new beginnings

by Anonymous

Summary:

Childe finds himself stuck after a last attempt to cure boredom, luckily for him Liyue’s Archon seems the be the helpful type. It’s just a shame that this of all things will be his first impression on the man.

 

(Zhongli had hated to hear how unsatisfied that beautiful drunk young man had sounded with his job, but he’s always been a planner.)

—

Now with chapter two!

Notes:

edit - fixed the spelling mistake in the summary 🙃

hello again!! recently changed accounts and figured what better way to celebrate than semi rewriting my first ever anon porn so here we are

Chapter 1

Boring. Liyue was beautiful, but boring.

The worst part was that Childe had no one to blame but himself. It had been his choice to arrive early—some harebrained decision based on a mix of not wanting to spend more time around the rest of the Harbingers if he could avoid it, and a vague memory of that handsome stranger in a bar some months ago who’d told him all about what Liyue had to offer, suggestion heavy in his golden eyes.

And now he was here. One day in, and still almost a week early for his meeting with some local who would show him around the city properly, and he was so, so bored.

He’d been sighing his way through an admittedly lovely breakfast when an intense wave of restlessness kicked in, and wandering around the mountainside for almost two hours since had done nothing to help.

It was strange, he’d normally have given up by now and found the nearest market to pass the time, but every time he made to leave, he was hit with a wave of wrongness. As if he were about to stop digging an inch above treasure.

It really didn’t make any sense! The closest thing to any sort of intrigue he’d found was one of those raiders the girl at the restaurant had warned him about.

One! Like that could be enough to keep him busy! Getting rid of the thing had barely felt like a warm-up, and that was if he were being generous.

He groaned, standing up from where he was leaning against a tree, and kicking the grass petulantly.

Finally accepting that his feeling had been wrong, Childe turned, intending to head back to his hotel room and get spectacularly drunk, only to pause, head tilted.

Oh. Oh, he had been so right.

There was a hole in the side of the mountain to his right—a fairly sizable one, at that! A hole that Childe was sure hadn’t been there when he’d walked the same path earlier. A hole that glimmered with something. A subtle golden reflection that was waving in the sunlight against the surrounding stone.

Childe grinned.

 

─────༺༻─────

 

Stupid. He was so stupid.

He smacked a hand against the rock with a huff.

Now, not only was he bored, he was bored, stuck, and being taunted.

He whined, not too proud to pout, as he stared at the small pile of mora and gems no more than a foot out of his reach. Tucked against the back of the small recess carved from the rock around him, and gleaming in the tiny pin drops of light sneaking in through cracks of the mountainside.

He wriggled, shoving with his full strength, only to groan when he didn’t move an inch in either direction.

He was sure the hole had seemed bigger when he first poked his head through.

Pushing his hands back down against the stone digging into his waist, he strained against the edges of the—apparently much smaller than he’d thought—crevice in the side of the cliff face, kicking up dirt with his feet. But the rock around him remained just as unforgiving as it had been for the past ten minutes, and he let himself go limp with a petulant grumble.

Okay. Fuck.

He took a deep breath. Closing his eyes and pressing his hands solidly onto the wall below his hips again, he sharpened his focus.

Pulling forth the smallest amount of that cold abyssal energy possible, he tried to direct it exclusively into his hands where the strangely smooth rock dug into his palms. He breathed out slowly, pressing his now buzzing palms flat.

Gritting his teeth at the strain, he felt a wave of relief as the rumbling and clinking of rock starting to crumble met his ears. Lifted up onto his toes, he twisted his hips as he tried to loosen the hold of the cliff face.

Finally!

He was starting to make some progress, the hole around him widening enough to let him shuffle two or three inches closer to the mora piled ahead of him, the edges of the opening sliding from his waist to his hip bones.

Childe tapped a finger against a singular mora and grinned. Only to flinch, as a bright flash of gold light lit the dark cave around him, spreading through the cracks he'd been making.

He blinked frantically, temporarily blinded by the flash, gasping as he smacked his hands toward the rock at his hips, but it had already resealed. Tight and solid, it felt somehow even smoother under his palms than before he'd touched it at all.

"Wha-?"

“Well. I can't say this was what I was expecting to find."

He froze. The voice was smooth and controlled, but Childe could hear a thread of amusement running through their words, and cringed thinking of the sight he must be making.

"Uh. Hello? Not the best way I've ever introduced myself," Childe said, trying to laugh a little, but uncomfortably aware of how defenseless he was with a stranger now standing at his unguarded back.

Or, well, ass.

"I'm Childe!” He said, trying to inject a bit of cheer into his voice. “I'm afraid I think my eyes may have been a bit bigger than my head. Or, uh, smaller than my hips, as it were. Any chance you could pull me back towards you, stranger?"

"Hm. Yes, I suppose I should, shouldn't I," The stranger replied faintly, their voice strangely— "Would you mind answering me a question first, Childe?"

Childe's brow furrowed, and he turned his head pointlessly to squint through the dark at the tall wall of rock behind him.

"Um, sure."

The voice hummed, and Childe jerked a little, feeling his toes scuff the hill behind him as a large hand dropped to hold his hip, lifting him, just a little, in a concerningly effortless show of strength.

"Do you know what this little recess was used for, traditionally?"

"Ah," Childe replied, covering his eyes with his hands and cringing. He should have known. It was like asking for a fork for his breakfast all over again. Brushing off as many of his dusty manners as possible, he cleared his throat. "No, I'm afraid I don't. I actually only arrived this morning, and I'm not particularly well educated on the culture. I apologize if I've done something offensive, I just wanted to get a closer look."

He dropped his head, pouting. He should've known the little pile of treasure was too good to be true.

The hand tightened briefly against his hip bone, the thumb on his back beginning to slide back and forth in what was probably an absent-minded caress. Childe did his best to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass his possible savior, even as the gentle motion sent soft shivers down his spine.

"Hm. No, nothing offensive, though I imagine your original intentions may have ended up so," The voice replied, clear amusement in their tone. Their free hand dropping to hold Childe's other hip. "This is an offering shrine. People leave their mora and gifts here in the hopes of gaining Rex Lapis's good favor. Would you consider yourself a gift, Childe?"

"Ah- Um," Childe blushed. "Right. No, sorry. I really was just trying to exp-"

“I must say," The voice interrupted, their hands shifting up slightly, pulling him back a few inches from the mountainside to squeeze his waist. "I find you make for a much more intriguing offering than the ones I'm used to receiving."

Childe’s face dropped, thinking back to that flash of gold.

"The ones you're-? Are you, like, a helper? A devotee, or something?" He asked with a small amount of hope, but the embarrassed squeak in his voice made it obvious he knew they were no such thing.

The hands slid from his sides to his spine, wide and warm. Explorative across the small amount of his back they could reach from his position in the wall.

The flush on Childe's face turned slowly from an embarrassed soft pink to a deep, heated red that left him increasingly grateful for the wall separating them from each other.

The voice—Rex Lapis?—laughed, running gentle fingers across the strip of bare skin on the base of his spine made visible from his earlier struggle. "I think I'll withhold the insult to your intelligence, and not answer that."

His breath caught in his throat, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as Rex Lapis's surprisingly soft hands snuck just an inch under the bottom of his shirt.

"Much-" Childe cleared his throat again. "Much appreciated, thank you. Are you, uh, going to pull me out now?"

"Oh? But if I pull you out, then what offering will you have made, Childe?" Rex Lapis replied, pinching playfully at the bare skin of his hip and chuckling at the gasp Childe couldn't fully hide. "I would hate for it to seem like you'd tried to climb in here with an ulterior motive."

"So, how about I give you a choice?" He then continued, voice low enough that Childe’s toes curled tight in his shoes. "Either, I free you immediately, and you can return with a true offering for as many days as it takes for me to be impressed, or-" He paused.

"Or?" Childe drawled, when the silence dragged on long enough it seemed he had no intention of finishing. "What's option two?"

The hands on his hips tightened, the grip turning stone-like in its own right, and Childe felt a soft brush of hair against his spine, followed closely by a hot puff of breath. Rex Lapis' voice traveled up his body and through the very rock surrounding him.

