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Childe sighs as sleep evades him once again. He looks out of his window to see the moon shining brightly over the city of Liyue. He had thought that over time the nightmares from the abyss would come to an end, but they increased in the recent days. Something triggered his subconscious into keeping him insomniac and exhausted.
Childe snorts lightly. He knows what the trigger is. That stupid, old dragon Morax, otherwise known as Zhongli.
Since Zhongli’s betrayal had come to light, Childe had yet to see the retired archon and honestly, he did not want to see him. Zhongli’s indifferent tone when handing the gnosis and the way he didn’t even look at Childe once during the whole exchange pretty much told Childe how the man saw him - a pawn. Which sucked because Childe had liked Zhongli.
Really, really liked Zhongli.
Why else would Childe be running around buying him stuff, paying for his dinners and basically becoming the man's human wallet? Childe had really enjoyed Zhongli’s companionship and he felt as though he had made a true friend after all those lonely, cold years in the Fatui. Just his luck that Zhongli turned out to be fucking Rex Lapis and a bastard to boot.
Childe sighs again, leaning against his windowsill. Truth be told, he should be on a boat back to Snezhnaya by now but a missive from the Tsaritsa to oversee the bank for an indefinite period of time kept him grounded in the Land of Contracts. A year ago, such a missive would have thrilled Childe, the notion of staying in this warm, bustling harbour that was so different to his homeland would have been a blessing to Childe. Now, it was like a curse, shackles that tightened around his ankles each time he step foot out of the harbour and is on the receiving end of mistrustful and contemptuous glares. He has half a mind to yell at the people of Liyue that it is their god who planned the entire thing and he is just a victim in all of this too. By the Tsaritsa does he want to leave this godforsaken place.
Sensing the dangerous train of thought his mind is taking, Childe throws on his coat and signature scarf. Hopefully, a walk around the harbour in its most quiet time will calm his mind.
-
Childe walks quietly along the streets. The lanterns glow softly, guiding his path and he could see some of the preparations for the Lantern Rite festival on display. Last year, he had gone with Zhongli and had listened to man ramble about the history of the rite, watching the citizens of Liyue release their wishes to the sky. Under the golden hues of the lanterns fluttering around them, Childe remembers the soft look on Zhongli’s face, the sharp angles defined in the light. Remembers his heart stuttering, seeing Zhongli gently guide a descending lantern back on its way. Remembers Zhongli’s little smile that shined brighter than all the lanterns floating in the sky.
Remembers falling in love.
Childe’s not stupid. He may not have a mind for manipulation or scheming the way his fellow Harbingers do but he is smart in his own way. When the realisation settles, of his feelings for Zhongli, Childe was smart enough to also realise that Zhongli does not feel the same. The man was always professional even in their countless informal meetings and never once sought him out in a less than required fashion.
Childe’s not stupid.
As he continues with his stroll, he knows now that Zhongli would never feel the same as him, for Zhongli is a god. What is he, a Harbinger, one that almost drowned the harbour, a mortal compared to Morax, the Prime of Adepti, the oldest of gods? Zhongli who still fondly collects glaze lilies, the flowers that his former lover Guizhong died amongst, who reminisces about her even in their conversations with an affectionate, nostalgic tone. Childe couldn’t compete with that. Childe is a warrior. He thirsts for battle and strength. But even he knows when he is faced with a losing battle.
(“Kid, sometimes you need to know there are some battles you never win. No matter how much you fight, you will lose. It is easier to surrender to a loss than to die chasing victory”
The abyss may have left its taint but Skirk had left him knowledge)
As the self-deprecating thoughts cloud his mind, he misses the figure standing in front of him and it’s only his honed reflexes that stop him from crashing into the person.
“Why, hello there.” Madam Ping stands before him, a beatific smile on her face. Childe blinked, before bowing his head in return. “Hello, Madam Ping. My apologies, I was lost in thought.” He apologises.
“No worries, my boy. It is a wonderful night for a stroll, isn’t it? Care if I join you, Master Childe?” Madame Ping’s question throws him off guard but his Mama did not raise him to be rude to the elderly so he nods and offers his arm to help her walk.
They walk in silence for a while before Madam Ping turns to him. “It seems as though there is something weighing you down Master Childe. Your eyes seem to look as though you have not slept in days.”
Childe laughs softly, running his other hand through his hair. “Do I look that bad?” He jokingly asks but a side look from the older woman wipes the smile off his face. Shit, how bad does he look for her to say that? With another sigh, Childe answers, “I haven’t been getting too much sleep lately. Just work that’s all.” He tries to give a reassuring smile to sell the lie.
Madame Ping hums noncommittally and pats his arm. She looks at him once again, her eyes scrutinising. Childe oddly feels as though he is being seen through and resists the urge to fidget like a chided child. It seems as to she found her answer in her gaze because she asks him, “Is there not someone plaguing your thoughts?”
There must have been some expression on his face because the elder laughs heartily and says, “Ah dear boy, it is written all over your face - your heartsickness. I have seen many a young lad and lass wear that look.”
Childe doesn’t know what is more mortifying - the fact that he is apparently heartsick or that he is showing it on his face. His next words come out colder than intended. “I am not heartsick. I don’t have anyone to be heartsick over.” What a lie. Madame Ping seems to feel the same way but thankfully, doesn’t call him out on it. Instead -
“How about I give you a small gift to take care of the burden hmm? I am sure this gift will help you sleep better.” There’s a strange glint in her eyes and Childe feels as though he should refuse but Madame Ping is one of the few Liyuens that doesn’t glare at him and still treats him kindly. “That would be wonderful Madame Ping. Thank you.” He shrugs off the weird feeling and escorts her back to her stand at Yujing Terrace.
“Great! I will send it to your abode tomorrow morning. I do think you will quite like it.” With a final pat on his arm, she walks off to her teapot and Childe treks back to his place. Hopefully, whatever adepti gift she has can help his tired mind.
