Ambrosia: Zhongchi

by orphan_account

Summary:

In which Tartaglia learns how dangerous it really is to go undercover -- especially when his target of assassination is none other than the Archon Association's Treasurer, the elusive club owner... Mr. Zhongli.
An addicting man, if one was around too much of him.
And that doesn't bode well for our Fatui protagonist.

A tale of smoke and mirrors, smoking guns, and smoky eyeshadow.

Childe was going to *really* regret going undercover as a woman.
...or was he?

**updates every Saturday**

Notes:

• For weareoutofthewoods.

Chapter 1: Why You Really Shouldn't Mess With Fake Tits

Childe had probably never been so nervous in his life. 

Sure, he’d slain monsters, torn enemies limb from limb, watched the life drain from his opponent’s eyes-

But had he ever done this? No, nothing remotely close. 

Usually, the sound of smooth jazz lilting around the hazy, phantasmagorical rooms would have been relaxing, enjoyable even- but the nightclub’s dim lighting and heavy poppy-scented air seemed to stress the Harbinger even more than he probably should have been. 

You see, Ajax wasn’t really known for being subtle. The opposite, really. 

If it hadn’t been for the crushing metaphorical weight of his mission (and the total breach of his comfort zone), the soporific atmosphere would have put him in a half-trance in no time -- as this club was the kind of place where one’s eyes were eternally half-lidded, and one just let the events of the night wash over you like waves on a rocky shore.

Childe looked around the club anxiously, picking at the all-too-short hem of what had to be the most ridiculous thing he’d ever had to wear on a mission.

A short, glittery black cocktail dress with no back, no armor, and no protection.

A horrid, unsafe, and humiliating decision. And it had a stupid headband, too. Apparently, this party was supposed to be themed on the Roaring ’20s, so naturally, one’s outfit had to follow suit. How asinine. 

But then again, it was never Childe’s decision in the first place. 

“Relax, Tartaglia. You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

Childe grimaced as his comrade’s voice crackled in through a tiny earbud in his ear. 

“Now you look like you just did.”

The redhead rolled his eyes and did his best to relax. 

A tall blonde woman walked up behind Childe, putting her hand on his shoulder in a half-threatening, half-comforting way.

“Just because you’ve never had to socialize before, doesn’t mean that you have to look and seem like it.” She said in a drippingly sarcastic tone, cold blue eyes scanning the nightclub’s crowd. 

Childe looked up at his co-worker with a sour expression. “Why thank you, Signora. That makes all the difference.”

Her calm smile didn’t slip, not for a moment. “The only reason you’re here, Childe, is because he already knows me, and distrusts me.”

“Why couldn’t Scaramouche have done this?” He asked with a small huff, trying not to blink too hard or cough in the smoke-laden air.

“I’m not wearing a dress, Tartaglia. I don’t care how much money I get.”

“Coward.” Childe laughed quietly. Poking fun at his co-worker seemed to put him at ease… a bit. 

“There he is-” Signora’s smile turned a bit cruel, almost predatory. “Shall we?”

Childe gave her a tired nod, the beginnings of a headache already being caused by the fleeting flashes of light, persistent music, and indistinguishable loud voices.

The hand on Childe’s shoulder guided him forward through a particularly thick and overpoweringly piquant cloud of smoke, and the redhead came out the other side of it coughing wildly, feeling overwhelmed from all angles.

“Do pull yourself together.” Signora glared pointedly at Childe as he struggled to recompose himself.

“My, is everything alright?” 

The voice sent our charming protagonist into another fit of coughs entirely -- mellifluous, smooth, deep, yet somehow just rough enough around the edges as to suggest something akin to a pistol hidden underneath a crisp linen shirt.

That was just it- the voice sounded like a loaded gun. 

“My friend here is fine,” Signora turned to the source of the voice with natural grace and flair, her trademark lazy smile gracing her lips unendingly. “Just a bit unaccustomed to the opulence of a place like this.”

“Ah, you flatter me.” The voice’s owner chuckled, and Childe finally managed to regain the proper function of his lungs. 

Well, that control over bodily functions was brief, indeed.

That voice had belonged to a man, and that man was now standing before the very flushed, and very confused Childe. 

He was quite tall, but not so much so as to be ungainly. A perfect sort of height as to be imposing but not fear-inducing; just like everything else about him. 

The man exuded power like it was an ambrosial cologne. He wore money like an accessory and crafted his words like poison daggers. 

Curious golden eyes peered at the smaller redhead, drifting up and down his body as if to analyze the core of his being. That, and other things.

“I-” Childe cleared his throat slightly. “Hello-”

The man seemed to take amusement from this and gave a low rumbling chuckle. “What a greeting. Do you make such entrances often?”

Signora glanced between the two, unsure of what to say.

“My entrances are usually much grander.” Childe manages to grin, placing a hand on his hip. Breath was coming to a lot easier, and so was composure.

Maybe I do work well under pressure.

“Consider my interest piqued.” The taller man raised an eyebrow and extended his hand to the shorter. “What might your name be, Ms.?” 

Oh. Right. 

Damn these fake honkers-

“Uh-”

WHY DIDN’T I COME UP WITH A NAME?

“Katrina.” Signora jumped in, ineffable as ever. “Her name is Katrina- she’s my personal entertainer.”

The man’s eyebrow, if possible, raised more. “Personal?”

“Did Signora really just imply you’re her whore-” Scaramouche wheezed over their headsets. “Oh, my Archons I’m NEVER letting you live that down-”

“N-not like that!” Childe hurriedly said, nervously laughing it off. “I uh- sing for her events, dance, things like that.”

“...Ah.” The man chuckles again, chest moving slightly with his laugh. He almost sounded… disappointed?

That was another thing about him- his movement, the way he wore the tuxedo which seemed to have been created atom by atom perfectly for him (and yet seemed like he was about to burst through it with a deep breath), the way his neatly trimmed dark hair swept away from his face into a ponytail at the nape of his neck that faded down into a brilliant blonde-orange, delicately shifting with every movement.

The juxtaposition of the slim ponytail’s intricate movement versus the sheer intoxicating overwhelmingness of the man’s presence- 

It left one with a natural wonder of what else could be there, hiding just beneath the surface, left unseen to all but those who were chosen to see it.

“...Katrina?”

Childe blinked, realizing he’d been staring at this perfect stranger for far longer than he probably should have. 

...I have to stay focused. Find the target. Eliminate.

“Yes-” Childe smiled pleasantly, hoping he hadn’t blundered too badly.

“I was just saying that I should probably check on my other guests.” The man said with a small smirk, “Although it was lovely to meet you.”

“...likewise.” 

Then, the man did something very unexpected and very distracting.

He took Childe’s hand softly and brought it upwards, brushing his lips across the knuckles. This simple action sent tingles of burning electricity zapping through Childe’s veins in what could only be described as anticipation , and the redhead tentatively met the intense quagmire of the taller man’s gaze. The man lingered there, in that tense and delicious moment -- a moment that stretched out for a beautifully agonizing eternity.

God damnit.

He pulled away, dragging whatever feeling Childe had just experienced with him.