"Option two is that you let me take the offering you have already so kindly given." He said, and any lingering question Childe could have had about his meaning was wiped away entirely by the unmistakable slide of lips against his back, a nose bunching his shirt even further out of the way for the sake of a surprisingly chaste kiss pressed against the bare skin of his spine.

Childe bit his lip.

On one hand, it was a terrible idea to allow any stranger to treat him like some kind of prize, let alone an Archon. But, well, on the other hand, he's shown himself more than once now to have no clue about the local customs, so who knows how long it could take before he could find and bring an offering seen as good enough for Rex Lapis himself.

(And, look, some grace, please. Childe is a warm blooded young man like any other. He's seen the statues, okay, and if they're anything even approaching realistic… Really could he be blamed for being curious?)

Plus, if the guy did anything that he really didn't like then, Archon or not, Childe had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he'd never been afraid to show a guy his place. Sure, this guy is Rex Lapis, but Childe could totally take him if he needed to.

Right?

Oh, Childe grinned to himself, slightly more manic than was probably healthy, he was absolutely going to take him. One way or another.

"Option two," He said decisively, pushing up onto his toes a little to force that soft mouth against him more firmly.

If he'd thought the grip on his hips was strong before, it was nothing compared to the truly inhuman squeeze he got then.

"A good choice, Childe," Rex Lapis replied and, wasting no time, slid his hands to cover Childe's ass, groping and spreading him through the fabric of his pants, pushing his thumbs teasingly between to press the fabric roughly against his hole.

"Oh!"

"What a sight you made as I arrived to check in on you. Bent over like a whore, desperate for your body to be a worthy enough offering for my favor," Rex Lapis chuckled. "Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken to you at all- just stripped you and pushed straight inside. Used you. As was my right as soon as you climbed into my shrine."

"M'not a whore!" Childe said, indignant, but it didn't exactly sound believable paired with the small involuntary noises he kept making as every inch of his lower half was groped and explored.

Rex Lapis hummed, clearly amused. He pressed a wet, lingering kiss, low on his tail bone. "Yes, I suppose that is true. I will not be paying for the opportunity, after all. Since you gave yourself to me for free." Rucking up Childe's shirt as far as he could, he continued, "Perhaps slut would be more accurate in this case."

The hands on him shifted again, but instead of reaching for his waistband as Childe expected, they dug directly into the seam of his pants, ripping them and the underwear below wide open down the middle, leaving Childe gasping in shock and a regretful amount of arousal at the sudden air against his skin.

"Hey!" He snapped, slightly breathier than intended from the casual show of strength. "I have to walk ba- Ah, fuck!"

That was a tongue.

Wet, hot, and forceful, it slid across his hole without even a shred of hesitation, pushing impatiently against his rim until the muscle gave with the smallest twinge of pain, and allowed it to slide in.

And in.

And in, and in. Deeper and deeper, until Childe was almost squealing from the reminder that Rex Lapis was far from human.

He bit down harshly on his fist, desperately trying to keep in as many of the noises rising in his throat as he could.

Apparently unhappy with the now muffled sounds, the thick muscle of the tongue shifted inside him, curling until on every wet slide it rubbed relentlessly against his prostate. Pushing. Twisting and writhing, over and over again, and sending Childe’s eyes so far back into his skull he wasn't sure he'd ever find them.

He’d always been sensitive, he knew that, it was why he always stuck to the other side of things. Much too embarrassed to let anyone else hear the shaky gasps that even the tentative press of his own fingers could draw out.

His own explorative fingers and the flexible bend of the Archons tongue felt incomparable. He’d never experienced anything like it. It was all consuming, lighting a fire in his stomach that burned hot enough to kill.

He unclamped his teeth from the meat of his palm, squeezing his eyes shut at the unstoppable moan that fell from his dropped jaw.

"Too much! It's- Fuck!" He cried, kicking back blindly with one leg only to have it grabbed around the ankle in a tight grasp and kept lifted, pinned back against his own hip.

He yelped, twisting his foot in the grip of Rex Lapis's hand, realizing quickly that it had about as much give as the rock surrounding his waist. The unwavering pressure of it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He felt almost weak. No, he was weak.

Childe would be lying if he said he was a stranger to the occasional use of restraints in the bedroom–a playfully pinned wrist, a silk scarf put to better use–but he'd never been touched this way by someone actually stronger than him before. Someone who could truly lock him in place and give him something to struggle against.

He could feel it now, though. The difference. No matter how hard he kicked or struggled, this man–this Archon–could probably hold him down however he wanted him without any true effort. There was no real escape.

It was exhilarating.

"Please! Ah! Rex La-!" Childe moaned, head falling to hang limp towards the ground as he jerked and whimpered. The realization of his true powerlessness paired with the still unending stimulation against his prostate sending him hurtling towards orgasm so fast it was embarrassing. "I'm gonna- I can't-"

A thumb rubbed around his rim, teasing the tight skin around the tongue still deep inside, before digging in harshly.

A small, sharp burn rolled over him as it hooked into his hole to stretch him even further, and Childe couldn't hold back, his spine curving violently as he came harder and quicker than he ever had in his life.

His limbs shaky and weak, he dropped all of his weight, allowing himself to be held up by the cliff face and Rex Lapis's grip alone.

He whined behind his clenched teeth, that inhuman tongue sliding out of him a maddening amount slower than necessary, teasing at every sensitive spot it had found on the way.

"Good," Rex Lapis said soothingly, licking a slow, wet line along where his ripped pants were digging into his upper thigh. He let Childe's foot drop back to the ground. "I knew you’d be perfect. Stay nice and relaxed for me."

Childe felt the push of his other thumb join alongside the one still hooked deep, as he tugged, using them both to pull Childe's hole as wide as the muscle would give.

"Hah," Childe gasped, his neck tingling in mortification as he was held there, open for the Archon to look at as he wished.

"So tight, hm? Perhaps slut isn't all that accurate either," He said, his thumbs slipping out only to be immediately replaced by two shockingly slick fingers curved deep, rubbing with a concerning accuracy against his still-sensitive prostate.

"Hey! I can't-!"

"Of course you can," Rex Lapis interrupted, slipping a third finger inside without hesitation and twisting, locking Childe's twitching hips in place with a hand on his lower back as he tried to jerk away from the too soon burn of the added stretch.

"Nuh- Can't, can't! Too fast-" Childe whined, slapping a palm back against the wall.

"Shh," He soothed, thrusting all three of his fingers deep. Dragging roughly against his prostate every time they pulled out. "You can. Just relax for me."

Childe felt the thread of real pleasure start to build again scarily quick. Too soon to be completely painless, it rang through him with a fine sting of oversensitivity, reducing him to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess as he mindlessly tried to roll his hips into and then away from Rex Lapis's hands in turn.

His cock, never having had the chance to fully go soft, started to kick against his stomach, desperate for any kind of friction having already gone once without.

"Please- Fuck!" Childe yelled, jaw dropping in a continuous, mortifying whine as the hand that had been on his hip dropped to curl around him, a barely there pressure. He teased up and down his length with just enough force to push him right back over the edge, coming even faster the second time than he had the first, his hips jolting and twitching.

"There we go. Very good," Rex Lapis said, pulling out his fingers and petting his flank with almost condescending softness. "That's it, Childe. Only one more now. Three is always a good number don’t you think?"

Childe panted in reply, struggling desperately against the haze clouding his mind to make sense of what he’d said only for his eyes to widen in shock. There was no way.

"One more?" Childe asked, incredulousness clear even through his desperate breathing.

"That's right," He replied, his hands leaving Childe's body for a moment. "Just one more. You can give me one more, can’t you Childe?"

One hand quickly returned to his hip, the give of it still eerily indistinguishable from the edge of the cliff against his waist, as Childe felt Rex Lapis rub the head of his cock against his still twitching hole. Small, teasing movements as he dipped forward slightly only to pull back. Over and over, just barely pushing the already intimidatingly large tip inside until Childe felt ready to beg. Canting his hips back desperately despite the still lingering tremors of overstimulation making his abs cramp and spasm.

