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    Summary

    His lover had always had excellent posture, unlike Childe who would be cock hipped on a regular basis, but right now he seemed stiffer, straighter somehow, like strings had been attached to his spine and were pulling him taught. There was also his waist; Zhongli’s waist was always snatched, slim in comparison to the ample curve of his hips and ass, but now it seemed particularly tiny. Almost like the ladies in court he would see at Zapolyarny Palace in all their finery. His hand roamed along that tiny waist now and it didn’t just look different, it did indeed feel different too. He could feel the soft silk of his overcoat as normal, but underneath felt different. Normally he could feel the give of flesh but today...today Zhongli’s waist was solid as a rock.

    “Zhongli-xiansheng...just what are you wearing?”

    A corset.

    A fucking corset.

    Zhongli was wearing a fucking corset.

    Or: Zhongli wears a corset vest and Childe has a Horny Crisis.

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