“I best be on my way.” He sighed slightly, turning to Signora.

“You go entertain, we’ll be just fine here.” She smiled, words caked in saccharine tone but laced with a poison meaning.

Childe nodded, somewhat dazed.

The man gave Signora and Childe one last pleasantry and faded into the background white noise of the smoky club. 

All of Childe’s breath left in one rush- relief, perhaps.

“That went swell.”

“You talk like a boomer.” Childe hissed into his earpiece. “Shut up.”

“Damn, tough crowd.”

Signora gave her comrade a sharp glance. “Enough infighting. We made contact with the target.”

WHAT?!

“Pardon?” Childe blinked in surprise. “That was him?”

She nodded- “Rex Zhongli, Treasurer of the Archon Association. We take him out, and the rest of the Association crumbles.”

“The Tsaritsa gets the sole power she deserves, yada yada, let’s get on with it.”

Scaramouche, pragmatic as ever.

“Right.” Childe frowned. “He just walked off- what am I supposed to do now?” 

“You have your poisons?”

Childe nodded, looking to the nearest security camera mounted on the ceiling. 

“Yes, I can see you-”

The redhead’s next move is to sneakily flip off the cameras… as a mature person would. 

“I can see that too, dumbass-”

Childe snickered a bit, which earned a light slap on the arm from Signora. 

“Can we get on with this?”

Tartaglia took a slow breath and then nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

Chapter 2: Killing But The L's Are Replaced With S's

“...did you really just say ‘ let’s do this ‘? I- this isn’t some movie, you’re not a superhero you dipshit-”

Childe grimaced for the second time that evening. “But my point still stands, how are we going to proceed from-”

That problem solved itself, a few moments later.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt again,” 

That same voice.

Childe hurriedly turned to see none other than that same man from before-  Zhongli- looking slightly harrowed, and slightly abashed.

“What seems to be the problem?” Signora said innocently -- like she hadn’t just been discussing this man’s murder.

He sighed, “Our vocalist with the band seems to have fallen ill. And as you mentioned before that Katrina here is your personal entertainer, I assumed…”

Shit.

“Shit-”

“Oh!” Signora laughed breathily, flicking her hand as if to dismiss the subject. “She’s not working right now, it’d be an overstep of-”

“I’d love to sing for you.” Childe smiled warmly, the same sparkle coming to his eyes that always did when he felt like something was challenging him. 

“What? Tartaglia are you insane? You’re gonna blow your cover!”

Zhongli nodded gratefully, “Your help is deeply appreciated.”

Something about the way he said that word-

“Well then. I suppose you’d better get to it,” Signora raised her eyebrow with a smirk, “You wouldn’t want to leave Mr. Zhongli waiting.”

“Indeed.” Zhongli took Childe’s arm, leading him away from the other Harbinger. 

In just a few moments of wading through the shifting tides of partygoers, they made it to the main stage area, which seemed to be somewhat more clear of the smoke and illusory feel of the other rooms. 

There was a bassist, a pianist, a drummer, and a microphone.

An empty microphone.

I’m gonna have to actually do this.

“It’s all yours,” Zhongli said in a low murmur into Childe’s ear, and the redhead suppressed the shiver that threatened to arc up his spine. 

Childe turned around quickly to face the taller man, “Um-”

“I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly,” He responded before Childe could say anything- “If your voice is half as beautiful as the rest of you.”

Oh. Damn. That was smooth.

“YO PUCINELLA- TARTAGLIA JUST GOT HIT ON BY AN ARCHON-” 

Childe could feel himself blushing, he was sure it was visible even underneath all the makeup Signora had put on him. “Thank you, sir. Really.”

“No need for formalities,” Zhongli grinned slightly, “Now, get up on that stage and impress me.”

Yes sir.

“Absolutely.” Childe giggled slightly, carefully walking up the steps to the stage. 

Zhongli wandered over to the nearby bar, leaning on a stool slightly and thanking the bartender quietly as he picked up a whiskey. 

“Can we try uh- Sing Sing Sing?”

The pianist nods and the drum starts to count off.

Of course, the first few bars of the song go swimmingly. Which was a shock to Childe as much as it was to the guy at the other end of the earpiece. 

“No shit, you can sing.”

Childe’s voice wasn’t anything extremely remarkable, but it was decent enough to get him through situations like this. As a kid, he would make up songs with his siblings to sing for the family.

God, it’d been so long since Childe had seen Tonia or Teucer. 

And then he made the mistake of looking back at Zhongli, 

Who was staring at the redhead with such intensity and unreadable emotion that it made the singer’s breath hitch...

And then his voice cracked.

No- goddamnit-

Gazes flicked up from glasses to stare; some judgemental, some curious.

“P-pardon me-“ he laughed, waving to the pianist accompanying in apology. “Sang this one a few too many times.”

Childe’s heart must be beating out of his chest, loud enough for the drummer to keep time by. 

“Uh- accompanist, be a dear-“ he cleared his throat politely. “Let’s try ‘L.O.V.E’?”

The pianist nodded, and a familiar tune starts playing.

One. Two. One two three four-

“L is for the way you look at me,” He began, his voice less shaky than expected. Childe catches the man’s coin-gold eyes again, they stare straight through Childe’s soul like he knew what the singer had done-

“ O is for the only one I see- “ He continued to sing. 

Might as well push my luck. He looked very pointedly at the man at the bar, giving him a small wink before continuing on. 

“V is very, very extraordinary~” Childe’s breath hitched a bit as the dashing man chuckles, glancing briefly down at his drink before back up at him. 

“ E is even more than anyone that you adore can…” 

Childe smiled at the end of the phrase. Electricity coursed through his blood, it seemed, but he was rooted to the spot. 

Singing to a stranger he’d never seen, yet felt like he’d loved a thousand times.

“Love is all that I can give to you,” The music continues. 

“Love is more than just a game for two-“ Childe watched the man mumble along, keeping Childe’s eye contact unabashedly. The singer looked away slightly- the intensity of Zhongli’s gaze was more forceful this time around -- if that was even possible.

“Two in love can make it, take my heart, and please don't break it…” 

“Love was made for me and you.”

The man winks back.

“Would the lovely fella at the bar come onstage-?” He put on his best bubbly laugh as the piano plays a filler riff. “Seems like you know the words just fine.”

The stranger shook his head slightly, his deep voice cutting through the white noise of the club. “Wouldn’t dream of stealing your spotlight, sweetheart.”

Fuck. I forgot that he thinks I’m a woman.

“C’mon- it’ll be fun!” He placed a hand on his hip. “A duet with me can’t be that bad.”

He chuckled again and stepped up to the stage. “If you insist.”

One. Two. One two three four-

“L is for the way you look at me,” He began this time, voice an octave lower than Childe’s alto. His gaze found the redhead’s again from across the microphone, a curious smile gracing his lips.

“ O is for the only one I see- “ Childe half-giggled, fighting the urge to laugh when he caught Signora making wiggle eyebrows at him from the gathering crowd. 

“ V is very, very extraordinary~”  The handsome stranger smirked as he watches dusty rose settle across Childe’s cheeks. 