"So desperate for it," He said, that strange rumbling purr underneath his words again. "Weren't you just saying it was too much? Perhaps you don't know what you need, dear Childe."

"That's okay," He continued, ignoring Childe's disappointed whine as he pulled back again. "I'll do what's best for you."

A sharp, deep thrust, and Childe wailed. Lifting up onto his toes, he struggled. A halfhearted attempt to wriggle away from the pressure against every inch of him.

Filled to the brim and stretched wider than he'd ever been, he was all too aware of himself letting out weak yelps and gasps at every shallow roll of Rex Lapis's hips.

"Perfect," Rex Lapis hissed–actually hissed! Like a cat!–and the last of Childe's unscrambled braincells couldn't help but flare with pride at the growing hints of strain in his voice. "Only a small bit more. You're going to take it all, aren't you?"

"That isn't all of it?" Childe asked, faint.

Whether Rex Lapis didn't hear the question or just chose to ignore it, Childe didn't know. In fact, the only thing Childe did know was that, no matter how tight he pressed his hands against his mouth, he couldn't stop the stream of pathetic sounding whines and whimpers from escaping him- completely incapable of any real words, as the already intimidatingly large cock pressed even deeper. The Archon once again pushing past the limits of anything human until Childe felt he was being held up by his cock alone.

He dropped a hand to press shakily at the small part of his waist he could reach from his side of the wall, sure that if he could concentrate even slightly he'd be able to feel Rex Lapis's cock bulging against his skin.

"There we go. Don't you feel better now you're all full?"

“Hah-” Childe replied, intelligently.

“What a lovely little thing you are,” He said, “So desperate for it.”

“I’m not- Ah-! M'not desperate,” Childe gasped, pulling at his own hair in an attempt to pull back some of his quickly slipping focus.

“No?” Rex Lapis replied, impressively steady. “Would you prefer me to leave you be, then?”

Childe felt a long, unending whine leave him as Rex Lapis slowly began to pull out, his body clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, as he was carefully made to feel the loss of the cock bullying against his insides.

“Nn-” Childe gasped, feeling strange and empty the minute he was left, yet again, with only the head tapping against his still-twitching hole. “No! I want it, I want it, please- Ah!”

Rex Lapis squeezed tightly at the meat of his thigh, humming in languid amusement, before returning to rubbing the head of his cock in teasing circles against his rim. “You see, that’s what I thought. But perhaps, if you aren’t at all desperate, then we should get you freed, and continue this somewhere more appropriate, hm? I would hate to leave you uncomfortable for no reason, since you’re so capable of waiting for it.”

“No! Wa- Want it now– I want it now,” Childe said, frantically trying to push up and back on his toes, but held too tight in Rex Lapis’s grip to even meaningfully twitch.

“How desperately do you want it, Childe?”

“Desperately! I’m s- I’m so desperate, I promise!” Childe begged, horrified to realize that being made to beg—being made to beg by someone who really would be capable of forcing him if they wanted to—had him so hard he was dripping for the third time that day.

“Oh, good boy,” Rex Lapis breathed out, slowly pushing back inside until his hips pressed tight against Childe’s, thankfully ignoring the squeaked out weak noises it pulled from him. “What a sweet thing you can be when you try.”

“Sweet?” Childe asked, his incredulity obvious even as he panted through the stretch, no more used to that brutally inhuman size the second time.

“The sweetest,” He said, starting to thrust, his rhythm slow and smooth. Almost hypnotic with the way it never allowed Childe to properly catch his breath. Never pulling out quite far enough to stop the constant pressure on his prostate that had him twitching and clenching randomly.

Painfully overstimulated, but still somehow needing more.

“You have no idea how delicious of an offering you make.”

Without warning the thrusts picked up speed, turning brutal and deep so quickly it left Childe choking on his own spit as he dropped his hands to the ground, desperately trying to blink the tears out of his eyes as a loud ringing started in his ears.

Too much. It was too much. Too good.

He’d never felt anything like it in his life. His limbs felt both numb and more sensitive than they’d ever been, black spots clouded his vision. He was drooling. He knew he must be drooling, what with his mouth open and pouring out unending moans and attempted pleas, but he couldn’t feel it. Pitiful sounds fell constantly from him and he couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed. Too overwhelmed. His mind was emptied of thought more and more by the minute, filled instead by nothing but a golden pleasure so strong it burned. It was unnatural, the feeling. It wasn’t right, it was- something was happening.

“What- hah! Re-” He slurred, eyes rolling in his skull.

“That’s it,” Rex Lapis said, something approaching awe hiding behind his now heavier breaths. “Let go. Let it all go Childe, let it happen. I knew- I knew you’d take to me so perfectly. She never deserved you, I’m going to take such good care of you, my- my sweet devotee. Mine.”

Childe seized violently as he came for the third time, the waves of pleasure never-ending, the world nothing but shades of gold and red, spinning and arching through his vision as Rex Lapis continued to pound into him harder, and harder. Until the thrusts faltered, smacking deep one final time, stuffing Childe with the burning heat of his cum as he twitched. A single deep groan echoing through the rock as his hips pumped just a few more times, rolling in short, hypnotic waves.

The last thing Childe was aware of as he slumped was another bright flash of gold, blinding even behind his closed eyes, completely limp, even as he was finally freed from the shrine. Unaware of the gentle hands and enamored gaze locked on the golden markings that were slowly stretching low across his stomach and up towards his abs.

 

─────༺༻─────

 

(In Snezhnaya, hitting the ground with a deafening crash, a priceless teacup—A supposed gift of goodwill and peace that’s real meaning just became clear to an Archon with a clenched jaw and wide eyes.)

Chapter 2: fresh starts

Notes:

in case you were wondering- no, i have not managed to move on from the idea of a full canon au in this world

quick reminder: i don't think any new tags are necessary here but the dark zhongli/dubious consent tag is prominent. again there is no blatant lack of consent but childe is very much being manipulated/kept in the dark

Waking up was a unique kind of painful, his body somehow loose-limbed and stiff in equal measure, and for a moment Childe thought he must’ve managed to find an extremely worthy opponent to entertain himself with last night.

Unfortunately, however, opening his eyes to the silk and softness of an unfamiliar bedroom, he found himself remembering exactly how he’d got there in every regretful detail.

His face flamed red, dark enough he was sure he must've matched the pillow he buried it in quite nicely.

He tried to steel himself against the embarrassment, but it was no use and, groaning at the pull in his stiff muscles, he propped himself up to lean against the headboard, dropping his burning face into his hands.

What was he thinking? 'Oh, yes, go ahead Mr. Archon, sir. I'm sure I can handle it! I definitely wont pass out and need to be carried off to your home or anything!'

Immersed in his unending wallowing, his head jerked up with a yelp at the sound of a throat clearing.

"Good morning, Childe," Rex lapis said, leaning against the doorway with a surprisingly kind smile. "Well, good afternoon, really."

Childe swallowed, a fresh wave of embarrassment flooding him at the realization this was the first time he was actually seeing the guy’s face after everything they’d done. He tried to take him in as quickly as possible, sliding a subtle eye down the length of him.

The Archon was—well he was definitely an Archon. His hair was only half pinned away from his face, long and glowing golden at its tips. His body, covered almost neck to ankle in a truly decadent looking brown silk robe, was shockingly lithe, despite the strength Childe knew first hand he had hiding underneath. His eyes dipped to his hands—fine-boned and pink-knuckled, curled around a large mug—and, remembering exactly how strong that grip was, felt his face flush anew.

Rex Lapis’ brow started to pinch in the silence and Childe scrambled to reply.

“Good afternoon,” He rasped, his voice barely making it past his throat.

Rex Lapis’ brow pinched harder, and he crossed the room quickly, sitting on the edge of the mattress and reaching for one of Childe’s hands, pressing the warm mug into it.

“Tea,” He explained when Childe just looked befuddled, smiling serenely. “I’d expected you might be a little hoarse when you woke up.”

Childe’s skin prickled with mortification, and he rushed to start drinking as an excuse to cover his face, holding back a grimace at the medicinal taste that was only somewhat covered by the tea’s sweet floral scent.

