette’s hair, escaping from its tie, tickled Zhongli’s back as he gained a steady pace, abusing his pretty hole. His unused cock dragged against Zhongli’s sensitive clit, sending an unexpected, rough spike of arousal and tearing out a gasping whine. Zhongli’s tail wrapped around the hydro dragon’s waist, encouraging his rough thrusts. He had gone completely boneless; Neuvillette was holding him up entirely by a hand gripping his hip. With each slam inside, he felt as if Zhongli was reforming around his cock, walls softening, moulding to perfectly fit Neuvillette’s shape. Voiceless gasps were punched out of Zhongli’s open mouth with every touch to his cervix.
He was radiant like this, Neuvillette thought. More alluring than when dressed in his red and gold robes, covered in intricate embroidery and gems. No, this was when his true beauty shone: panting against silk, hair astray, shining with geo energy. His brown hair and horns seemed to warm to an orange glow with the newly-arrived sun, peeking out from behind the rainclouds that Neuvillette had unintentionally summoned earlier. How could he have ever resisted this gorgeous being? How can he ever let him go?
An exceptionally deep thrust caused Zhongli to yelp, tail tightening into a vice and thighs clenching together, pinning Neuvillette’s sensitive length between their warmth. “Neuvillette— ah—” he cried, while his hips jerked erratically and his walls fluttered at the feeling of the tip of that long, blue cock invading his last defence and pressing into his cervix. For the first time that day, Zhongli came with a shuddering moan. Neuvillette stilled inside of him, massaging his sides as he rode out the aftershocks. He pressed a kiss between Zhongli’s relaxed shoulderblades as he pulled out, to shudders and whines from the dragon underneath him. Zhongli looked over his shoulder pleadingly at the loss; it seems neither of them were satisfied just yet.
Neuvillette barely had to suggest him turning over before Zhongli flipped onto his back, and nestled back against his Sovereign, hooking his legs around his waist. “It is unfortunate that I do not have any eggs for you,” Neuvillette murmured as he watched Zhongli line up his lower length to his entrance. The vision of him eggbound satisfied some deep inhuman desire—he liked the notion of this creature tied to and dependent upon him. He pressed his sensitive head to the rosy folds, pushing in without resistance: Zhongli really was moulding to his shape, he thought deliriously. This cock may be shorter and thinner, but it was where the brunt of the pleasure came from—nearly too sensitive to touch. Enveloping it in Zhongli’s soft warmth had his hands shaking where they lay on the other’s waist. He would not last long like this, he realized, and decided to equalize the playing field, bringing a hand down to tease the other's clit.
Zhongli was a melody of pleasure; draconic whines and purrs, as his bullied body greedily took more and more of Neuvillette. Every time Neuvillette gently stroked him just right, he would twitch into those pale fingers, fucking himself on that blue cock. “We will—just have to repeat this—when you do,” he managed between Neuvillette’s thrusts. To hear that Zhongli was willing to bear his eggs nearly sent Neuvillette over the edge—he jackknifed, pressing his forehead to the Geo dragon’s chest, panting against warm, damp skin. His pace became erratic; angry thrusts that barely pulled out, and he groaned his pleasure against the expanse of tan skin in front of him. His forked tongue peeked past, and he made his way to a puffy nipple—had Zhongli been playing with them before, Neuvillette wondered, or were they this red just from arousal?
Teeth grazed the sensitive skin—Neuvillette bit down on his nipple, hips jerking to a stop deep inside Zhongli. He shuddered, coming, filling Zhongli with thick spend, for what felt like minutes—Zhongli followed him, head thrown back from the ecstasy of dragon seed finding a home inside of him, after so many years alone.
Once Neuvillette’s ears stopped ringing, the sound of their heavy breathing brought him back to earth. His cum slowly eked out of Zhongli, but he did not yet want to pull out of this radiant warmth. Rather, the longer his seed stayed on Zhongli’s skin, the more he would smell like Neuvillette; the more he would smell claimed.
“Repeat this?” Neuvillette finally processed what was nagging him about Zhongli’s earlier promise. Was Zhongli always planning to— to distract Neuvillette repeatedly with the temptation of his body? Did he think that he would always become slave to his instincts? Was this how Zhongli evaded judgement? No, this would not happen. Next time he will be prepared; he will not fall prey to the other’s seduction. This was a singular occurrence, owing to him being unprepared for Zhongli’s appearance.
Zhongli only hummed softly in response. Twirled in his hands was the intricate golden hairpin that Neuvillette had torn out of his hair, and then prompty forgot about, landing who-knows-where in the nest—and then it was melting, reforming, solidifying into something else, like Zhongli was playing with clay rather than a metal. It seemed to finalize into some kind of hairclip, bejewelled with Noctilucous Jade and Cor Lapis. Zhongli reached up—Neuvillette tensed, but he only gently tucked his pale hair out of the way and secured it with the newly-formed artifact.
Neuvillette could not fathom the meaning of this gesture. All of Zhongli’s actions were stranger than he had ever anticipated, especially from an Archon. Why was he offering such gentleness and submission, to one of the only beings that could overpower him? To one of the beings that… should be angry with him and should hold him accountable for his past crimes against dragonkind.
The weight of what he had done—the lapse in judgement that caused this—slowly settled upon Neuvillette’s shoulders. The moment they met, impartiality had flown from his grasp: any judgement now rendered would be coloured by… this event. He had been compromised. He pulled out—and away—from Zhongli, heedless of his breathy noise from oversensitivity. Neuvillette’s cum decorated his core with such beauty it made his vision swim; he tore himself away to look for his official Iudex robes.
Soaked clothes were of no consequence to him—he now rather preferred their weight and constraint over being bare. While re-buckling his high boots, he saw Zhongli right himself on top of the mess of red and white fabric. Pressed into the muddy ground, the delicate robes were no doubt beyond repair; Neuvillette mourned the loss of artistry, though unfamiliar to him as they were. But Zhongli seemed to pay it no mind: a brown fitted tailcoat simply materialized onto his shoulders, accompanied by a Geo Vision—fake, Neuvillette sensed. Was this his usual attire, Neuvillette wondered, and why did he instead appear in those red robes at their first meeting?
“Going back to hiding as a human now?” Neuvillette sniped, eyes roving from his Vision to his curled horns as Zhongli turned around.
“Oh,” he murmured, as if he forgot the horns were there. In a blink of an eye all his draconic features disappeared—masked, or fully changed? Neuvillette could not tell where the truth of this being ended and where illusions started. Zhongli continued, unbothered by his suspicion, “yes, I should be on my way.”
Neuvillette still felt conflicted: he had not yet put him to trial, yet he had no proper case to present before him either. “Next time we meet,” promised Neuvillette, “it will be as defendant and Iudex.”
Zhongli, radiant as the sun, merely smiled in response, before turning and walking away. The red robes remained trodden into the ground underneath the cypress tree.