“ E is even more than anyone that you adore can…” He finished the chorus languidly, staring upwards at the man. 

The piano began to riff again in the background, giving Childe a chance to speak normally.

“Well sir, you do have a surprisingly nice voice.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you expect it to be bad?”

“U-uh not as such,” Childe grins nervously, “But it’s a pleasant surprise.”

The pianist gave him a small wave, and Childe prepares to sing again. “Harmony?”

Zhongli nodded, “You take the melody.”

One two three four-

“Love is all that I can give to you,”

“Love is more than just a game for two.”

“Two in love can make it,”

“Take my heart and please don't break it!”

“Love was made for me and you.”

The man runs a hand through his hair with an odd grin. “Love was made for me and you.”

Childe returned his blasé faire attitude with a pointed hair toss. “Love was made for me and you.”

The audience broke into semi-rowdy applause as Zhongli stepped off the stage and returned to his seat. 

Childe took a bow and quickly made his leave of the stage, finding a nearby bench to sit down on and attempt to fix the dress he was being forced to wear. 

It was barely half a minute before Zhongli found him again.

“Well, that was certainly an experience.” 

“I’d say so.” Childe frowned, yanking a seam into place on his leg. 

“Strike up a conversation. Be charming. I know that’s hard for you, but try.” Scaramouche added unhelpfully.

Zhongli sat down next to the redhead, letting out a deep breath. He looked somewhat sideways, gazing slightly downwards to look at Childe. The man’s tone had shifted slightly, from the almost dangerous rough quality to something a lot softer. Warmer.

“Your voice is gorgeous after all.”

Ajax giggled slightly. “Thank you. Yours isn’t anything to laugh at either,” He shifts so that he was sitting sideways on the bench, facing Zhongli.

“Maybe Rosalyne would let me borrow you for a few events of my own, hm?” 

“...you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Scaramouche grumbles.

Childe was somewhat unaccustomed to Signora being called by her first name, it took him a moment to realize that Zhongli was even talking about his comrade in the first place. “I think she could be persuaded.”

“But what about you?” He inquired, leaning down a little. “She might be persuaded, but are you?”

“Pardon?”

“Perhaps, work for two people.” Zhongli’s voice dropped in volume just a bit, despite the lack of people in the backstage wing area. “Do some private events for me as well.”

I can’t tell if he’s actually talking about singing or not.

“...I think you have me persuaded, sir.” Childe looked up at him with the best innocent, non-murderous expression he could muster. 

“Excellent,” Zhongli mutters absentmindedly, brushing hair out of the redhead’s face. 

“He’s gonna kiss Tartaglia, isn’t he.”

“Goddamnit, in front of my salad too-”

Childe did his best to completely ignore Scaramouche, which actually wasn’t hard, considering that Zhongli had leaned in to within an inch of Childe’s face. 

He could feel the taller man’s warm breath on his lips, the weight of his gaze. 

And before the Harbinger could think twice, Childe darted forward and closed the distance.

“...you fuckers just kissed, didn’t you.”

This comment from Scara made Childe unfortunately snort with laughter, pulling back from the other man’s lips all too soon.

“...is something funny?” Zhongli tilted his head, smiling lightly but looking as though he was trying not to be offended. 

“No-! No, it’s-” Childe grinned to himself and leaned forward again, pressing a small kiss to the corner of the other man’s mouth. “I’m just imagining the look on Ms. Lohefalter’s face.” 

Archons, what am I even doing-

“Ah.” 

Childe felt the warmth of a hand on his neck, not in a pressured sort of way but in more of a gentle caress. 

“Still- we should be getting back to my guests, and your employer.” Zhongli sighed slightly. There was some kind of look in the man’s eyes, some kind of pertinent analysis that made Childe feel completely exposed, vulnerable to any kind of whim. 

“I- I guess we should.” 

A few more soft kisses later, and the two finally detached themselves from their hiding spot and walked back into the nightclub’s oppressive atmosphere.

...that felt a bit more natural than it should have. 

Am I just that good at undercover work, or-

Nope. No. Absolutely not. 

Childe wondered absently if the security cameras’ reach actually had caught him on film. 

If so, Scaramouche would probably still be laughing his ass off. 

“There she is.” Zhongli settled a hand on Childe’s waist, the grip almost concerningly unyielding. Childe almost thought it felt possessive.

I met this man literally half an hour ago.

There has to be something weird about this-

“Katrina! Mr. Rex- you’re back.” Signora smiled, flipping snow-blonde hair over her shoulder. “Your little performance certainly… turned heads.”

“That’s not all that turned-”

Signora’s eye twitches slightly at Scaramouche’s incessant narration.

Zhongli smiles with a knowing tint. “Ms. Lohefalter, may I speak with you? I believe that Ms. Katrina may want to… divide her working time.”

He makes me sound like some cheap whore.

Ajax mulls over that thought, but then smiles proudly. 

Nah. I’d be a fucking expensive whore. Two million for an hour.

“Her working time?” La Signora eyes Childe suspiciously, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

“Y-yes.” Ajax nods, clearing his throat and entering the conversation. “I believe I could work for both of you, and still do just as well.”

The blonde’s expression changes as she realizes the ease of which they can complete their mission. “...if you’re sure, Katrina.”

Childe resists flinching at the woman’s touch on his shoulder, and nods. “Thank you.”

Chapter 3: Wrong Glass, Dipshit

The rest of that night sat on Ajax’s all-too-exposed skin like thick honey, covering him in sticky tension that he couldn’t brush off, no matter how hard he tried. 

He’d spent over three hours at that opium-drenched speakeasy, posing as a person, no as a gender, that he clearly wasn’t. 

Did Zhongli know?

La Signora had all but shoved him into the club owner’s arms at the mere mention of “retiring to his penthouse for the evening”. 

I guess Signora really is selling me.

And he’d been forced to accept the invitation, forced to gently hold onto Zhongli’s arm as they rode the elevator up, forced to look as non-murderous as possible as the Archon opened the door to his apartment-

“I don’t suppose you’d like something to drink.” Zhongli glanced sideways at the Harbinger as they entered the Archon’s apartment, a darkly decorated yet modern space with high ceilings and an almost clinically minimalistic design. 

Most of the furniture and decor was black, but with accents of shining gold shot through the entire apartment -- as if the walls were made of some kind of black-gold marble. 

“Tartaglia this is your opportunity-” Scaramouche’s voice fizzes into existence.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind.” Childe’s hand subconsciously went to the small pouch under his dress that contained a small tablet, a tablet that would dissolve completely in any liquid. 

And that tablet was the way he was going to kill this man.

“Here.” Zhongli had made his way over in the few moments Childe had to think, and held out a wine glass filled with blood-purple colored liquid. “It’s my personal favorite.”

Childe took the glass, still marveling at the scale of his surroundings. “Thanks- your home is beautiful.”

“I had it custom-built with the building.” He stated nonchalantly, taking Childe’s hand and guiding him further into the apartment. “But that’s not what I wanted to show you.”

Oh god. Does that mean what I think it does? 