“It’s healing. A personal blend,” Rex Lapis explained, resting a hand on Childe’s thigh over the covers, not seeming to notice the way it made him jump. “Rest assured, I checked that it would be appropriate for someone of your make too. I meant to wake you with it a while ago, but I admit I got quite caught up in everything. It’s not every day someone of my, well, advanced age finds a new avenue of research in that regard, and I’ve never had any reason to research the effect of medicinal herbs on Abyss affected creatures before. Fascinating, truly.”

Freezing, Childe looked at Rex Lapis over the rim of the mug, his eyes wide. His muscles tensed, preparing for a fight he already knew he’d never win, even without the current state of his body.

“Rex Lapis,” He said stiffly, holding back his discomfort. “I meant no har-”

The archon waved his free hand dismissively, the other tightening briefly on his thigh. “Please, Childe, call me Zhongli. And you have nothing to worry about, truly. If I thought you meant any harm you never would’ve made it passed the docks.”

It wasn’t quite as comforting as he clearly meant it to be. There was something a little dark and knowing hidden in his words—an assuredness—and Childe’s shoulders drew back, finally taking in the room with a sharper gaze.

It was beautiful, undeniably, and clearly furnished by someone with an eye for indulgence, with everything colored in various earth tones. Warm. The bed alone, a mess of brown silken sheets and red pillows, sheer golden drapery hanging around the four posters of its frame, clearly a piece of custom built artistry.

The rest of the room was just as richly decorated, too. On the larger side, and packed from corner to corner with tall bookshelves and small side tables, an open door that seemed to lead to a bathroom from what Childe could see. Two arm chairs, and a larger chaise-longue took up the majority of the floor space, circling a low coffee table.

Every shelf overfilled, and every chair overstuffed. The picture of opulence.

It made it all the more jarring to realize there wasn’t a single window.

“Am I in some kind of trouble, Zhongli?” Childe asked slowly, eyes flickering between the hand on his thigh and the larger door in the corner—heavy looking wood, closed behind Zhongli after he’d let himself in.

“No, Childe,” Zhongli said, smiling. “Why would you be? I would never punish you for the Tsaritsa’s overconfidence.”

Childe took a breath, buying himself a moment to process by swallowing the last of the tea, and hoping the pinched look on his face would be attributed to a few of the leaves making into the mouthful.

“You’re aware of her plan, then?” He asked after a tense silence, deciding lying wouldn’t be the best idea in these close quarters.

Zhongli huffed a laugh. “Of course. I always have been, when it comes to me. But really is there anyone left unaware? Her inability to keep to herself about these things has been showing her age, to say the least.”

Defensiveness crawled its way up Childe’s throat and he quickly bit back a retort.

Not quick enough, though, if the amused look on Zhongli’s face was anything to go by.

“It’s quite all right, Childe. None of us hold it against her. We were all young once, too; cutting our teeth on the largest stone we could find,” He said placidly. Amused. As if the Tsaritsa’s plan was nothing more than childhood make-believe. “You have to find a rock too sharp at some point. This will be a good lesson for her.”

Childe’s annoyance fizzled into a muted shock.

“You’re underestimating her,” He insisted, holding his tongue on something more caustic.

“No, Childe, I’m really not,” Zhongli said. Indulgent, almost patronizing in his disregard. He smiled, lifting his hand from Childe’s thigh to brush his knuckles briefly across his jaw. “Your fealty, however, is just as beautiful a sight as I remembered. I look forward to experiencing myself.”

Childe’s skin prickled in unrest. He raised his legs, tucking his knees to his chest under the thin sheets as a weak barrier between them. Concern knotted further in his stomach as he realized that, while his shirt was still his own, his pants had been switched out for something loose and silky, sliding against the bedsheets like water.

“What do you mean?” Childe said, eyes flicking once again to the door. “My fealty is to her Lady Tsaritsa, now and always.”

“You’ve served your lady well, of course,” Zhongli nodded, grabbing the empty mug and standing. “But sworn word has nothing on giving yourself up in your entirety as an offering—even an Archon as misinformed as she is wouldn’t be foolish enough to try and deny that.”

Childe’s mouth moved silently in disbelief.

“I know this will take some getting used to, but to be blunt, Childe,” He continued, his eyes a physical weight as they scanned him, dark and flecked in gold. “My claim on you outweighs hers. A mountain to a thimble.”

The anger was immediate and welcome, the first familiar thing since he’d woken up, and he stumbled to his feet on the opposite side of the bed, ignoring the shake in his legs. His lip pulled back in distaste.

“What the fuck are you talking about,” He snapped, all caution abandoned. “I’m a Harbinger, I’ll die a Harbinger.”

Zhongli hummed, seeming completely unbothered by his outburst. He reached down languidly to flick the bedsheets into order, sighing.

“I can see you’ll need some time to acclimate,” He said sympathetically. “It’s no issue, of course. I expected as much. I’ll leave you be. Before I go, though, did you have any requests for dinner? I’m not much of a cook, so I’ll be picking something up, if you have a craving.”

Childe sputtered. “I’m- Don’t just- I’m not staying here!”

Zhongli stopped half way to the door, turning back to him, still infuriatingly unbothered. “Of course you are, Childe. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous! You don’t own me just because we fucked!” Childe snapped, his pain momentarily forgotten as he crossed the room to poke his finger accusingly into Zhongli’s unflinching chest. “That’s not how this works! My loyalty is to the Tsaritsa!”

Zhongli smiled at him, grabbing his hand. His grip was strong—strong enough that Childe found himself unable to escape it; thrashing, and even leaning his entire body weight away from him, did nothing. Zhongli didn’t break a sweat. Instead, effortlessly, he pulled Childe’s hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Childe’s struggle stopped in shock, his face reddening.

“See? All that devotion,” Zhongli said reverently, turning Childe’s hand to kiss his palm. “Beautiful. I can’t wait to see how it flourishes when you aren’t struggling for the attention you deserve.”

“What are you talking about,” Childe hissed, his eyes wide, catching briefly on the red skin of Zhongli’s mouth.

“You were so underutilised,” Zhongli said, placing the mug on one of the side tables to grab hold of Childe’s other hand, quick enough that Childe barely noticed it happen. “Wasted. Stuffed into a group of other fighters. None of them even half as devout as you are, not that she can see that.”

Zhongli pressed their joined hands against his own stomach, the skin of his palms calloused and warm, sending a small shiver down Childe’s spine, remembering those hands pressed elsewhere.

“You’ll never have to fight for my attention, Childe,” He continued, stepping closer, his voice almost hypnotising in its softness. “Even now, when nothing but my claim keeps you here, trust me, my eyes are only on you.”

Childe swallowed.

“I don’t want your attention,” He said weakly, his eyes caught on Zhongli’s thumb as it stroked back and forth over the back of his hand.

“You don’t want your Archon’s attention to be yours alone?” Zhongli asked, stepping even closer to press their foreheads together, pulling a shaky breath from Childe’s chest. His voice dropped to nothing more than a murmur. “You don’t want the power I can give you? The battles I can provide you with? The safety I can offer your family?”

Eyes wide, Childe tried to speak. To be firm. He searched his chest for that burning loyalty, the need to fight for the Tsaritsa, but it was as though it’d been ripped out of him, and all he found was the spark of something else—of desire—in his stomach. It was hard to ignore, and instead of the blistering words he’d planned, he let out nothing more than a whisper.

“No.”

“No? You don’t sound too sure, my Childe,” Zhongli hummed, one of his hands leaving the tangle between their chests to cup the back of Childe’s head, petting against the short hairs of his nape like he was calming a wild animal. “That’s okay. I can be sure enough for us both.”

“You’re insane,” Childe says, betrayed by the breathiness of his own voice. “You can’t force someone to worship you. I’m- I’m loyal to the Tsaritsa.”

“Are you?” Zhongli asked, moving both of his hands to cup Childe’s neck, his thumbs stroking his cheeks. “Tell me, Childe, now that the physical bond is severed—do you still feel that loyalty as you did before?”