-
Ekaterina walks into the Northland bank with a headache. Curse Felix and his drinking bets. She is never going to drink with that man ever again, lest his cursed alcohol mixtures send her to an early death. The only reason she does is that he somehow has some of the best alcohol. Rubbing her temples, she walks up to Lord Tartaglia’s quarters, ready to receive orders and give him his paperwork for the day. She knocks on his door and enters to find -
A hallucination.
There is no other explanation. The hangover has muddled her brain to the point she is clearly seeing things. Because there was no way her Lord was having a staring contest with what would appear to be a 5-foot long Exuvia plush.
She looks towards her lord (internally sighing once again at his pale complexion and sunken eyes) and back to the plush toy that was sitting on the chair opposite his desk. She closes her eyes for a while and the image is still there when she opens them. Not a hallucination then. She tentatively calls out, “Lord Tartaglia?”
“Katya?”
“Yes my lord?”
“You see it too right?”
“...yes my lord.”
“It looks like the Exuvia right?”
“...i-it does my lord”
There is a beat of silence and then -
“THAT SLY OLD LADY!”
The plush goes flying along with the chair and Ekaterina resigns herself to another weird day at the bank. At least it wasn’t Felix and his concoctions. Lord Tartaglia walks past the fallen plushie and her, out the door. She hastily follows him.
“Sir, where are you going? There is paperwork to be done and -”
“I AM GOING TO FIGHT AN OLD LADY!”
“Sir!!”
The door slams and Ekatrina is left standing in the lobby by herself. Scratch what she said before, she hopes one of Felix’s weird margaritas sends her to a coma.
-
When Madame Ping had said she had something to help with his insomnia, Childe had thought along the lines of herbal tea or some long-lost recipe for sleep potion. Not a goddamn toy. It wasn’t even the fact it was a toy. It was an Exuvia plushie. A doll made to look like the dragon form of Rex Lapis. Why did she give him that? Did she know that the ginger fatui boy that roams the harbour loves their god? God, that was horrifying. Childe couldn’t handle not knowing. He ran straight to Yujing Terrace, where Madame Ping’s stand usually was set up, only to find nothing.
Madame Ping’s usual stand was gone. Did she leave knowing he would come after her? He looks around, hoping to find her but the terrace is oddly empty, given that it is still quite early in the morning. He even looks behind the bushes, just in case she’s hiding there but there is no trace of her. That devious old lady! Childe feels scammed. What the hell is he going to do about that stupid plush?! He silently fumes as he walks back to the bank and then his bad day turns worse.
Zhongli is there. Standing near the steps of the bank. Childe curses Celestia. Clearly, everyone is out to get him today. It doesn’t help that Zhongli still looks as good as ever, all elegant and poised, ponytail swishing along his shoulder. Childe hates how Zhongli doesn’t look worse for wear like he looks and feels. Goes to show who really took the brunt of the backlash. Asshole.
He ducks into the alleyway behind the bank, in no mood to walk past the god and converse with him. Childe is pretty sure if Zhongli spoke to him now he might either yell at him or burst into tears and his reputation is already in shambles, he doesn’t need his dignity to take a hit. He looks up at the wall and proceeds to scale it. Screw it. It’s not the weirdest thing he has done. Except his attempt at a quick escape doesn’t work when he hears a confused “Childe?” from behind him when he is just a few metres up the wall.
Heat flushes his cheeks. Of course, Zhongli (motherfucking Morax) would catch him in his most vulnerable moments. He contemplates whether he should acknowledge him or just continue climbing but the decision is made for him when a pair of hands settle on his waist and pulls him off the wall.
This scoundrel! How dare he wrap his big, strong hands around him and manhandle him? He tries not to pay attention to the way Zhongli’s hands are almost big enough to cover his entire stomach because that is a dangerous rabbit hole to fall in and Childe has enough problems as it is.
Zhongli settles Childe in front of him, not even breaking a sweat like he didn’t lift a grown man off a wall. Zhongli looks at him with a rather bemused expression, “What are you doing, Childe?” His hands are still clinging to Childe’s hips. Childe decidedly ignores the shudder that runs through him as one of Zhongli’s thumb strokes a stripe of skin at his hip.
Childe sidesteps out of his hold and misses the flash of disappointment on the other’s face. He smiles fakely at the traitor. “Mr Zhongli, what a surprise!” You almost gave me a heart attack you moron! “It’s so good to see you again!” No, it is not. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to. Bye!” I want you to hold me like that and pin me down. Childe runs off before the other man can say anything. If he had stayed, he really doesn’t know what he might have done. The phantom grip of Zhongli’s hands on his waist remains as he walks up the bank and he has to persuade Ekatrina that his face is flushed from the heat, never mind that the weather is cool outside. He sighs for what seems like the umpteenth time in a span of a few days.
Goddamnit, Zhongli, why must you make him feel this way?
-
He wakes up yet again from another nightmare of horror and death. Flopping back on his bed, he wonders if he will ever get a decent night of rest. He looks over at the couch chair in the corner of the room, where something is resting comfortably.
Nope.
Katya had, for whatever reason, decided to leave the thing in Childe’s quarters and now it rests silently on his couch, beady eyes staring into nothing. Childe fights the urge to hiss at it. He tosses around the bed a few more times, trying to settle his racing mind. He swears it is looking at him. But Childe pays it no mind and counts hilichurls to sway his mind to a lull. After counting 54 hilichurls (all that he swiftly crushed in his imagination), sleep still doesn’t return and Childe looks over once again to his couch and -
Nope.
He is not going to do it. He is not going to hug a fucking plush to sleep. Just no.
(The thing looks at him almost mockingly, like it’s tempting him, go on you know you want to)
Childe is a grown man. He does not need a plushie when he sleeps, no matter how soft its body looks or how squishy it feels or how it is the perfect cuddling size - and oh fuck it.
He yanks the covers off and marches to the chair, grabbing the plushie before crawling back into bed. He stares into its beady eyes. “This is a one-time thing okay!” He points at it, lest it gets the wrong idea. “Don’t get too used to this.” He settles back down on his bed and snuggles into the plush. It’s so soft, holy shit. And warm.