For the love of the Tsaritsa, I am NOT going to screw this man. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s just in the next room.” He dragged the redhead around a corner, and there was…

An old gramophone?

Okay, that’s not what I was expecting.

But at least I don’t have to uh. Y’know.

The device sat on its own table in the middle of the room, which was lavishly decorated in black plush chaises and gold cord. 

“I managed to restore this, it’s over 90 years old-” Zhongli walked over to the gramophone and reached underneath the table, pulling out what seemed to be a vinyl disc. “And so, I have a question for you.”

Childe’s interest piqued. “That is?”

Zhongli placed the vinyl on the gramophone’s tray and gently set down the needle. Grainy music started to emanate from the brass structure, and Childe soon realized it was a tango.

“May I have this dance?” 

Ajax smiled and set his wineglass down on a nearby table. “Absolutely.”

“Do you even know how to dance? God, this is just turning into a fucking talent show.”

That was it- Childe decided with a deep breath that he’d really had enough of Scaramouche’s degrading commentary. He reached up to his ear as if to scratch an itch, and switched off his earbud.

“Wait, what are you do-”

Scaramouche’s voice completely cut out, and the redhead’s smile grew ever more genuine.

Zhongli set down his drink next to Childe’s; and extended his hand. 

As the harbinger took it, it was barely a moment later before Zhongli swept him into the dance at an alarming speed, that same iron-strong hand around Childe’s waist.

Oh, Archons.

Childe didn’t actually know how to tango, but fortunately enough he got away with it via all the old-style movies from his childhood and the noteworthy amount of drinks already in his system.

After a few bars, Zhongli let go of the harbinger to a particular movement of the dance, turned away and not observing.

...this is my chance.

Quick as a flash, Childe reached under the hem of his dress and pulled the small tablet from his pouch, and placed it gently in Zhongli’s glass.

It fizzled for half a second before disappearing into the drink.

Zhongli’s is the one on the left. I have to remember that.

And then the dance resumed, as the Archon turned back to face Childe-

It felt like an inflated and high-stakes conversation of chess, strategic moves forward, retreats, moving with each other in tandem at times and in absolute discord at others -- repeating movements that the other had done, and in turn creating your own. He copied Zhongli’s move from earlier when he’d turned away to the beat of the music.

And yet with all that tension, the unknowing, the stress- 

The dance seemed to be done all too soon; and the two men were left pressed up against each other as the music faded away, slightly out of breath.

Zhongli relaxed, laughing slightly as he went to plop down on a couch. Childe followed suit, perching lightly next to him. 

“You certainly are an unpredictable dance partner, Katrina.”

Gods, I hate that- I hate that stupid name-

“Why thank you,” Childe said softly, reaching across the other man to take his wine glass back. “This whole evening has been… more than I expected.”

“I should hope so.” Zhongli’s voice dropped, and he leans in for another kiss. 

Only this time, it was different.

The other man’s facade of calm and decorum seemed to have slipped, just slightly.

His touch was like hunger, pressing forward against Childe until not even dust could stand in his way. Lips like the ocean -- pulling the Harbinger in before releasing him for one breathless moment -- and then slamming full-force back again with more reckless abandon than before.

Childe could taste the wine on Zhongli’s tongue- and felt a hand tangled in his hair, scalp reacting like fireworks on a starry sky in brilliant heat. And for a moment, the world faded into monochrome as his mind tunnel-visioned into this one, singular action. This one sensation, this one moment.

Zhongli reached back to untie the small ribbon that held together his ponytail, a brief movement that gave Childe just enough mental clarity through the lust-induced brainfog to back away slightly, catching his breath in quiet gasps.

Well, there goes any plan I had of not fucking this guy.

I need alcohol for this, goddamn-

Childe downs his glass in one and smiles slightly as Zhongli does the same. 

Or maybe I don’t have to. 

Motherfucker just drank the poison.

But that was all the thoughts that the poor Harbinger could manage to think before Zhongli enveloped him again, eradicating any kind of capacity for conscious thought in the redhead’s brain. 

Maybe it’ll be fun to watch him die after this.

Well, he’d never have that luxury.

Because not but a few moments later, Childe felt his throat start to tighten up. 

Wh- maybe I’m just nervous.

Gods-

But that wasn’t just it- Childe backed away from the kiss in panic, lungs feeling as if they were on fire-

No- NO- 

ZHONGLI’S CUP WAS ON THE LEFT, I TOOK THE RIGHT ONE-

“Something the matter?” 

Childe stared in horror as his chest heaved, finally starting to realize why he’d been so anxious about this before.

On Zhongli’s face was the calmest, most serene smile that Childe had ever seen. 

“W-what did you- d-do-” 

“Hm? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

NO, THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO-

I’m GOING TO DIE HERE-

THIS IS HOW I DIE-

“Unless you’re talking about how I switched the glasses when you weren’t looking, hm?”

WHAT?!

Childe couldn’t speak, he could only breathe in ragged gasps as he felt his lungs get more and more filled with toxins.

“You didn’t seriously think that the Fatui would be able to kill me just like that. I knew the moment I took your hand.”

My hands!?

“Signora said that you’re a singer. An entertainer- then why, perchance, do you have the callouses and the scars of a warrior? Someone adept with a sword?” 

Zhongli roughly took Childe’s hands and turned them over, grinning slightly maniacally. “I’m no imbecile.”

And with that, Childe felt his grip on reality finally breaking, slipping free of his grasp as he plummeted into the cool of the dark as he went numb and fell backward-

The last thing he felt was strong hands wrapped around his waist and the lilting laughing of the loaded-gun voice that escorted him into the abyss of sleep.

Chapter 4: Waking Up In A Stranger's Bed, And Not In The Sexy Way

... sunlight.

Warmth.

Comfy-

Wait, where am I-

Childe sits bolt upright, gasping for air and… not having a problem breathing?

He looks around cautiously, taking in the surroundings and realizing he was in a bedroom, surrounded by what seemed to be black satin sheets and suspiciously similar decor as…

The rest of Zhongli’s apartment.

Oh, fuck.

He rips the sheets off himself, relieved to find that nothing had been disturbed or removed- he’s still in the same dress, had on the same pair of hose, but he’s just in a different place.

“What the fuck what the fuck-” He reaches up to his ear in a panic to re-activate the earpiece, only to find it was gone.

“Shit- Signora’s gonna kill me-”

He attempts to stand and escape from the sheet prison, but fails miserably and tumbles to the floor. He’d just been poisoned, after all, so he’s bound to be a little weak.

“I wouldn’t try to leave if I were you.” 

Zhongli. FUCK.

A second later, the man steps in through the bedroom door with a tray dressed in an unbuttoned linen shirt and the dress slacks from the night before, spotting Childe and looking down on the still-disguised man with a hint of disdain. The choice of outfit reveals to the harbinger how surprisingly muscular Zhongli was.

What’s on the tray? Torture instruments? Syringes? 

Why’s his shirt so- open-

“I brought you breakfast. You must be hungry after being under so much stress.” Zhongli grabs Childe’s arm and hauls the redhead to his feet with utter ease, studying Childe’s every feature with unwavering analysis. 