“You’re doing something to me, that’s why I can’t-“ Childe countered, but a hairline fracture was forming in his defences. No matter how hard he focused, the ice cold need was gone. There was no pull of worship, no cold hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve done something.” Childe insisted again, reaching up to pull Zhongli’s hands away, only to falter at the last moment, gripping loosely at his forearms instead.

“Nothing other than breaking her claim on you,” Zhongli said. “Is it not suspicious to you? Such a drastic change in your feelings from nothing more than a contract ending.”

“I’m not stupid! You’ve obviously caused it somehow,” Childe snapped, unsuccessfully trying to push Zhongli away from him.

”If I were capable of that, would I not just force you to feel indebted to me instead?” Zhongli asked, tilting Childe’s head back until they were making eye contact. “Standing here now, do you feel any loyalty to me? Does it tug at you as it did with her?”

Childe looked between Zhongli’s eyes, his mind churning. He wasn’t lying about that at least, there was definitely no loyalty in Childe’s mind when he looked at him. Something else infinitely more mortifying, perhaps, but no loyalty.

Childe’s short breaths filled the small amount of space between them, their noses brushing with every shiver down his spine.

“No,” Childe admitted, quiet.

“I didn’t think so,” Zhongli said, smiling.

He stepped away, the sudden rush of cold air making Childe stumble, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the aborted movement he’d made to cling at Zhongli’s robe like a child.

“I apologize, I really didn’t mean to drop so much on you in one go, and you must still be tired,” He said, then pointed to a small ornate bell on the bedside table. “I’ll be back with dinner in a while. Ring for me if you need anything.”

He turned to the door and Childe stared after him, frozen in overwhelmed confusion.

It was only after he’d left that Childe felt himself unstick from his spot at the end of the bed. He blinked incredulously at the closed door, raising a hand to his warm cheek and frowning.

He stumbled over to the door as soon as he got his bearings, unsurprised to feel it firmly locked, no matter how hard he shook the handle.

Spinning in a slow circle in the then too-quiet room, the ridiculousness of his situation really started to sink in.

Because it couldn’t be true, right? Zhong- Rex Lapis had to have done something to him. There was no way the thawed spot in his chest where his tie to the Tsaritsa had once sat was real. He’d done something—bound his connection in some way, or- or something, anything.

Taking a shaky breath, he knelt at the foot of the bed, resting his hands on his knees and closing his eyes.

Bracing himself for the icy chill, he prayed, focusing all his energy on sending out a message to his Archon.

Nothing.

His jaw tightened and he tried again, leaning forward to press his forehead to the floor, his palms by his head. He waited.

Nothing.

No answer. No chill of winter down his spine, no fluttering rightness in his chest at the reminder of his commitment. Just sore knees and the warmth of Liyue in the air.

He sat back on his heels with wide eyes, listing sideways against the bed post until, feeling somewhat dizzy, he stood. The muscles in his thighs screamed for the three steps it took him to drop onto the bed on his back. His unblinking gaze jittered, unfocused, across the ceiling in mindless patterns.

Squeezing his eyes shut with a shaky inhale, he turned onto his stomach, never more grateful to be tired than he was in that moment.

 

─────༺༻─────

 

The disorientation was even stronger than the last time when he woke up again, his face buried in one of the many pillows. The lack of windows paired with the early-morning light of the lamps in the room had left his internal clock unmoored, and he blinked groggily.

He couldn’t have been asleep long, so it was nighttime, he assumed. Late, too, if Zhongli had been telling the truth about it being the afternoon earlier. It was impossible to say for sure.

It took a moment for him to realize what had even woken him, and he jerked upright when it finally clicked, smacking at the hand that had been in his hair moments before.

“Don’t do that,” He hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

Zhongli raised both hands, appeasing, though the amusement on his face cancelled out any of it’s sincerity. “Apologies, I wasn’t sure the best way to wake you, but your food will go cold if you leave it much longer.”

Childe just huffed, deciding he’d earned a little petulance, given the circumstances. He sat against the headboard and crossed his legs with frown.

“Well maybe I’m not hungry.” He said, borderline nonsensical what with how long it must have been since he’d last eaten anything.

“Is that so,” Zhongli said mildly. “Well I’m sure you wont mind keeping me company while I eat, then.”

He reached down, pulling a large wooden serving tray from under the bed and placed it between them on the mattress. It was just as elaborately made as everything else in the room, with fine detailing carved into its raised edges, and the sight of it was strangely sobering. A mundane looking piece of evidence of how much thought had gone into not needing to leave this room.

“You know,” Zhongli said, leading. Unknowingly knocking him out of his spiralling thoughts. “It feels like an understatement to say you must have questions. Perhaps I could answer them.”

“Will you or wont you,” Childe snarked, ignoring the rumble in his stomach as Zhongli untied another of the large bags of food, pulling out more to-go boxes.

“How about a deal?” Zhongli smiled. “For every dish you eat, I’ll answer one question. Anything you’d like to know.”

Childe chewed on his lip for a moment, looking for any sign that he was lying.

“You swear it?” He asked in the end, the placid warmth on Zhongli’s face unflinching under scrutiny.

“If that’s what it will take,” Zhongli nodded. “Though I promise you, I’m a man of my word.”

“Swear it.”

“As you wish,” Zhongli said, amused. He raised a hand to his heart with exaggerated chivalry. “I, Rex Lapis, swear it on my name and land, that I will answer a question of your choosing for every dish you eat in its entirety during this meal.”

“Very specific,” Childe snorted, pettily holding back a small laugh. He gestured at the food. “Fine. What is this?”

“A serving each of bamboo shoot soup, a few jade parcels,” Zhongli said, gesturing to the three largest boxes before sliding a smaller one nearer to Childe on the tray. “And some plain tofu, in case your stomach was a little upset from all the commotion.”

“You mean you kidnapping me and locking me in a room with no windows?” Childe asked pointedly, hoping the bluntness might be enough to finally get a reaction out of him. “That commotion?”

Zhongli’s eyes narrowed for just flash, but his face smoothed out again almost immediately, the same patient look returning.

“Actually, I was more so referring to how I fucked you until you fell unconscious in my arms,” He said placidly. “But if the temporary accommodations are what have you unsettled, then I’m sure the tofu should still serve its purpose.”

Childe’s mouth moved silently in shock, his face flaring with a raging red blush.

Zhongli sighed fondly, reaching out to brushing the backs of his knuckles across Childe’s hot cheek.

“Sweet thing. Look at you,” He murmured, pulling back before Childe could slap his hand away. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? Sitting in our home with that sweet blush, as if you weren’t begging and screaming for a stranger only this morning. As if your insides aren’t still painted with me.”

Childe sputtered, a hand mindlessly dropping to his stomach.

Shaking his wandering thoughts loose, he frowned, smacking his palm onto the wooden tray, uncaring of how it caused the food boxes to tip.

“This is not our home,” He insisted, feeling as though he was starting to go a little crazy with how casual Zhongli was being about everything. “I have a home, and it’s in Snezhnaya.”

“If keeping that house will make you happy, then I won’t stop you,” Zhongli shrugged.

“And what if I said what would make me happy is leaving here and never returning?” Childe asked, thrown by the sincerity in Zhongli’s eyes.

“Then I would say you were being short sighted, and that I will endeavour to show you all that you have gained by binding yourself to me.” Zhongli said, the intensity returning to his eyes. “The heights I will take you to. The power you will earn.”

“Rex-” Chile started, swallowing past his suddenly dry throat, his eyes wide.

“Zhongli,” Zhongli corrected, righting the food on the tray and sliding it off of the bed, placing it on the floor.

Kneeling up, he crawled closer, Childe backing away until his shoulders were pressed against the headboard, Zhongli’s hands pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips.

Childe pressed a hand against his chest, shivering when it did nothing to stop Zhongli from getting even closer, their noses brushing.

“Don’t you want it, Childe? All the power I could give you. All the love and attention, with not a single person to take it from you,” He whispered, a repeat of his promises from earlier, his eyes nothing but glowing pools of gold.

“I did my research before reaching a decision on you, Childe. I know highly you value strength,” He continued, his nose sliding across Childe’s cheek until his lips were brushing his ear. “Can you honestly tell me it doesn’t put heat in your chest to know I am more powerful than your old Archon could even conceptualize—that the things to bring her kingdom to its knees would be solved with nothing but a snap of my fingers?