(Childe has only ever had one toy similar to this growing up and it was a dolphin that used to belong to his older brother. That plush did not feel like this. Squealer (a name his older sister coined and it stuck much to his childish disdain) was threadbare and most of its stuffing had come out over the years. The Exuvia plush feels like velvet under his hands and it’s big enough for him to drape his whole body over it. Holy Tsaritsa, it’s so big.)
One time, he thinks to himself, relishing in the newfound comfort. He is only going to do this once. And then he will get rid of it.
-
Childe’s never getting rid of this plush. He is also not going to fight Madame Ping. He’s going to send that woman a huge gift basket instead, the size of a Rex Lapis statue. The plushie does wonders. The first night he had slept with it was also the first night he got a decent amount of sleep. Childe audibly gasped in surprise when he woke up to rays of sunlight streaming through his window because he had not slept for more than 3 hours the past two weeks. He proceeds to sleep with it for the next two weeks. Whatever qualms he had about sleeping with a plush was out the window because he was not about to shoot a gift horse (or plush in this case) in the mouth. The plush was staying. It would leave over his cold, dead body.
He is noticeably better ever since he started sleeping with the plush. Katya had commented how good it was to see his face gain some colour and his subordinates seem to brighten now that their boss doesn’t look like a raccoon. He felt better too. The lack of sleep had been weighing his body down, making him more lethargic but now, he feels energised. He even manages to do the dreaded paperwork with ease, much to his and Katya’s shock.
Whatever Madame Ping put in the plush worked miracles.
The plush was now nicknamed Momo (it was either that or Chonkli, and the latter was a bit too close to home for Childe) and it became a permanent resident in Childe’s bed. It even got the best treatment out of all of Childe’s inanimate objects.
He cleaned it every two days with scented soaps he bought from a merchant made specifically for delicate cloth, fluffed it so that it wouldn’t lose its chubby quality and even sprayed some high-end perfume Pulcinella gifted him to keep it smelling clean and nice, and oh is his body thanking him for it. He’s sleeping more now because of the plush, even when it is not time for bed. He takes naps now. Afternoon naps. Childe used to go out and fight whatever monster was roaming around in the afternoon, he never took naps. Now, he looks forward to the afternoon so that he can nap in his office with Momo and be trapped in a snuggle fest. Childe would have been angrier at his softness but with the way he sleeps at night, he doesn’t give a fuck.
He signs the last of the document and grabs Momo, walking over to his sofabed in time for his afternoon nap. This time he lets out a sigh of pleasure. After two long weeks of agony, he was finally rewarded with bliss. His body is better, his mind is fresher and his days seem to be looking up. He quietly hums as he snuggles into Momo further and lets his mind wander off to the land of dreams. Nothing could possibly ruin this day.
-
Zhongli is having a rough few days. No, weeks. It has been 2 weeks, 2 long weeks since he has seen Childe. And Zhongli is running out of patience. He would think that after 6000 years his patience would stretch further, but once again when it comes to matters regarding Childe, he finds himself learning more about himself.
Like how he desperately wants to be with Childe.
When the Tsaritsa had told him she would be sending her youngest Harbinger to conduct the test, Zhongli had kept his expectations to a minimum. He was not, as Hu Tao often implies, oblivious to current gossip. Zhongli was well aware of Tartaglia’s reputation - one of the Tsaritsa’s youngest, a bloodthirsty fiend who sought battles and a cruel, boastful creature. He was basically a maniac, or so the gossipers say. So naturally, based on the rumours, Zhongli fully expected Tartaglia to be a big, brash man or someone resembling a military general or even a lunatic. Tartaglia turned out to be neither. Tartaglia, to his immense surprise, was a boy. Barely a man. But that was not where Zhongli’s problems began.
Because Tartaglia, aka Childe, was a pretty boy. Who looked more fitting to be a young lord’s concubine than a Harbinger.
More than that, Childe was nothing like the rumours suggested. He was exuberant, smiling at all the merchants and chatting amicably with them. He was kind, offering to pay for Zhongli and never getting angry at his forgetful tendencies. He was charming, flirting with the old ladies and play-fighting with the children on the streets. He was bright and beautiful and Zhongli wanted nothing more than to relish in that brightness, to hoard him amongst his treasures. Zhongli had to, more than once, wrangle his draconic instincts down whenever he saw the younger smiling at someone else or flirting with a merchant. He wanted to be the only one Childe ever kept in his gaze. His dragon screeched at him to keep, keep the pretty little mortal and it was only the thought of the contract that held Zhongli’s sanity together.
(The little hip window that fluttered, displaying all of that pretty skin had not helped Zhongli the slightest. He wanted to cover it so no one else could see it and yet, wanted to rip it wider to see more of Childe. The list of Zhongli’s problems grew.)
On a whim, Zhongli decided to gift Childe the chopsticks, fully knowing the other would probably have no clue to its meaning. But seeing Childe’s delighted face and smile at having received a gift from him, seeing him receive said gift with no hesitance, temporarily sated his inner dragon at the subtle claim he has placed. His fangs ached with the need to make a bolder claim, a mark mark him decorate his skin with your bite, but he forced himself to be happy with Childe’s acceptance. He went back to his home that night, an itch under his skin and countless images of Childe writhing under him, his bite adorning that slender neck.
But it was at the Lantern Rite when Zhongli had understood the depth of his feelings. Childe had asked him to accompany him to the Rite and Zhongli had acquiesced. He wasn’t going to turn down any reason to spend time with the younger. Zhongli had taken him up Mount Tiansheng, to a spot that oversaw the whole of the harbour. They had spent the evening nibbling on take-away food from Wanmin and Zhongli had regaled Childe with tales relating to the Rite. And then the lanterns were released. Zhongli glanced at Childe and his breath caught. Childe was swathed in the golden hues of the lantern, heart-shaped face aglow and there was a glimmer behind his normally dull eyes. He was laughing delightedly as the lanterns floated their way, brushing past his ears and red locks.
He looked ethereal.
Zhongli knew then that it wasn’t just carnal instincts that kept drawing him to Childe. An emotion he had not felt in a long time encaptures him.
Zhongli loves him.