The harbinger swallows the lump in his throat, “...Thanks.”

Zhongli smiles a little, “Now, get back in bed before you overstrain yourself and reactivate the poison. You’re no good to me dead.”

In what way?! 

“There’s no need to worry,” The Archon continues, almost as if to read his mind. “I didn’t do anything to you, and I don’t intend to. In any context.”

“Nice to know I’m not gonna be tortured, for once,” Childe mutters, cautiously sitting back down on the mattress. “...How’d you keep the toxin from killing me?”

“I didn’t.” He states bluntly, “I thought you’d died, but a few hours later I realized you still had a pulse. Apparently, the poison was never meant to kill.”

What- why wouldn’t Signora have told me that?

“Oh.” Childe frowns as the tray of breakfast is placed on his lap. It’s startlingly lavish, for being held captive in his target’s home- some sort of pastry with fruit, and eggs benedict. “I have another question.”

“Hm?” Zhongli watches as Childe takes a hesitant first bite of food.

“You said that I’m no good to you dead. What are you planning on doing with me?” 

“I guess you noticed that your little earbud went missing,” Zhongli takes something out of his pocket, and Childe realizes with dismay that it’s indeed the small device. “I contacted your employer, whoever that may be. They didn’t tell me any defining information.” 

Is my cover still slightly intact?

“Then what did they tell you.”

Zhongli seems to consider his options. “Only that they wouldn’t allow your blunder to dissuade them.”

Shit. I’m disposable.

“So now you’re holding me hostage or something?”

“In simple terms… I suppose so.” Zhongli sits down on the other side of the bed, stretching slightly and yawning. “They want you back for some reason. My, you’re a lady of a multitude of secrets.”

Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that.

“I guess I am.” Childe laughs to himself. How perfectly ridiculous. “What did you ask for in exchange?”

“Cooperation.” He says simply. “They do what I demand, and after a certain amount of time, I’ll give you back to them.”

“...how long is that?”

“A month.”

Childe’s jaw hits the motherfucking floor. “A month?!” 

“...yes,” Zhongli tilts his head with a curious expression, “That should be enough time to do what I need to.”

“So you’re just going to- to keep me here? Locked up?”

“That’s the definition of a hostage, yes.” 

Childe slumps back on the pillows, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand. “What have I gotten myself into-”

“A complete mess, milady.” Zhongli chuckles to himself and stands, the open part of his shirt shifting. “I have no intentions of locking you in this room, you’re free to roam the apartment at will.”

“I guess I should thank you.”

“You really should.” Zhongli’s gaze sharpens, and his smile becomes a bladed edge. “You’re still incredibly vulnerable.”

Childe gulps. 

Goddamn.

“Although, I should thank you too.” Zhongli raises an eyebrow and walks around the bed to Childe’s side, placing a hand on the headboard and looming over the harbinger. “You’ve put me in quite the advantageous position.”

“Have I now.” 

He leans in a little closer, a dangerous grin spreading across the Archon’s features. “Don’t try and play games with me, would-be assassin.” 

“I don’t plan to.” Childe meets his gaze with a smile of his own as if the taller man had just thrown down the proverbial gauntlet.

I have no options.

What the fuck do I do.

“Is that a challenge?” Zhongli’s head tilts, his pupils tightening.

They almost looked… slitted.

Almost.

The gold of his irises is richer than any coin, as bright and thick as nectar in the dying light of sunset.

That man has sunset eyes, dipped in honey; addictive and sweet and calling out to Childe as if it could be drunk. Whisky on the rocks eyes. Alcoholic irises you could get drunk off of if you looked hard enough.

...like ambrosia.

The nectar of the gods.

"...Katrina?"

The fake name jolts Childe back to reality, tearing his gaze away from those... those eyes-

"-yes," Ajax says, his voice shakier than he would have liked. 

"You didn't answer my question." Zhongli licks his lips, grinning. "Are you challenging me."

"I might be." 

The taller man doesn't back away from where he was quite literally looming barely a foot above Childe, letting the full force of his overwhelming, quite frankly overstimulating presence work its sadistic magic.

"How interesting. The mouse playing games with the cat."

Did he just-

"I think you'll find I'm a lot more than some mouse,"

Zhongli snorts, leaning away.

Childe almost misses the proximity-

Almost.

"And yet," Zhongli tugs at his dress shirt's cuffs, which was still distractingly unbuttoned, "You fell snare to the fucking cheese."

"Murder isn't cheese."

"It works for the metaphor-" The club owner gives him a disdainful look. 

"I can't brie-lieve you've done this." 

DID I JUST MAKE A PUN IN THE FACE OF DEATH.

...FUCK YES.

It takes Zhongli a moment to register the pun, before his mouth falls slightly open in dumbfounded shock. It reveals oddly sharp canines, not quite vampiric but slightly inhuman.

"You need to learn when to shut your mouth-" The loaded-gun voice is deep and rumbly as it swoops toward Ajax, sealing his lips shut with a kiss.

Childe freezes.

 

I can lean in.

Or I can push him away.

 

He opens his eyes as Zhongli continues to kiss him, hands shifting to the man's shoulders.

 

Make a choice- NOW-

Notes:

*loud dramatic gasp*

...HE SAID THE NAME
THE NAME OF THE THING

Chapter 5: Mistakes Have Been Made

 

And Childe doesn’t push Zhongli away.

Not this time.

The hands on his shoulders snake up to clasp behind the older man’s head, brushing against the amber-clasped ponytail. Without asking permission Childe tugs the hair free of its bindings, running his fingers through the silken russet and gold. 

This seems to only spur Zhongli on further, something akin to a growl rising in the man’s throat as he pushed Childe down, sinking into the plush mattress.

One of the Fatui’s legs hooks over the other’s hip -- wanting to draw him closer, reach more, unlock whatever unbridled rage laid behind those barely composed eyes-

But before Childe could completely lose his common sense to the man assaulting his mouth, Zhongli pulled away for air. His breaths were labored, but not in the sense that he’d just exerted himself. 

He truly looked like he was trying to hold something back.

Ajax suddenly felt completely constricted in the tight black dress he was still wearing, he wanted it off.

“I-” Zhongli starts, wiping his mouth from the spit that connected his lips to Ajax’s. Zhongli leans down to murmur against Ajax’s neck,

“I want more.”

Childe nods lazily, beginning to pull one strap of his dress down his shoulder-

...and suddenly remembered where, who, what he was, and what he wasn’t,

“I- OH GODS-” Childe quickly pushes Zhongli back, securing the strap firmly back in place. 

He’d probably kill me if he thought he’d been double-decieved. 

He still thinks I’m a girl-

“Are you alright-” Zhongli frowns, hurriedly standing and beginning to button up his shirt. 

Childe doesn’t respond, just breathing heavily from the sudden nerve-frying anxiety. 

“...that was extremely uncuth of me.” Zhongli looks down, the frown lines around his eyes deepening. “I should leave.”

Again, the redheaded Harbinger says nothing -- but looks up at Zhongli with a mix of emotions. 

“...I’ll come back with dinner.”

