Work Text:
Childe is…quite the unusual human.
His manners are peculiar, and most of the time Zhongli can’t understand what he is thinking.
Like that day at the bank, after Liyue successfully brought down Osial. For some reason he seems to be eyeing Signora closely instead of listening to his explanations, even staying between the two of them when he handed his Gnosis.
He doesn’t think much about it. The younger man seems quite upset with him, with the deathly glare he sent his way through the whole thing, and maybe Childe wasn’t too comfortable for a Geo Archon who deceived him to be close to a fellow ally.
That’s understandable, but he still doesn’t get how Childe tucks him closer to himself every time Signora tries to come close, the lady smiling with the biggest smirk of the day but Childe is almost fuming.
Perhaps they weren’t in such a close relationship as Zhongli originally thought. But some people are like oil and water, and yet still care about each other.
That must be it.
What Zhongli doesn’t understand is why Childe asked him out, like their usual evening, for a light dinner at the Liyue Pavillion on the same day.
He thought Childe was mad at him.
But they had dinner together, just like a normal day. It was slightly awkward at the start, mostly on Zhongli’s part, but Childe’s lighthearted stories quickly ease up the atmosphere, and Zhongli finds himself enjoying his company, just like always.
Childe kisses him on their way back, soft and chaste, his eyes gleaming like the sea in the harbor and tinted with the orange of Liyue.
“Childe?” Childe’s face is unbelievably red and Zhongli holds his laughter in. For once the man is looking like his age, and he finds it somewhat endearing.
The younger man says nothing, and he holds his hand the entire way back.
Zhongli doesn’t think much of it. It might have been the wine, or it might have been an unthinking act. He doubts Childe means anything by it either.
Childe is amusing at times.
For someone who always complains about his spending habits, and while he knows he needs to fix it immediately as a mortal, Childe is always taking him on shopping trips.
Or, more like Childe ends up accompanying him.
Especially when he specifies that he’s going over to Master Zhang, Liyue’s most renowned blacksmith, for a quick visit. Childe always follows him religiously even if he has important work to do. Zhongli already told him multiple times that he’s fine alone and he will bring mora with him, but Childe always mutters something about how it’s not the mora he’s worried about.
Master Zhang always seems a little on edge whenever Childe comes along. Odd.
He once told him to come, possibly with mora and without the Harbinger. The burly man doesn’t answer him why though, and Master Zhang always ends up changing the subject to something else.
Childe’s reputation has never been the best in Liyue, but it has gotten even worse after the Osial fiasco. It might be that, but Zhongli feels like there’s more than meets the eye.
But today, for once, he is alone. Childe is busy dealing with his work, perhaps cleaning up after everything and dealing with negotiations with Ningguang, and Zhongli hasn’t seen him since the morning.
Master Zhang’s face lit up as soon as he saw him. “Mr. Zhongli, good day.” He greets him with a slight stutter, and his cheeks seem unusually flushed.
“Hello.” Zhongli greets him sweetly, trying to put him at ease, “Have you been well?”
Master Zhang coughs, giving him a sheepish smile and his eyes dart around, looking for something, and Zhongli chuckles.
“I came alone today. Childe is busy with his work.”
“Is that so!” He continues, his tone jolly, “Ah, welcome. Do you have anything you need?”
Master’s Zhang’s weapons are always the best in Liyue, perhaps even one of the best in the world. Each of his creations is filled with passion and love and talent, and every one of them is beautiful.
Zhongli takes up a jade sword, somewhat similar to what he used back in the day. How nostalgic.
“This sword has beautiful craftsmanship,” He says with a soft smile, his slender fingers tracing the markings of the sword.
Master Zhang gulps, not sure why, but the beautiful man touching his creations so tenderly is very erotic.
“Master Zhang?” Zhongli calls him, tilting his head to meet his eyes, and the man splutters, his face getting even redder.
His entire face is as red as a tomato. It’s getting slightly warmer lately, but still nothing near summer.