He loves Childe’s easygoing attitude, the way he always listens to Zhongli whenever he rambles, his adorable struggling with chopsticks, his beguiling charms, his somewhat childish delight when it came to trying new things, his soft innocence hidden under all his layers, his pure love for his family. Zhongli loves him. And Zhongli so desperately wanted to make Childe his.
But the contract was still in place, and Childe was still a Harbinger meant to wreak havoc on Liyue Harbour. Zhongli knew that if Childe were to find out about the contract, he would cut all ties with Zhongli. Worse, he might leave Liyue, leave Zhongli. And Zhongli didn’t know how to feel about that. Logically, he knows Childe is his own person and that should he choose to leave, he would be within his rights to do so. But Zhongli, the dragon and the man, so hopelessly in love with, wants Childe to stay, by his side as his mate. As his partner.
So, Zhongli takes a risk.
A month or so before he fakes his death, he sends a letter to Tsaritsa. Under the guise of needing mortal guidance so as to better blend in Liyue, he had requested she let her youngest stay longer. It had gone as well as he had expected.
The Tsaritsa sends back a 15-page long letter; the first 5 cursing him, the next 5 describing in detail all the many flaws that made him, in her words, “a shit excuse of a mortal” and the last 5 demanding as to know why he was modifying the contract. Zhongli had foreseen this. There was no way the Cryo Archon was going to let this slide without a proper explanation. So, he sends back an honest reply.
I love him.
(There was a period of time when the Tsaritsa had taken pride in being the God of Love. Zhongli remembers eons ago when she used to bless couples in their unions and children at birth. But Celestia had taken something from her which she could not get back and Zhongli watched by the sidelines as Myrna, the God of Love, evolved into the unrelenting Tsaritsa. Yet, Zhongli knew that deep in her heart of hearts she still cared for her people, her Harbingers whom she considered family, and she would not stand in the way of their love, not in the way Celestia had once done so for her. )
The next letter is shorter, letting him know that she would be assigning Childe to the Northland bank for an unspecified amount of time as an extension of the contract. In her last page, though she highlights that should her youngest ever feel homesick and wished to return, she would allow him. Her message is clear.
If he wishes not to stay, let him go.
Zhongli is going to everything within his power to make Childe stay. Even if he has to grovel, beg or fight the boy, he will do whatever he needs to keep Childe in Liyue.
-
If Zhongli had thought his problems had ended, he had seriously miscalculated. Zhongli had expected Childe to confront him, to challenge him to a fight. Archons, he had even taken into account the possibility that Childe would not wish to see him for some time.
He hadn’t expected Childe to evade him for two whole weeks.
He knows Childe was still in Liyue, courtesy of Xiangling, who informs him that Childe was ordering takeaway occasionally.
“Oh, Mister Childe was just here Mister Zhongli!” She had told him, in her usual cheery tone. Her next words were worrying. “He didn’t seem to look all that good though.”
After inquiring further, Xiangling let him know that Childe looked sickly and pale, and “It seemed like he also lost some weight!”, as though he hadn’t been eating or sleeping well. Zhongli was understandably worried about Xiangling’s report of Childe. Was he sick? Had something happened to him? His inner dragon was furious that his mate was not feeling well, protect must protect mate keep him safe and healthy and Zhongli too was upset at this newfound development. He went to seek Childe out, to check on him (and to apologise), as he had originally planned. Except -
Childe is nowhere to be found.
Zhongli knows he is coming out, if the merchants are to be believed and he knows he is at the bank, seeing several Fatui members diligently carrying out tasks their boss sent them to do. He just wasn’t there when Zhongli was.
Two whole weeks and Zhongli hadn’t come across Childe once, and it was beginning to agitate him. How was he going to make Childe stay (with him) if he couldn’t even find the other?
No matter. He still has time. He makes his way to the Northland bank, early in the morning, hoping to catch Childe leaving or in his quarters. He is nearing the steps when he feels something move behind him. He turns around, to see a flash of ginger and his heart almost stops because that has to be Childe. But why on Teyvat, is he going into the alley? Zhongli follows him and is greeted with a rather ridiculous (but endearing) sight.
Apparently, Childe’s tactics to steer clear of him is to climb up the wall. A part of him is vexed that Childe is going to such lengths to avoid him. The other part is ogling at Childe’s voluptuous rear. Zhongli stares for a while at the Childe’s ass before he sees that the other is slowly making his way up the wall. He calls out to him.
“Childe?”
The man in question stills. Childe doesn’t respond to him and he can see his hands flexing as though considering if he should just continue. Zhongli, sensing an opportunity, reaches out to the Harbinger’s waist to pull him off. Childe has avoided him for two weeks and Zhongli’s had enough.
His hands grab Childe’s waist, and oh Celestia how was his waist so tiny? Zhongli’s arousal peaks when he notices his hands are almost touching. How is Zhongli supposed to go about his day, knowing Childe’s waist for the perfect size for him to hold and grab as he thrusts into him from behind. This mortal is driving him insane.
Childe wriggles a bit at his manhandling, which only adds to his lust. He places Childe in front of him, delighting in the slight blush splashed across Childe’s cheeks and asks him, “What are you doing, Childe?” His hands are still on his waist, and Zhongli uses this moment to sneak a touch of Childe’s hip through the open coat of his uniform. He hides a smile when his touch ignites a shiver from the ginger. He glances over Childe, and worryingly enough Xiangling’s assessment was right. He notes the eyebags under Childe’s eyes and the disturbing paleness of his face. Anxiety grips him. Was something going on with Childe?
Before he can voice out his concerns, Childe steps out of his hold and smiles widely at him (to his disappointment). Zhongli’s heart hurts a bit at the obviously fake smile his love is flashing him. In a quick flurry, Childe speaks, “Mr Zhongli, what a surprise! It’s so good to see you again! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to. Bye!”
By the time Zhongli can register what he said, Childe had dashed off and he is left standing there alone in the alley. Frustration wells up within him. Childe didn’t even let him speak. Not only that, he had acted so fakely in front of him. Clearly, something was going on. He pinches the bridge of his nose, rethinking his game plan. He briskly walks out of the alley, determination simmering under his skin. He will speak to Childe and find out what was going on, and then commence his courting.