Childe couldn’t risk his life by revealing another petty lie, but at the same time he wanted more of that man- his poppy scent that seemed to make Ajax drowsy, the vibration of his voice in his chest-

Zhongli leaves and shuts the door behind him with a small click, and Childe slumps on the bed, heart racing for so many different reasons.

He wanted to get out of this god-awful confusing situation, to go home-

To get back to Tonia and Teucer-

The mere thought of his siblings made him ache to the very core. He hadn’t seen them since he was recruited by the Fatui. The deal he made with his superiors was cutthroat -- his undying allegiance in return for the assurance his siblings would remain alive and unharmed. 

Fuck this, FUCK THIS-

Childe sits up, his eyes dangerously warm with unspilled tears. 

“I have to get out of here.”

He slowly stands from the bed, legs shaky -- but it seemed like he could walk, at least. 

Find the earpiece. Contact Scaramouche. Escape the penthouse.

Easy enough, right?

Ajax looks at himself in the mirror in dismay, part of the dress torn at his hip. Frankly, it was a miracle that none of his ahem- placement adjustments - were visible.

I need new clothes.

His mind wanders back to Tonia and Teucer, before hastily shoving those thoughts away. Getting emotional wouldn’t help him.

So he raids the opulent bedroom’s closets, finding a plethora of clothes that though oversized, would suit nicely. Childe grabs an oversized work shirt, not bothering to discard the undershorts or other, ahem, shaping garments. 

Fortunately, the shirt was big enough to almost look like a dress.

I look weird.

But he’d have to live with it.

Childe sighed and quietly walked over to the bedroom door, opening it as silently as possible and looking into the hallway. The coast was clear; no oddly-built club owners in his sight.

And so, he tiptoes out into the hall. 

There was a small knife that Zhongli had failed to find, hidden inside Childe’s shorts. The fact it was still there proved that the man really had left him untouched while Ajax was unconscious.

Ajax grips the small knife with white knuckles, angling his bare feet to make as little sound as possible as he looked out over the open-plan living room below him.

The bedroom hallway was actually a balcony, stretching above and along one side of the expansive living room. It would make Childe tragically easy to spot sneaking in and out.

The first place Ajax could think of that Zhongli would have put his earpiece was somewhere in a desk. 

Look for an office.

The office itself was relatively easy to find once Ajax made it to the main floor- it had glass walls and overlooked the city as if watching over it. 

The door was unlocked.

YES.

Childe carefully pries open the glass door, stepping inside.

His breath comes in short, shallow intakes as he struggles to remain silent. Ajax carefully turns his back to the door, dagger loosely in hand as he tugs open the top drawer.

....it’s right there.

That was easy.

Childe grins and grabs the earbud, quickly turning it on and setting the knife down on the table to press it into his ear.

“Scara?”

The bud crackles to life, a static-y voice coming through.

“AJAX?!”

Childe was surprised that the other Harbinger called him by his real name, usually it was somewhat taboo-

Was Scara worried about him?

“YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER-”

...scratch that.

“Scara, you have to get me out of here-”

“Out of where.”

Childe’s heart jumps into his throat, incidentally the same throat that felt the sharp end of a knife pressed gently up against it. 

Zhongli had crept up behind him, and he was pissed.

The man’s body pressed flush against Ajax’s back, stoically holding the redhead’s own dagger to his throat. His breath was hot and low in Childe’s ear, and the harbinger could almost see the sadistic grin painted on his captor’s features.

Shit.

Notes:

:)
don't worry, the real shit's coming.
Just wanted to give you a little taste

Chapter 6: If Emotions Were A Potato Salad

“Answer me, Katrina.” Zhongli’s voice is a threat, not a hint of a tremble in his hands. 

Childe takes a breath. “Is it really a surprise that I want to get out of here?”

“No, but I thought a spy such as yourself would know not to provoke me.”

He gulps, taking the earbud out and setting it on the table. “I want to get back to my family.”

“...family?” Zhongli’s voice softens just a hair, and the blade of the knife pulls away from Ajax’s throat. “My experience with assassins has taught me that not many of them hold family connections.”

Ajax doesn’t dare move a muscle, still trapped between the club owner and his desk. His voice is shaky, as he feels the unshed tears begin to well again. “I have- a brother and sister,”

Zhongli takes a step back, giving the redhead enough room to finally breathe. “...what-”

Childe’s hands ball into fists, not turning around as the tears finally slip down his cheeks. “And they’re not safe anymore.”

“Katrina-”

“Because of you.”

He turns, tears running down his face and collecting on his chin- “Their safety depends on my performance. They- they might be dead- Because I failed-”

Zhongli frowns, eyebrows knitting together as he tosses the dagger to the side, clattering off a few feet to the side. He says nothing, letting Childe speak his mind.

“Do you think I’d choose this life?” Ajax hisses, “I hate it. I hate the violence, I hate washing blood off my hands at the end of the day, I just want to go home-”

Childe’s rant is cut off by the feeling of strong arms suddenly enveloping him, holding the redhead against Zhongli’s chest in a hug.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words seem to undo Ajax completely, letting out a rage-filled cry and sobbing into Zhongli’s shirt.

What am I doing?!

This man is holding me hostage-

“I’m sorry they threatened your family-” The man’s voice seems strained, rage blooming in his chest like a bloody rose. “I’m sorry they forced you into this life-”

Childe’s sobs calm slightly, and he settles to rest his forehead against Zhongli’s chest as he listens. 

“I’m sorry they put you in this situation.” Zhongli hugs the redhead a bit tighter. “You don’t deserve this, Katrina.”

Fuck.

Fuck this.

Just- fuck this. If I die, I die.

“My name isn’t Katrina.” He says quietly, balling his fists in Zhongli’s shirt.

“...I figured.” Zhongli sighs, resting his chin on the top of Childe’s head. “Can I ask what it actually is?”

I’m tired of lying.

“My name is Ajax.” 

He feels Zhongli stiffen slightly, before releasing the redhead from his hug and stepping back slightly. A quizzical look passes over his face. “I can’t say I expected that.”

Childe nods and smiles darkly, “You can add fucking catfishing to the list of my infractions.”

Zhongli shakes his head and gives Ajax a genuine grin. “It’s been a while since someone actually tricked me, in any capacity. Consider yourself complimented.”

Ajax leans back against the desk, crossing his arms as his smile loses its dark edge. “So you’re not going to like, just kill me or something.”

“...no?” Zhongli laughs- “Male or female, I still need you as a bargaining chip.”

Oh yeah. That.

“I’m surprised they even care.”

The club owner sighs, moving to perch on the desk beside Childe. “You obviously mean more to them than you think you do.”

“I guess.” Ajax chuckles. “But you have no idea how fast I’d leave if I could get to Tonia and Teucer.” 

Zhongli looks over at Ajax with those golden eyes, one of his hands drifting to the redhead’s waist. “I think we could… help each other’s goals.”

“What do you mean?”

Dare I hope?

“Well-” Zhongli rests his head against the top of Childe’s. “You pretend like you’ve managed to find your earpiece without a problem, and that’ll give us a way to manipulate what they know.”