“Zhongli-” Childe gasped, shivers dancing across his scalp.

“I could raise mountains to build your home a foundation,” He said intently, his teeth grazing the cartilage of his ear. “And all I want in return is for you to stand at my side. My warrior. My partner.”

Childe’s breath caught hard in his chest, his cock twitching against his thigh. His hand on Zhongli’s chest slid down a few inches, fingers brushing the hot skin of his chest through the now gaping neckline of his robe.

“Why me?” He asked quietly, wetting his dry lips. “We only met this morning. You didn’t even know what I looked like until after we- until after.”

“Do you truly not remember?” Zhongli asked, pulling back just enough to smile, fond and amused. “I wouldn’t expect you to, I suppose. You were incredibly drunk at the time.”

Childe blinked rapidly, scanning back in his memory. There weren’t many times Zhongli could be talking about; Childe was no stranger to a drink or two, but being drunk? There were really only a handful of occasions that had happened, even fewer in a public place.

Last year, he realized. After the absolute shitshow that had been his most recent “solo” mission.

It had been an unmitigated disaster.

It should have been simple. Nothing more than the assassination of a respected politician in Snezhnaya whose criticisms of the Tsaritsa had started to gain the edge of an uprising that needed to be snuffed out. Not exactly a morally upright mission, as was becoming more common in the lead up to the local people’s elections, but simple nonetheless.

The problem, however, was that once Childe had finally planned his approach and gone to make his move, he’d been blindsided by Pantalone, an all out fight breaking out between the two of them that had only ended when Il Capitano had arrived, taking out the target himself.

It turned out they had all been given the same assignment. Healthy competition, her majesty had called it at the debrief, a sting spreading beneath Childe’s ribs at the small proud smile she had flashed towards Il Capitano.

She had rewarded him with his choice of missions for the next month, that small smile never leaving her face.

She had praised Pantalone’s cunning, to have tailed someone who’d already tracked the target down.

She had looked at him, still somewhat smiling, and told him the tracking was clean work, before dismissing them to return to her all day private meeting.

He’d had a strange moment that evening, sitting at a bar as far from the palace as he could find, his first drink of the night in hand, where he’d felt as though it had been the final straw. He hadn’t known of what, exactly, but the final straw nonetheless, and he had spent the rest of the night sitting in a dark corner and plying himself with spirits until he could push the feeling down and away. Left with nothing but vague memories in the morning of a strong body helping him stumble home. The scent of amber musk nestled deep into his jacket collar, and a faint memory of an almost-invite to Liyue.

“You were there. Why were you- Oh,” Childe said quietly. “You were the foreign diplomat. The one she- her majesty had been meeting with.”

“Smart boy,” Zhongli praised, raising a hand to rest on the side of his neck. “That very night we had finally come to an agreement about my Gnosis.”

A bitterness spilled onto Childe’s tongue.

“An agreement about your Gnosis?” He asked faintly, eyes unfocused.

“Indeed,” Zhongli said. “It was an agreement made without all the information I would’ve liked to have, unfortunately. That contract has been voided now, of course. Luckily, I’m not fool enough to forgo leaving myself some wiggle room in these things.”

“An agreement. About your Gnosis,” Childe said again, the bitterness beginning to pour its way down his throat.

“Yes,” Zhongli said, concern pinching his brow. “Is something wrong, Childe?”

“I wasn’t aware of any agreement,” Childe whispered, his eyes locked on the far wall as all that bitterness calcified into a cold, cold anger. “I was sent to Liyue to find you and steal your Gnosis.”

“Yes, I know,” Zhongli said, his head tilting slightly.

“No, you don’t,” Childe said, eyes flinty. “I was sent here to steal your Gnosis with nothing but your name and some historical accounts to go on. She told me she was sorry that she didn’t have more to give. She told me she didn’t know what you looked like, and that I would need to be subtle—that you were a formidable opponent and the element of surprise was my best bet.”

“Oh, Childe,” Zhongli said, sympathetically. He brought both hands to cup his face, his thumbs stroking under Childe’s eyes with an aching softness. “That isn’t true at all. The contract for my Gnosis was to be nothing more than a professional hand off a month from now with a Harbinger of her choice.”

Childe smacked his hands away, too worked up to be surprised when Zhongli moved away from him freely.

He stood, pacing the length of the bed while Zhongli watched, the concern on his face not quite matching the relaxed drape of his body in a way that set Childe’s teeth on edge.

Childe looked away, saying nothing.

The anger only burnt stronger at the realisation that he hadn’t been chosen, not really. Not ever, when it came to her. She was always happy to send him into battle, to have his blood tested, and his Abyssal form studied. But she couldn’t trust him with a single solo mission? Not a single one? There was always a catch. Always another Harbinger at his heels to take his kills, and all the credit too.

He looked back over at Zhongli where he lounged on the bed, the hurt and anger feeding into itself endlessly.

“Is my connection to her really gone?” He asked in the end, not even sure of what answer he wanted. “Don’t- Don’t lie to me. It’s not like I could run, anyway.”

“Your tie to her has been severed, yes,” Zhongli replied, sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching out for Childe’s hands, smiling when Childe stiffly let him. “And I never intended to keep you like some kind of prisoner, Childe. I just didn’t want you to do something regrettable when you woke up.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Childe mutters, but it’s lacking the acidity he’d intended. He pulled his hands away, throwing himself back onto the bed with a huff.

“I assure you, the tie is severe-“

“Not that part,” Childe said, waving a hand dismissively, too wrung out to care about any disrespect. “I believe you. Whatever.”

Zhongli turned, looking every inch the serpentine dragon of legends as he prowled over Childe, stopping when his hands were pushed into the plush mattress, either side of his head.

“You’re not a prisoner here,” He insisted, his voice low as he leant down to brush a tender kiss to his temple, blanketing Childe in the warmth of his body for just a moment. “I just want to give you the chance to make an informed decision. And to do it without that grizzly bond latched onto you.”

Childe swallowed.

Despite all the signs pointing to yes, he wasn’t completely stupid. Things still weren’t adding up. But had they ever?

Archons were old, even the youngest of them, and they had been unimaginably powerful for almost that entire time. Was it really out of the question that their idea of what was and wasn’t okay would be different than his?

When had the Tsaritsa ever given him more than the bare minimum of information? She’d never even told him there’d been a physical bond between her and the Harbingers. It wasn’t something he’d agreed to, it wasn’t something he’d been given a choice about.

Zhongli had lied too. Or misled, at least. He’d known who Childe was the whole time. Had, to some degree, planned this entire encounter, but he hadn’t forced a link between them. Hadn’t messed with his emotions. And he didn’t like the way the Tsaritsa treated him. He thought Childe deserved more—more attention, more everything.

He looked up at Zhongli, meeting his eye, their noses brushing.

Would it really be so bad?

He’d never been the center of attention before, and it was a heady thought. The idea of having an Archon who served him attention at the same rate he could serve them victories.

(And he couldn’t help the small part of him that had perked up, claws sharp and eyes wide, at the thought of someone doing all of this for him. Someone wanting him so much that they would go through all of the trouble to plan this. Someone risking the ire of another Archon. Just because they want him.)

((The way he’d fucked him until his head was empty wasn’t exactly a downside either, if he were being honest with himself.))

“How much did you plan this?” He whispered, unsure what he wanted the answer to be.

Zhongli’s gaze flickered between his eyes as if he were trying to gauge the right answer, something a little dark sparking at whatever it was he saw.

He leant forward even further, brushing his nose across Childe’s cheek until he could speak right into his ear, lips brushing the cartilage.

“My offering shrines have been defunct since before the Archon War, buried deep into the mountains around Liyue, unfindable by every scholar who searches. You’re the first to see one in many, many years,” He whispered. “It took even me almost a full week to track the vestiges of the prayers held there to find one and re-open it. Then a further week to source and fill it with only the finest treasures to catch your eye.”

Childe shivered, mindlessly clenching his hands in the sleeves of Zhongli’s robe next to his head.