He walks away, the skin of Childe’s waist lingering on his gloves.
-
Two weeks later, Zhongli stands before the Northland Bank once again, with a bottle of osmanthus wine and a box of mooncakes. He had decided to let Childe cool off and approach him slowly, as one might with a wounded animal, though the analogy is not off given the circumstances. It had been torture, another two long weeks without Childe’s presence or scent surrounding him.
(Director Hu had offhandedly remarked that Zhongli was walking around like a scorned lover and that it was ‘cramping the workplace vibes’. It boggled him to no ends what kind of ‘vibes’ a funeral parlour could possibly have, yet had to merit the Director for her observation.)
He walks up the flight of stairs and enters the bank, blinking in surprise at the harried state of some of the agents. He makes his way to the receptionist, Ekatarina, and finds her buried in a stack of papers. He clears his throat, and the receptionist lifts her head up, a slight “Oh!” escaping her lips.
“Mr Zhongli! How may I help you?”
He frowns a little at her nervous smile but still perseveres. “Is Master Childe available? I would like to meet with him,” He asks politely and to convince her, he adds a little lie. “Actually, I believe he is expecting me.”
Ekatarina visibly relaxes and directs him to Childe’s office. Clearly, his white lie of having an appointment with her boss had soothed her nerves.
“He is in the office today. He might be doing some paperwork though or taking some rest.”
Zhongli thanks her and walks towards Childe’s office. Now, only a large oak door was keeping him separated from his beloved. He knocks lightly but there is no response. Worry clouds him once again. Given Childe’s stature the last he had seen him, maybe he was overworking himself to exhaustion. What if he collapsed? What if he had fallen dangerously sick?
Unable to tolerate the anxiety, Zhongli sends a soft pardon to Childe internally and enters his abode and -
Childe is asleep. That is good. He is just taking a nap, most likely. But what is that he is holding?
Zhongli prides himself on being a rational person. He knows that due to, primarily, his godly nature, he is less prone to irrational behaviours. All of that goes out the window at the sight of Childe, his Childe, hugging an Exuvia plush toy. An Exuvia plush toy.
Because he cannot control the surge of jealousy he feels at the sight.
Why was Childe hugging such an inferior mimic of him? And so intimately? That thing had Childe’s legs wrapped around it. Those legs should only be wrapped around Zhongli. The dragon within him only fuels the jealousy, at the fact, its mate was in the arms of another dragon, even if it was a copy of him.
A growl escapes from him. If Childe had wanted to hug a dragon to sleep, he’s right here. He wants to yank that imposter from his love’s arms and burn it. Maybe bury it under a mountain.
Unbeknownst to him, Childe stirs, the noise of Zhongli’s brewing hatred and perhaps the stench of envy, awakening him. Zhongli is too busy glaring at the offending object when he hears a squeak. He shifts his eyes to see Childe, his arms still holding the blasted thing, staring at him in horror and embarrassment. Childe scrambles off his couch, gently setting the toy back (that thing deserves none of the ginger’s gentleness, Childe should’ve flung it) and stutters, “Wh-what are you doing here Zhongli? Who let you in? Why are you here? You can’t just - what are you doing?
Zhongli stalks up to him, relishing in Childe’s flushed face and the way he is inching back. Silly Childe. He is not going to be able to run now. “Childe,” He speaks in a dark tone. “Care to explain That?”
-
Childe wants to drown in the ocean. He wants to go out to the harbour, tie himself to an anchor and just drown. Zhongli is in his office. Zhongli is in his office where he had been napping with Momo. Momo. The Exuvia plush toy. Any embarrassing moments that he has ever had in his life pale in comparison to this. He tries to cover up, focusing on Zhongli’s unforeseen presence.
“Wh-what are you doing here Zhongli? Who let you in? Why are you here? You can’t just - what are you doing?”
Childe diversion doesn’t work as Zhongli starts to walk towards him and oh God, he is looking at Childe like a predator would to a prey. He can feel his face heating up with embarrassment and he slowly steps back to get away from the adeptus but Zhongli crowds him quickly. Childe seriously needs his body to cooperate because now is not the time for him to get a hard-on. He is so focused on not focusing on Zhongli he almost misses out on what the other says.
“Childe, care to explain That?”
Childe follows Zhongli’s gaze to see what he is referring to and his face heats up further when the that in question happens to be Momo. Childe curses Madam Ping and his past self. He should’ve gotten rid of the toy. Curse Momo for being so soft and cuddly.
Instinctively, he wants to deny it and be defensive but he knows that there is no way to get out of this given Zhongli has probably already seen him napping with it. So he decides to do the next best thing. Own his shameful hobby like a pro. “That is Momo. He’s my sleeping buddy. You got a problem with that, Morax?” Childe says in fake pride, a lilting tease in his voice.
Whatever he is expecting Zhongli to do, he does not expect him to transform into his half-dragon form. Oh fuck. This is bad. Childe’s arousal, fear and embarrassment turn up several notches. Zhongli is visibly bigger in his half-dragon form and more beautiful. Bronze horns curling up at his temple and long flowing hair, geometric tattoos lining his sleeves and a white godly coat fluttering around him. This is Morax, Rex Lapis, the god. The god he is in love with. Childe is so screwed.
“Throw. It. Away.”
Childe, enamoured by Zhongli’s new appearance, takes a moment to respond. And immediately, he is scandalised by Zhongli’s demand.
“No! Why would I throw Momo -”
“Stop calling it that!”
“That’s its name! And I am going to keep it.”
“No, you will not!”
There is a seriousness in Zhongli’s face that Childe has never seen before and he does not know how to handle it. It’s just a toy. And why is Zhongli so worked up over it? Sure he may have avoided the god, but surely this can’t be the first thing he chooses to say after all those weeks of absence.
Suddenly, Childe is overwhelmed. It’s been nearly a month since he’s seen Zhongli, and now he’s here, in his office, and instead of talking, like a normal person, he’s ordering Childe around. About Momo, of all things. The embarrassment fades into anger and frustration, and he can’t even control his outburst.