“Why would I do that.”

“Because,” The golden-eyed man smiles dangerously- “I hold a lot more power than you think. I can deliver your siblings to safety.”

Ajax’s breath hitches, his eyes widening as he hurriedly stands to face Zhongli- “You can do that?! You can get us away from the Fatui?!”

The word “Fatui” slips past Childe’s lips before he could really think about it.

“...ah.” 

Fuck.

“So that’s who’s behind this.” Zhongli sighs, hands settling on Childe’s hips and pulling them together in a comfortable sort of embrace. “I should have figured.”

Why isn’t he… angrier?

“You would have found out anyway.” Ajax lets himself relax onto Zhongli. “So- I suppose we’re working together. Now.”

“I suppose we are.” He murmurs, low voice rumbling in his chest.  

 

===========

 

“Signora. You need to hear this.” 

A very confused and pissed-off Scaramouche sits hunched in what looked like a press van, hoodie pulled up over his head. “That little bitch.”

“What?” The blonde says, still dressed in the smart pencil skirt and blouse from a prior business meeting. “What exactly do I need to hear, Scara-”

“He’s defecting.” The purple-haired twink gives his headset to Signora and leans back in his chair with an angry huff. 

Ajax, in his haste to set down the earpiece, had forgotten to turn it off.

Signora listens for a few moments, perfectly plucked eyebrows contorting into a beautiful rage. “That bastard.”

“Why’d he have to take the job anyway?”

“Because you refused to.” La Signora states bluntly, looking disdainfully at the man in the hoodie. “You’re quite the hindrance.”

Scaramouche scoffs, grabbing his headset back and setting it down next to the indescribable amount of knobs, keyboards, panels, and monitors that made up his little observation station. “Nevermind. What are we gonna do about the situation? Motherfucker just leaked who we are to that- Archon-”

“Ajax has no other information about any of our missions.” Signora shrugs. “He’s but a pawn. He does what we tell him to without asking questions about why. ”

“Psh.” Scara rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean that spilling the proverbial beans to that man isn’t a threat.”

“...point taken.” The blonde frowns, crossing her arms. “I have a plan.”

“Well then, O Lady of plans, tell me. I’m waiting with baited fucking breath.”

Signora brushes off the comment- “We play along. We take advantage of his stupidity and use it to annihilate them both.”

“That’s easy to say. How do we do it.”

She thinks for a few moments before a sadistic smile creeps onto her lips.

“Call Dottore.”

Notes:

Yknow this was supposed to end up as 1) violently kinky smut or 2) angst and breaking of trust but
my heart wanted fluff
so here we are

BUT IM BRINGING IN DOTTORE.

HERE COMES THE *BOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY*
HELLO BOY.
W E L C O M E.

(also: new zhongchi fic out now it's called Till Death Do Us Part)
(but I characterize childe COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY LMAO)
(Here: softer, family man, twink, he just wants love)
(Till Death: DEATH. ABYSS. DESTRUCTION.)

Chapter 7: Keep Going, Or I'll Kill You

Summary:

they finally do the ol' horizontal tango folks

“So what do you want me to tell them-?” Childe says, picking up the earbud and walking out into the expansive living room. “We need a plan.”

“Indeed we do.” Zhongli stays in the office a moment longer, opening another drawer and pulling something else out and tucking it into the waistband of his trousers, against his spine. 

“But- how are we going to get my siblings to safety?” Childe asks, sitting down on a black leather couch. 

“...more hostages.” Zhongli shrugs, sitting down beside Ajax.

“What?”

“I mean-” The man laughs, “I mean when your coworkers come calling, we can trade one of them for your siblings.”

“That seems kinda barbaric.” Ajax sighs, taking a chance and letting himself lean on Zhongli’s shoulder. Zhongli doesn’t move away. 

“If I thought I could bribe them with money, I already would have.” The taller man glances down at Ajax before quietly resting his head on top of the redhead’s. 

“I know.” Childe frowns and plays with the hem of his shirt. “So what do I tell them?” 

“Hm,” He seems to think a moment, staring off into space. “You could tell them I’ll be out of the house tomorrow, around five. Ask them to break in and come get you then.” 

Childe nods. “We’ll be ready for them. But- won’t the two of us be overpowered really easily?” 

“I have a few friends that I can call in.” Zhongli winks. “My personal bodyguard, Xiao, can take down a lot more than you’d think.” 

“I think I saw him at the club.” Childe frowns, vividly remembering that cold glare. 

“Barbatos could probably lend me a few of his people as well.” The man continues on, making a mental list. “I think that’d be more than enough.”

Ajax suddenly feels a lot safer -- the thought that they’d have enough manpower to be protected from the Fatui was a comfort indeed. 

“I hope so.”

“It will be,” Zhongli smiles, turning and kissing Ajax’s cheek before he could think twice. 

They both freeze.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” Zhongli moves to turn away, embarrassed-

And Childe catches him by the chin with one hand, pulling him back into a real kiss.

"I'm just glad you still want to kiss me." Childe laughs after a few moments, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I'm surprised you ever wanted to." Zhongli's voice sounds slightly sad -- as if he thought their previous... embraces had been completely one-sided.

"No-" Childe presses a small kiss to the corner of Zhongli's mouth. "You're the only person I think has ever shown me kindness since I joined the Fatui."

The Archon just smiles warmly, pulling Ajax in again, to claim those lips as his own-

And after just a few long moments of slow, deep kisses, Ajax feels himself being pushed back onto the couch, a hand slipping under the thin fabric of his impromptu outfit. Zhongli's kisses trail from the other's mouth to his chin, then down to his neck. Warm fingers start to tug at the waistband of Ajax's shorts.

"How bad do you want this, Ajax."

A shiver makes its way up Childe's spine at the sound of his name finally being spoken from the other man, not knowing quite how to think between that and the feeling of sharp teeth on the skin of his neck.

"Zhongli-" Ajax's voice is soft, breathy. "Please-"

"Please what?" The loaded-gun voice melts Childe's last resolve. 

"If you don't fuck me till I can't- can't feel my legs, I'll- I'll find a way to kill you for real this time."

Zhongli lets out a low chuckle, before pulling the rest of Childe's undergarments down and off in one movement. "If you say so."

Part of Ajax's lust-muddled brain registers that maybe he's just bitten off more than he can chew, but that part is drowned out by the sudden feeling of something wet slipping into him. 

"O-oh-" 

Childe's breath turns into short, shallow gasps at the unfamiliar feeling, especially without any warning-

"You alright?" Zhongli's rumbling voice pierces through the brainfog, giving Childe a moment.

"Yeah-" Ajax nods quickly, a sloppy kiss finding the other's lips. "Keep going-"

A second finger soon joins the first, and Childe can feel Zhongli grinding slightly against his leg- the front of his trousers being considerably strained at this point. 

"Tell me if any of this too much." That stressed quality returns to the Archon's voice like he's trying to hold a part of him back -- for Childe's own safety. 

"I-" The redhead is struggling to speak; after all, the feeling of being scissored out, stretched from the inside is a distracting feeling indeed. "Stop holding back-"

His fingers pause in their constant assault. "...are you sure?"

