Childe positioned his pool stick in between your ribs, his forearms resting on your stomach.

“Stop moving.”

He stared at you, who had a cue ball sitting between your lips. He huffed and went back to aiming at the cue ball.

You don’t even remember why you agreed to this, it just sounded like a fun idea. You laying on your back on the pool table with the cue ball on your mouth, him hovering over and hitting said cue ball…