“What is wrong with you? You can’t just come here and demand things from me! Wasn’t it enough to use me and discard me like I was nothing to you! You barge in here, without my permission moreso, and just start growling like a, like a caveman! And-and Momo is my toy! You don’t get to tell me what to do! I have been having a shit few weeks because of you and Momo helped me! Because of you, I haven’t been able to sleep or eat or do anything really and now you’re here all you can care about is that! You don’t get to choose when to come into my life and demand things from me because it is so much harder when I LOVE YOU!”
Childe recoils, the fight sucked out of his flurry of words. He just confessed. His hand flies up to his mouth and shuts his eyes tight. Oh god, what has he done. He needs to leave. He doesn’t even want to open his eyes to see Zhongli’s response. His ears are ringing and he can’t think of anything else but to leave, leave leave leave, before Zhongli says anything.
He turns to walk away, towards his room but an arm grabs him, pulling him back and he is crashing headfirst into Zhongli’s chest. “You! What are you - Let me go!” Childe struggles against Zhongli’s hold. Is this some newfound way to reject someone? He opens his mouth to protest some more before a mouth descends onto his, engulfing him in a kiss.
Childe can’t even fight back. Zhongli kisses with a passion, a fervour that he wouldn’t associate him with. It feels possessive. Like a dragon claiming treasure. Childe feels like he is being owned and cherished, with the way Zhongli kisses the breath out of his lungs. Literally. Childe is slowly feeling lightheaded, both from the kiss and the confusion, because why is Zhongli kissing him?
Their lips part, with a small nip to his lip that sends a shudder down Childe’s spine and all Childe can think is that Zhongli has an odd way of rejecting people.
“I’m not rejecting you, Childe.”
Childe looks up Zhongli in shock and mortification. He said that out loud didn’t he? His mind has gone blank from the kiss. A tattooed hand cups his cheek, and Childe can’t help but lean into Zhonglis’s touch.
“Childe,” Zhongli begins, solemn and sincere, “I have been trying for the past month, to talk to you, to apologise to you, to explain to you that I never, never, saw you as a pawn. True, that I had intended for you to bring chaos to the harbour as per the contract but,” Zhongli tightens his arm around him and caresses his cheek softly, eyes going fond. “I never saw you as something to be discarded. Childe, you brought light to my life, companionship. You reminded me of how humans can be so complex. You are kind, smart, innocent yet so mature, brave and a fantastic warrior. And you are so, so beautiful Childe. How could I not love you?”
Oh. Oh.
“You love me?” he repeats softly. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think Zhongli would reciprocate his feelings. Or speak of him in such a sweet manner. ‘Light of my life’, Childe has never been described as a ‘light’ before. Ever since the Abyss, he’s conscious that a part of him has been corrupted, darkened by the foulness of the Abyss. To hear Zhongli utter such words is a novelty for him.
“Childe, I have been seeing you as my mate,” Zhongli reiterates, hand still cupping Childe’s cheek. He leans down to nuzzle Childe’s collarbone. “Do you know how jealous I would get whenever I saw you looking at someone else other than me? I wanted to show everyone that you are mine.” A light nip on his collarbone. “When I saw you flirting with the merchants, I wanted to claim you then and there.” The lips trail higher. “And then today,” Childe yelps as a harsh bite lands on his neck, and he looks down to see Zhongli frowning. “You were holding that, that replacement -”
“Hold on.” Childe pulls slightly away from Zhongli, displeasing the other with his movements but he needs to see Zhongli’s face. “Were you, were you jealous? Of Momo?” He questions incredulously, staring straight into golden orbs. Said eyes brighten and Childe can feel a rumble against his chest.
“If you want a dragon to sleep with, you come to me.” And any words Childe has in response to that is swallowed by Zhongli.
-
All of his week-long planning has gone out the window. Zhongli intended to sit Childe down, speak with him in a calm manner, apologise profusely and ask for permission to court him. The toy threw him off. He didn’t mean to start arguing with Childe, over the stupid toy regardless, but he just couldn’t control his bubbling jealousy. Just when he thinks things are going downhill, Childe explodes at him. It is painful, hearing Childe think that Zhongli thinks of him in such a way. He wants to interrupt, shake Childe by the shoulders and reveal his feelings. But like always, Childe surprises him.
Hearing Childe’s confession sent sparks running through his body. Childe loves him. Loves him back. Judging by the look on his face though, Childe didn’t mean to say that. And before Childe can run away again, Zhongli decides to say fuck it and kisses him.
The kiss does its job of grounding Childe in his arms and Zhongli sees his chance to correct all the wrong ideas Childe has of him. Childe has no idea how much Zhongli loves him. Zhongli has felt love before but not in the invigorating, bone-deep, zealous way he does when he is with Childe. Childe excites him, mystifies him, calms him. He would do anything to keep this man in his arms.
He sulks almost when Childe asks him if he is jealous of Momo. What a weird name. Zhongli is going to make sure that thing never finds its place near his Childe ever again. He is going to claim Childe so thoroughly even Celestia won’t question their bond.
Childe’s lips are soft, chapped slightly at the edges, and oh so delicious. Zhongli can’t get enough of Childe’s taste. All he can think of is Childe Childe mate pretty mate mate mine M I N E. Childe’s scent, Childe’s soft moans, Childe’s skin, surrounds him. He feels devoured even when he is doing the devouring. Childe breathes out heavily, trembling in his arms from his kiss and god he looks divine. Zhongli may be a god but he is more than willing to worship at the altar of his beautiful mate.
“Wait, wait, hold on just a sec. Did you say, mate?” Childe huffs out, barely managing to disentangle himself from Zhongli’s attack. “What does…what does that mean exactly?”
Zhongli continues to make his way down Childe’s neck.”It means,” Zhongli sucks a bruise on his neck, ”you are mine. My pretty little mate, my wife.” Zhongli feels more than sees Childe’s arousal, his scent getting sweeter. “Wife? I’m a man, you know!” Childe squawks, deliberately holding his arm to his face to hide his blush.