"Absolutely-" Childe lets out a masochistic laugh, burying his face into the crook of Zhongli's neck. "Fuck me until I don't know how to feel."

Whatever chains had been holding Zhongli in composure snapped. Those golden nectar eyes became the slitted eyes of a snake, drawing in the redhead's focus until he could thinking of nothing else, want nothing else but the man in front of him as deep and as wholly inside him as possible -- both physically and emotionally.

A dark laugh passes Zhongli's lips, falling just short of a cackle. "You're going to regret that, little assassin."

Ajax hears the sound of a zipper, and then something much bigger replacing the fingers inside him. 

A ragged gasp escapes Childe, his back arching beautifully off the leather couch. "Z-Zhongli-"

The man doesn't respond in the slightest, not even giving the redhead a chance to adjust or prepare before sliding himself in with one motion.

O-oh my gods-

Ajax is reduced to small whines against Zhongli's shirt, not quite able to tell if the pain or the pleasure was causing such a huge reaction within him.

The Archon gives him no pity- pulling his hips back till he almost slipped out, and then wham- hitting Childe's hips with enough force it might have left a bruise. 

Childe's pained moans fill the apartment in sync with Zhongli's movements, each brutal snap of the hips pushing Ajax further towards forgetting everything and just succumbing to the moment, to the man, to the feeling that was this.

Like this, at this brutal of a pace, neither one of them was gonna last long.

The tension in Ajax's core twists to a burning ache -- he kisses Zhongli frantically before-

Childe feels Zhongli come inside him, pleasant white-hot warmth spilling into him. A second later he does the same, ruining a perfectly good shirt. 

It's a good half a minute before either one of them can talk, let alone form a coherent sentence. 

Zhongli's breath is heavy and hot against Ajax's neck, as he smiles-

"I'm starting to love that you tried to kill me."

Chapter 8: Is That Thing Loaded?

Summary:

SORRY 4 BEING GONE. UNI KICKED MY ASS

”What the FUCK is up, Kyle?”

Childe splutters awake, woken rudely from his railing-session-induced slumber by the unfortunate earpiece still… in his ear…

Oh. SHIT.

”Scara-“ Ajax looks to the side, scanning the living room for his golden-eyed lover. There seemed to be no sign of him. “I uh-“

”I’VE BEEN YELLING AT YOU THROUGH THIS DOUCHECANOE OF AN EARPIECE FOR HALF AN HOUR.”

The redhead winces. “How much did you hear…?”

There’s a bit of static and buzz from the other line, frantic scrambling to get another person. 
Odd slapping noises accost Childe’s ear-

“OoH ZHONGLI yoU’Re sO biG-“

”mM YEAH CHILDE YOURE SO TIGHT FOR MY BIG ARCHON CO-“

Childe went pale, the second voice definitely belonging to someone he knew. “Signora?! What the hell-“

”We’ve been in the mission van for a day and a half.” She didn’t sound amused. 

“Ah. Right.” Childe glances around once more, “So uh- guys, listen. I miiiight have done a bit of a fucky wucky here-“

”No shit Sherlock-“ (From Scaramouche this time.)

”Not like that-“ Ajax laughs a bit. Gods, how long had it been since he’d genuinely laughed with his coworkers? “I uh- I think Zhongli is spoiling for a fight. He mentioned Barbados, the other Archons-“

”…oh.” Signora’s voice goes blank. “That’s… a problem.”

”So I think maybe we should delay o-“

”We need to speed things along. Get Pucinella and Dottore.” The fair lady commands it, and Childe can faintly hear the balladeer scramble to comply. 

Ah, the power dominatrixes hold over vertically challenged men. 

“Signora really, if we move now we’re gonna be at war with the whole damn Archon Association-“ 

“Thank you for finding this info, Tartaglia.” Signora cuts him off once more. “Keep him satiated and unsuspecting. Putting coms on blackout until further notice.”

”WHAT-“

The earpiece fades to complete static. Ajax rips it out of his ear and chucks it across the black-and-gold living room in frustration, narrowly missing…

 

”My my, little assassin. You nearly took out my eye.”

 

Zhongli. Thank the gods-

Ajax blinks wildly at the man’s familiar voice, frustrated frown melting into a soft, tired smile at the sight of him. 

The Archon wore a loose black silken shirt, mostly undone to show his chest. Ajax struggles internally not to stare. Zhongli also had his arms full of what looked to be brown paper bags full of groceries, flowers… domestic comforts. 

Ajax is in heaven. 

“I uh- hi, Zhongli-“ A blush creeps onto the redhead’s freckled cheeks. “I um- I just woke up, the other Harbingers were getting on my ass.”

”And I thought that was my job.” The taller man winks with a wry smile before pressing a small kiss to Ajax’s hair and continuing to a sleek, black modern kitchen. 

“They want to move their raid plan up, I couldn’t convince them not to-“ Ajax moves to stand but fails miserably, ass aching in protest. 

Damn thick-dicked Archon motherfucker. 

Zhongli seems to pause, tense for a moment, and then resume putting groceries away. “I… spoke to some friends about our situation.”

Our. Why did the word send tiny shivers up Childe’s spine? 
(Maybe it was just his Russian heritage reacting to communist tendencies, but who knows. It might be love.)

”Barbatos? The last time I checked, he was a bar-crawling twink the Archons keep around because of his sad backstory.” Childe frowns once more. 

Zhongli merely scoffs in friendly rebuke- “That bar-crawling twink is the most dangerous among us, apart from Ei.”

Ei. The name sticks in Childe’s brain. Ei Raiden, the arms dealer of the Archons. Childe’s heard tales of men she de-balled with her favorite sword, yes, sword, in this day and age- Scaramouche told everyone that he’s her little brother. Childe never really believed that one. 

“Isn’t she the zappy zappy bitch…” 

“I wouldn’t call her that to her face if you want to keep your nether regions in tact.”

”Ooh, Mr. Zhongli, don’t threaten me with a good time~”

The golden-eyed Archon raises a perfect eyebrow, jaw clenching just slightly, grip on the groceries tightening just a bit. “I didn’t know you were that kind of girl, Ajax.” 

His tone is teasing and lighthearted, but there’s a riptide-dark undercurrent to the honeyed tones. Curiosity, maybe want.

”Maybe I am.” Ajax returns the previous wink, collapsing down to the couch fully with a dramatic sigh. “So, my clandestine lover man, what exactly do we have when it comes to firepower? The Fatui are gonna give us everything they got.”

”You’ll know when it’s time, my dear.”

The redhead can smell Zhongli before he comes into view, the scent of his cologne wafting to Ajax like warm sunshine after a long winter. It had the scent of sandalwood and rose, daffodil and bourbon. Like a kind of nectar that only the godliest of hummingbirds could sip from this particular, toned, muscly, dilf-like flower. 

Childe remembers the word he was looking for- Ambrosia. Nectar of the gods. 

 

Notes:

I see you, horny 3am readers who only clicked on this because it has an E rating and paragraph breaks
You're valid <3