“Is that all?” He rasped, his cheeks pinking.

Zhongli chuckled, nipping at his ear in retaliation. “Of course not. Do you really think you’re worth so little?”

“Filling a lost historical sight with a lifetime of wealth is little?” Childe asked, knocked out of his teasing by Zhongli’s sincerity.

“For you?” Zhongli asked in return, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Absolutely.”

“Cheesy,” Childe said weakly, tilting his head back to press his neck against the softness of Zhongli’s mouth, relishing in the rumbling groan he got in return.

“You tease me,” Zhongli said, shifting his balance to one hand so he could slide the other into Childe’s hair, tipping his head back further. “I am trying my hardest to be respectful of your distress waking up here, but do you have any idea what you look like? Bearing my mark—baring your neck.”

Zhongli’s hot tongue ran slowly from the base of his neck to the hinge of his jaw, where he set his teeth. A hitched, whining moan drawn out of Childe’s mouth before he could swallow it back.

Zhongli bit down, just enough to pinch, goosebumps erupting all over Childe’s arms.

“Zhongli,” He said, voice reedy.

“What is it?” Zhongli murmured. “Can you not handle being teased, sweet boy?”

Childe sputtered, punching at Zhongli’s chest. “Stop calling me sweet!”

“Oh? And why should I, when I have first hand experience of just how sweet you are?” He leant in, sucking sharply at the bend of Childe’s neck. Teeth scraping, mean, until Childe gasped, and he pulled back, licking his lips with a grin. “Sweet, sweet boy. Spun sugar.”

“You’re such an-”

Zhongli kissed him.

It was rough from the outset, making the most of Childe’s mouth being mid-word to immediately slip him his tongue, tracing his teeth. His hand gripped Childe’s chin, keeping him open and easy as Zhongli explored his mouth, ignoring the thumping hands on his chest until the protesting sounds turned to moans.

Childe had forgotten already, somehow, the feeling of all that strength keeping him in place. It was thrilling. It made him want to struggle more, just to feel it—feel those hands get tighter and tighter to keep him still.

He whined when Zhongli pulled away, a thin line of spit snapping between their mouths.

“What was that for?” Childe asked. Weak-kneed, even lying down.

“You really have no clue how much you’re driving me insane,” Zhongli breathed. “You are coated in me. Lit up from the inside with it. My self control can only go so far, Childe.”

“You’ll be good for me again though, won’t you?” He continued, sitting up on his knees between Childe’s legs, his hand still tight on his jaw. An intensity in his eyes that Childe hadn’t seen before, something a little feral.

Childe looked down his own nose to the hand on his jaw, then back up into the eyes locked on his.

He looked ready to pounce, the edges of his control clearly fraying, either from their proximity, or truly because of some kind of mark left on himself that Childe couldn’t see. It was clear, though, that pushing him now would definitely make him snap. Snap how, however, Childe couldn’t be sure. Sexually? Violently?

Both?

Childe drew in a shaky breath, and made his decision.

“Why should I?” He prodded, defiant.

The hand on his jaw tightened painfully for just a flash, matching the spark that ran through Zhongli’s eyes.

Then he grinned, and before Childe could so much as blink, he was face down on the bed, the side of his head pushed roughly into the pillow by the fist in his hair.

He gasped, flailing, but the heat in his stomach flared white hot, his cock twitching against the silk of his borrowed pants.

“I see. Is this what you need, Childe? A reminder of how strong I am?” Zhongli said, his free hand grabbing Childe’s hip and pulling him effortlessly onto his knees, his chest still low against the bed. “Or do you just not want to choose?”

Childe couldn’t quite hold back a groan.

“Oh? Is that it?” He prodded, tugging Childe’s hair at the root when he said nothing, tense in his grip. “My sweet boy just wants to be told he’s mine, not given a choice. You don’t want to worry about getting anything right, just have me put you where I want you.”

“No,” Childe said weakly.

But it was such an intoxicating thought.

No guessing, no wondering. Just doing what he’s told, knowing that it’s exactly what he’s supposed to do, and that the rug wouldn’t be pulled out from underneath him at the last minute.

His cock thickened. That thought, mixed with the slow petting of Zhongli’s hand where it had snuck under his shirt, had his mind slowing. A pleasant haze that had him arching back into the hollow of Zhongli’s hips in an unthinking grind.

Zhongli hummed, pleased. He met the movement with his own, leaving Childe quivering when he felt exactly how hard Zhongli was, pressed tight against his ass.

“Do you want me to choose?” He said, his hand groping Childe’s ass, spreading him open to grind directly against his hole through the thin layers of silk between them.

Childe’s mouth dropped open against the pillow, panting.

“I can do that for you—all you have to do is say yes.”

“I don’t kn-“ Childe broke off with a moan, losing his train of thought as Zhongli reached underneath him to palm at his cock, building a rhythm between his hips and hand.

“Yes or no, Childe?” Zhongli cooed. “It’s that simple, I promise.”

“Zhongli,” Childe moaned, the pleasure overwhelming despite its simplicity.

“Just say no, and I’ll stop,” Zhongli teased, grin evident as his other hand slid under Childe’s chest to palm at his nipples with the callouses of his palms.

He lead them into a slower, maddening grind, and something hot, a pleasure turned up to twelve, golden and heated, spread out from Childe’s lower stomach.

“Say yes and I’ll give you everything.”

Childe whined into the pillow, gnashing his teeth against the edge of it. He couldn’t think straight. Everything was too hot and too much. His brain was clouded with it. It was as though all his valid protests were pouring out of him with the sweat starting to bead on his spine.

“You’re not playing fair,” Childe slurred, barely able to keep his eyes open against the waves of stimulation from both Zhongli’s hands and that strange, fire-hot burning in his stomach.

Zhongli’s hand drifted down, drawing teasing patterns right across where the heat burnt the hottest. Some kind of design Childe couldn’t even attempt to recognize. His voice dropped to rumble, vibrating up his spine. “Am I not? I’m making it so easy for you, xīnjiān, all you have to do is say yes.”

Another pulse of that golden heat seemed to spill from right under Zhongli’s fingers, travelling through him like a physical touch.

It was unnatural. It was too much. Even the most intense encounters in his life had never left Childe this keyed up so quickly, yesterday included.

His hard cock kicked against silk—no doubt already leaving a growing wet spot in the fabric.

Zhongli traced another slow pattern into his abdomen, something almost familiar this time. Something he’d seen bef-

Zhongli’s palm pressed flat with a small slap, like he was pushing something down, and Childe’s voice broke in a loud moan. The pleasure crescendoed without warning, pulling him over the edge with a shocking quickness.

“Please,” He begged mindlessly. His eyes wide, and his cock still twitching like he needed to cum, not having softened for a moment. “Please, please.”

Zhongli shushed him, soothing, even as he continued to grind them together, keeping the pleasure on a mind-breaking simmer.

“You know what you need to say,” He cooed, using a knee to spread Childe’s legs wider. It pushed his chest completely flat against the bed, his hips tilted back obscenely. “One word, and I can make it all feel better.”

Childe moaned, his breathing heavy.

Everything was strange, but he couldn’t keep his train of thought. It had all turned to pleasure. Every shift of fabric, every breath, another spark of heat, twisting him up tighter and tighter.

Zhongli’s hand pushed under the waistband of Childe’s pants, grabbing a handful of his ass. His nails dug in, cruel. The brief flash of pain was overwhelming, and the last threads of Childe’s defences snapped under the sting.

“Yes,” He gasped. “Please, yes—You choose- I don’t care, please.”

Zhongli froze for just a second, as if he hadn’t really expected Childe to give in.

The stillness didn’t last, however, and he moaned as he groped at every available inch of Childe’s body, pulling back for a moment to yank the silk pants down to his knees, pressing back against him immediately, his robe pulled open until they were skin to skin.

“I’m going to treasure you, do you understand, Childe?” He groaned, leaning back to spit, wet-hot, against Childe’s hole, hooking a finger into him without hesitation, leaving him staggered and gasping.

“My sweet boy,” He continued, seeming to take great pleasure in Childe’s inability to stop the thin whining moans that escaped him. A second finger breached his rim, the sting of it making his eyes roll back. “My warrior.”