“So? Gender is irrelevant to me. My dragon sees you as my mate. I think you’d make a fantastic wife,” Zhongli smirks. He pulls Childe’s arm away, gazing deep into the other’s eyes. “Would you like that? Would you let me court you, Childe?” He sucks another bruise near Childe’s ear. “I need to hear you say it.”
He looks back up. There’s an uncertainty in Childe’s eyes like he doesn’t know if this is real or not. Zhongli feels his heart squeeze a little at how young Childe looks at the moment, vulnerable and unsure, almost like a young maiden dealing with a suitor for the first time.
“Childe, I promise you,” He lifts Childe’s hand, and lays a small kiss to the back of it, nuzzling into the palm. “I won’t hurt you, ever again. I love you truly. If you say no, I will leave. I promise you.” Zhongli’s face matches the sincerity in the tone. As much as he wants to make Childe his, he would never want to push the younger for something he is not ready for. Especially given that they reconciled not too long ago.
“Ajax.”
Zhongli’s expression turns confused before a realisation dawns on him. Ajax. Childe’s real name. How fitting. “Well, Ajax, would you let me court you?” A mischievous glint flashes across blue eyes.
“I think you should claim me, husband.”
This man. This brilliant, beautiful man. Zhongli is going to ravish him.
He lifts Childe up, over his shoulder, taking the younger by shock. “Well then, if that’s what my wife truly wants.”
He transports them to his domain, near Tiansheng Mansion and throws Childe onto his bed. He looks good, sprawled over Zhongli’s silk sheets. Zhongli wants to see him in nothing but the finest silks and Zhongli’s colours. He wants everyone in Liyue to know exactly who Childe belongs to. Childe looks up at him with hooded eyes, as Zhongli begins to undress.
“I hope you’re prepared baobei, for a dragon to ravish you.”
He swoops down, finally having Childe in his arms.
-
Childe doesn’t know how long it has been, waves of pleasure tiding over him. He lets out another sob as a forked tongue flicks over the head of his cock. Yes, a forked tongue. Because Zhongli was a dragon and dragons have forked tongues. Childe had nearly jumped out of his skin when he first felt it against his own but he has no complaints about this development. He hadn’t known what to expect when Zhongli spoke of claiming him back in his office, but it certainly wasn’t hours of licking, biting and teasing his sensitive spots.
Once Zhongli had thrown him on his bed, he had proceeded to none too delicately rip Childe’s clothes off and eat him out like he was a starving man. Childe couldn’t do anything but writhe and moan as the same forked tongue fucked into him mercilessly, wringing an orgasm out of him. And then, Zhongli sucked his cock, flicking his tongue into the slit and squeezing his thighs with a bruising grip. After that, Childe thought the main event was about to begin, but instead, the infuriating man started to rim him again. Childe has cum three times now, and Zhongli’s cock is not even in him yet.
“Zhongli - ah not there - Zhongli please, please, no more,” Childe begs. At this point, Childe’s not sure what he even is begging for. Zhongli seems to pay him no mind, continuing to swirl that damned tongue around his cock. “No more? Your body seems to be saying otherwise.” Zhongli lifts his head up, dragging a long finger along the underside of Childe’s cock. Childe arches his back at the feather-light touch. His body is so sensitive at this point, Childe feels like he might cum at the slightest caress.
“You’ve been, been doing this for ages, you perverted dragon!” Childe hiccups, a blush running down his chest. Zhongli has taken to sucking his nipples once more, the pale nubs red and chafed from his relentless assault. Zhongli pulls away for a moment, appreciating his handiwork and chuckles lowly. He leans down to bite Childe’s ear. With Zhongli hovering over him like this, Childe is more acutely aware of how much bigger Zhongli is. Normally, Zhongli just has a few centimetres over him but now, he towers over Childe, engulfs him almost. Childe’s never felt smaller.
“It’s not my fault you taste like the sweetest nectar.” He kisses Childe, pulling a few whimpers out of the younger man. “Is my mate getting tired already?”
“Ha, I am a Harbinger, one of the Tsaritsa’s finest! I won’t get tired from a few rounds,” Childe gloats, trying to push Zhongli’s buttons. If this man thinks he’s in for some vanilla sex, he’s thought wrong. His cockiness is short-lived when two fingers are suddenly thrust into his wet hole.
“Don’t say another archon’s name when you’re in my bed.”
Zhongli is thrusting and spreading his fingers into Childe’s hole, the slap of his palm against his ass joining the other obscene sounds in the room. Childe bucks, his senses going haywire.
“Let’s see, Tartaglia, if you live up to your statement.”
Childe lets out a loud moan when Zhongli’s fingers find his sweet spot. He pushes his hips down, trying to get Zhongli’s fingers deeper in him. He feels sharp teeth against his neck, the pain of Zhongli’s bite adding to the liquid pleasure his fingers are giving him. A third finger joins and Childe sobs anew.
“Such a pretty little mate. Taking my tongue and fingers so well. Do you like it baobei? Hmm? Like my fingers? Tell me, Childe.” Zhongli angles his next thrust directly at his prostrate and Childe’s hands scramble for purchase against the silk sheets.
“Like, hnnng, I- I like it Zhongli, please Zhongli, more, more please”
Zhongli huffs, amusedly. “Does my Ajax want more? Whatever my mate wants, he gets.”
Zhongli removes his fingers, soothing Childe’s whine by stroking his thigh as he positions himself at Childe’s entrance. Childe’s breath hitches at the sight of Zhongli’s cock. Holy fuck, Zhongli is going to split him open and that thought shouldn’t arouse him so much. A look of nervousness flashes across his face because will it even fit? Zhongli must have sensed his unease, because he’s leaning over Childe again, cupping his face gently with a soft look in his eyes.
“Don’t worry Childe, I promised, didn’t I. I won’t hurt you, love.”
The sweet words fluster and calm him, and Childe nods shakily. He bites his lips and tugs a lock of Zhongli’s hair playfully. The bravado from earlier has dissipated and Childe is man enough to admit when he is out of his depths. “I know. It’s just - it’s my first time you know? So go easy on me,” Childe says, a small smile on his face.
Zhongli’s eyes darken and his grip on his thigh tightens slightly at that admission. “I’ll try,” he breathes out. He pulls Childe down, a hand on his waist and another on his thigh, before pushing in. Fuck. Zhongli is so big, he can feel every inch of his cock. Zhongli bottoms out and Childe goes as taut as a bow. Zhongli gives him some time to adjust, kissing his neck and massaging his thighs. Oh fuck, Zhongli is going to ruin him for anyone else, isn’t he?
“You are not going to need anyone else, Childe,” Zhongli pulls out, leaving just the head before slamming back in, “You are my mate, my wife, my Childe. No one else is ever going to have you. Not when I have claimed you.”
Childe wails as Zhongli continues to fuck into him with abandon, soft “ah”s punched out of him. “Ah, Zhongli, Zhongli, please, please, please, more, more, please Zhongli. Zhongli, Zhongli,” Childe cries, desperately clutching Zhongli’s arms, the pleasure making his mind go blank. Zhongli rumbles, complying with Childe’s pleas.
“That’s right, Childe, chant my name,” Zhongli growls, cock drilling into Childe’s body. “Let everyone know who exactly is fucking you.”
Tears spill from Childe’s eyes, as Zhongli’s cock continually presses at his prostate. He feels his abdomen tightening and moves his hand to grab his cock, before a larger hand grips his wrist, stopping him from finding his release. He sobs at Zhongli’s cruelty, hand pinned against the bed.
“No baobei, you will only come from my cock,” Zhongli snarls. His hair frames his face, the dark look in his eyes making him every bit a wild beast. He is fucking Childe like one too.
Childe thrashes under Zhongli, cock hanging heavy and red on his stomach. “Let me come, please please Zhongli, please.” Childe doesn’t even care that he’s begging like some slut, he just wants to come. “Please Zhongli, lemme come please it hurts, you promised, you promised-”
“Shh, baobei, it’s okay. You’re doing so well for me. Look,” Zhongli presses down on his bulging stomach, tearing a silent scream out of Childe’s mouth. “You’re taking my cock so well. Such a good mate. Made for my cock.”
Where did Zhongli learn to speak like that? Childe is drowning in pleasure and praise, his senses narrowed down to just Zhongli’s words and cock. He gasps when Zhongli pushes his thighs back down, feet almost near his face and Childe moans louder at how deep Zhongli is in him.
“Hahh, Zhongli, you’re - you’re so deep inside ah,” Childe groans. His eyes roll back as Zhongli fucks into him with newfound rigour.
“Wanna fill you up Childe. Would you like that? Keep you full and sated with my come. With my eggs. Wanna see you round with the clutch I gave you, my claim. Keep you on my cock all day, hmm Childe? Never leave you empty.” Zhongli’s thrusts lose rhythm as he sucks more bruises over Childe’s neck and chest. “Everyone would look at you and know, know it was me who got you pregnant. Know you’re my mate. My perfect, little mate. Would you like that?”
Childe’s too far gone to register properly what Zhongli is saying, only responding with, “Yes, yes Zhongli, fill me with your come. Please, please Zhongli, wan’ your come, wanna have your babies please please -”
Zhongli roars as he fucks harshly into Childe, filling him up with his come, and Childe’s orgasm soon follows, white streaks painting their stomachs. Childe pants as he comes down from his high and almost immediately, exhaustion seeps into Childe’s body and he’s out cold before he knows it, only feeling a warm hand brush against his face as his eyes close.
-
Childe wakes up to a heavy weight behind his back. He fidgets a bit to nudge it off before realising those are arms around his waist is Zhongli. He sits up against the bed, wincing at the ache his body is in. He looks down to see his body has been wiped clean and a pair of loose pants have been put on him. The sheets have been changed as well. He smiles softly. Zhongli must have cleaned up after their amazing rounds of sex last night. Instantaneously, memories of last night flood in and Childe covers his face in his hands in mortification. Did he really beg the man for his babies? Oh god, what if Childe is pregnant now? He knows he is a man but Zhongli is a god, surely it can’t be that farfetched. It isn’t that Childe didn’t want children (he really needs to evaluate his state of mind as to how okay he is with such a notion) but he is still a Harbinger with an oath to the Tsaritsa. And his family has yet to meet Zhongli or even know that their dear child has gone and mated with an Archon. Childe groans softly. He had not thought this through.
“It’s too early in the morning for you to be frowning like that.”
Childe turns his head to face the creator of all his problems. “Zhongli,” he begins, the panic in his voice alerting the dragon, “the Tsaritsa, I’m still a Harbinger. How can you court me - I mean what if I need to go back? If I’m pregnant, I can’t carry out my duties, I swore an oath! How, what - what do we -”
Zhongli hushes him gently, running his fingers through his hair. “Childe, don’t worry. I’ve spoken with the Tsaritsa, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You spoke with the Tsaritsa? When? What did she say? I-”
Zhongli interrupts his rapid-fire once again. “Childe, I will answer all your questions in time,” Zhongli assures him. He pulls Childe down back on the bed, hugging him close to his chest. “Right now, I want to spend some more time with my mate.”
Childe relaxes in his hold, snuggling deeper into Zhongli’s embrace. “Okay. I trust you,” is all he says before letting go of the matter. There are still many things that he and Zhongli need to discuss but Zhongli is right. It can wait till later.
“I love you,” Childe whispers, pecking Zhongli’s nose, giggling at the scrunch he gets. Zhongli smiles softly, and with so much love that Childe’s heart is about to burst. “I love you too.” Zhongli kisses him as they bask in the early dawn sunlight.
“I’m still not getting rid of Momo. It’s cute.”
“...Perhaps my mate still hasn’t learnt who he belongs to.”
“Oh give it a rest you jealous old man.”
Zhongli bites him lightly on the shoulder, and Childe laughs at his pettiness. He sighs, this time in contentment. How ironic that it was a stupid plush toy that got them together. Madame Ping is really going to get so many fruit baskets. But that was a thought for later.
Right now, he is happy, with Zhongli by his side. Everything else can come later.
(As Childe falls asleep in Zhongli’s arms, a slight weight settles in his stomach. But, that is a revelation for later.)