“Fuck, Zhongli,” Childe slurred, everything blurry and distant under the onslaught of pleasure.

“I was going mad trying to be rational with you,” Zhongli hissed, one hand returning to Childe’s neck to keep him pinned. Another finger pushed inside, curling against his prostate, and stretching him mercilessly. “The scent of me, deep inside you. Marking you. I wanted to do this properly, but how could any living creature resist?”

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” Zhongli then asked, pulling his fingers free. He ignored Childe’s wet gasp, immediately lining his cock up against Childe’s hole, hot and thick.

“Zhongli.”

Childe’s voice was nothing more than a desperate plea, all thoughts other than being filled forcefully shoved from his mind.

The stretch was somehow even more startling the second time. Perhaps from the lingering oversensitivity, or perhaps from the much rougher prep. Either way Childe felt it all the way down to his toes, letting out a weak moan as his hips twitched away from the pleasure involuntarily.

That golden light was back, taking up Childe’s vision and heating him from the inside out. Lax and pliable, like a cat in the sun, his back arching deeply as he let himself be held up solely by his knees

“That’s it,” Zhongli groaned, not hesitating to start a hard rhythm, the slap of his hips against Childe’s ass sharp enough to hurt, adding to the pleasure as he was jolted forward with every thrust.

Childe’s groans filled the room, nothing short of sinful. High pitched moans, too. Shameless as they poured out with every shift of Zhongli’s cock inside him. So big it was molding him to fit it, shaping him from the inside out into something made just for Zhongli. For Rex Lapis.

The pace was punishing. The room hot around them. Childe felt out of his mind with it, rolling his hips back into Zhongli’s thrusts, and clenching at every unrelenting grind across his prostate.

It was a confirmation of everything he’d felt the first time, hips locked in stone. Zhongli’s strength was intoxicating—the helplessness itself, was intoxicating.

There were no decisions to be made. If Zhongli wanted him on his back, he’d put him there. If Zhongli wanted him folded in half, he’d fold him. It was a type of freedom Childe hadn’t known existed.

He moaned, reaching back and slipping his hand between them to press his fingers against where they joined together, fingers sliding against the heat of Zhongli’s cock.

Zhongli groaned, the snap of his hips losing rhythm for a second. his voice hoarse. “The sight you make. I should keep you like this always. Full and begging.”

“Please,” Childe slurred, far gone enough that the words were becoming nothing but noise.

Abruptly, Zhongli’s thrusts changed. No longer borderline brutal, and instead just barely pulling back his hips before he rolled them forward again, grinding into him maddeningly slow.

Childe almost wailed with it. The grinding, intentional pressure on his prostate tipping him over the edge without any warning. Zhongli didn’t pause for a second, Childe’s cock still not being given a chance to soften as the pleasure just continued, painful and addictive.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Zhongli soothed, then leant forward over Childe’s back, pressing his mouth to the nape of his neck. Murmuring like a promise; “Your devotion will not be misplaced here.”

Then he bit down—hard—his teeth breaking skin like it was nothing.

Childe’s moan was more of a scream.

The pain was unimaginable, and infused with a burning heat, as though Zhongli had forced the sun itself into the back of his neck with his teeth.

The euphoria was even greater.

A sense of rightness twisted itself into the already building ecstasy, a cocktail of natural endorphins and something inhuman. A thread, tied tightly between them. A red thread. Not put there by any unseen deity, holding the knowledge of the universe in their palms, but by Zhongli himself, reaching down into the depths of them and tying a crude knot with his own fingers.

Childe came again. A dry orgasm that made his knees tremble, before he’d even had a chance to come down from the second- or the first.

“My boy,” Zhongli groaned, finally seeming to lose the last of his composure, his hips back to snapping with an animalistic force. No real rhythm, just pleasure chasing. Rough and loud, his hips knocking into the fat of Childe’s ass with punishing slaps, the addictive sting running across Childe’s nerves like a live wire.

“Zhongli,” Childe begged, not even sure what he wanted other than more, and less, and everything Zhongli could give him.

“Look at you,” He snarled, yanking Childe’s hips up higher, Childe’s cheek skidding lower across the sheets. “Look.”

He twisted his hand in Childe’s hair, turning his head to the right.

His eyes immediately locked onto the mirror against the wall.

Part of him wanted to close his eyes, mortified to see the debauched distant look on his own face, his mouth open and panting, but he couldn’t look away. His eyes stuck on the image of Zhongli pinning him down, filling him up without a shred of hesitation.

Childe twisted onto one shoulder, reaching further back to press his hand reverently against Zhongli’s taught abs. Zhongli moaned in response, grabbing his thigh and turning him fully onto his side, hooking that knee onto his shoulder.

The new angle let him slip even deeper, and Childe couldn’t have keep eye contact with the mirror anymore even if he’d wanted to, barley able to keep his eyes open at all.

Zhongli turned, pressing his mouth against Childe’s knee, his chest rumbling in an entirely non-human way as his thrusts finally started to stutter.

“Zhongli, I can’t-” Childe begged.

Overwhelmed tears beaded his eyelashes. There was no way he was getting hard again so soon, and the relentless stimulation paired with the continued, overwhelming, rightness of whatever bond had been made between them, had black spotting the edges of his vision.

“Shh, just a little bit more,” Zhongli gasped.

He dug his teeth into Childe’s knee—blunter than before, thankfully—with a broken groan.

Childe swore he could feel the hot spill of the cum inside him, filling him up. It felt right. Fulfilling. He looked down at his stomach, oddly feeling as though he’d be able to see it if he tried hard enough.

His breath caught.

A golden sigil rested between his hip bones, below his navel, settled into the skin like a tattoo. Soft curves contrasted with sharp angles. It was glowing like fireflies. Ebbing, then brightening, in soft waves.

Childe brushed his shaky fingers across it, Zhongli’s thrusts calming into almost unmoving grinds that sent occasional sparks of breath-catching pleasure through Childe’s fried nerves.

“Do you like it?” Zhongli asked, voice rough, his eyes locked on Childe’s careful exploration. “I’ve never given one before, but I think it came out wonderfully.”

“Wha-” Childe started, then had to clear his throat. “What is it?

“My favor,” Zhongli said, lifting Childe’s leg off of his shoulder. Carefully, he helped him turn onto his back without letting his softening cock slip from inside him.

Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to the center of the mark.

A tingling awareness, not unlike a soft vibration, spread through every line, like the mark was acknowledging the man that bestowed it.

Zhongli spoke, his mouth brushing against the sensitive skin. “It’s a blessing. A family crest, of sorts. Just as my father bore my mothers, you now bear mine.”

Childe swallowed.

This was a lot more than an x-rated twist on a pledge to an Archon, he realized nervously.

Zhongli looked up at him through his lashes from where his head rested on Childe’s stomach. He watched Childe’s face for a moment, seeming to read the growing discomfort.

He lifted himself just enough to smile, soft and unassuming. It was almost comforting—reassuringly kind—but there was something calculating in his eyes that made Childe’s stomach tense. They flashed briefly, not unlike the mark that was now part of him.

Before he could say anything, he was surprised by his own yawn, overcome, all at once, by a heavy exhaustion.

It pulled him under quickly, warm and familiar, all of the tension in his body leaving him in a flash.

Zhongli’s smile widened, and he shifted further up the bed, pressing a soft kiss to Childe’s mouth. Gentle, unhurried. Childe’s eyes growing heavy.

“Rest,” Zhongli said softly, a shrewd edge still in his gaze. “The hardest part is over. We can talk more tomorrow.”

Childe’s eyebrows pinched in confusion, but his eyes slipped shut before he could reply.

He dreamt of gold.

 

Notes:

i wrote abt 80% of this during a 3 day insomnia flare up that also at one point had me walking to a local park to lay down in the grass at 1am so i've done my best to edit it but pls forgive anything that's a little off 😭

hope you enjoyed at least a little bit!!

Notes:

hope u enjoyed!! pls know that in a world where i can write more than 10k this was going to be a full canon divergence au and i stare wistfully into the distance abt it every day