Zhongli slips his gloves off, and Master Zhang watches him closely as his slender, pale fingers slip out. His temperature is always slightly low, he thinks, and Zhongli presses his palm to the man’s left cheek.
Master Zhang flinches. The cold fingers against his warm cheeks feel nice, but the red in his face doesn’t seem to calm down.
“Are you alright? You seem...a little red.” He can feel Master Zhang’s warm cheeks on his bare hands, “It might be a fever, you should-”
He didn’t even get to finish his sentence when another hand, rough yet familiar, grabs him and pulls him away. Master Zhang’s red face immediately turns blue and Zhongli doesn’t think that’s healthy.
Even without looking back, Zhongli knows who it is just by its stature.
“Childe.” He greets him, surprise laced in his voice, “I thought you’re going to be busy the whole day today?”
It might be Zhongli, but Childe seems like he’s in a terrible mood. His eyes are gleaming dangerously at Master Zhang, but the hand on his wrist is tight yet gentle enough to not hurt him.
“...Childe?” He asks again, his other hand wiping the sweat on Childe’s forehead. He must have run on the way here, “Is something the matter? You look...flustered.”
Childe glares at him. “You…” He sighs exasperatedly, “Mr. Zhongli, what the hell.”
Zhongli stares at him, obviously confused, and Master Zhang tries his best to make himself small and ignores the two of them.
Is Childe on bad terms with Master Zhang? But Childe often comes to him for new weapons and such, and he always happily accompanies him to the blacksmith all this time.
Childe's blue eyes stare at him as if he's contemplating what to do. Childe ends up heaving another loud sigh before locking his hands with his, their fingers fitting with each other perfectly, and pulls him along. The younger man’s actions feel very protective, but Zhongli doesn't feel uncomfortable at all.
“Childe?” He calls him again, still somewhat worried. Childe keeps on walking, passing through the marketplace and back to the bridge leading to the funeral parlor.
The younger man then turns his head, an angry expression on his face and it tugs his heart. He doesn’t like that face on Childe.
Zhongli whispers his name again and locks their eyes together. “Childe, what is the matter?”
Childe doesn’t answer him immediately, but his fingers sweep his bangs to the right, and his blue eyes are gazing at him so tenderly like Zhongli is his world.
“I don’t like you so close with the blacksmith.” He admits, somewhat like a child forced to admit his wrongdoings, and Zhongli chuckles.
“Okay, I won’t go there anymore.” He says without a single hesitation. If Childe doesn’t like him doing something, Zhongli can easily give it up, as long as he will stop giving him that sad look.
Childe shakes his head quickly, “No, not like that.” He continues, “I...No. Mr. Zhongli, just take me with you when you go there, alright?”
“Okay.” He tells him with a smile.
“Okay,” Childe answers him with a relieved smile blooming on his face, before dipping his head to steal a quick kiss off his lips.
It catches him off guard, but Zhongli accepts it, pressing his lips back against Childe’s and the younger man pulls him into a tight hug.
It feels warm, and Zhongli loves the feeling of being in his embrace.
The traveler comes to visit him one day, when the weather turns chilly and the sea breeze grows harsh, bringing an old friend along that Zhongli never expected to see after so long.
“Ah! Old man!”
For Barbatos to come into his lands, it must have been years.
The rascal looks as annoying as ever. Not to mention slightly drunk, he must have gotten a hold of some wine from the streets. Wine in the cold weather is scrumptious, after all.
The traveler beside him looks at Zhongli sheepishly and somewhat apologetic, but Zhongli gives her a comforting smile. The drunkard bard must have pestered her to bring him to Liyue, the poor child.
“Barbatos.” Zhongli sighs, “Please stop troubling the traveler.”
“Hey!” He yells out dramatically, a hand on his chest, “You wound me, old friend! I specifically requested the traveler to take me along to see you, and you give me this?”
Zhongli sighs again. Dealing with the Anemo Archon always gives him headaches. Venti reminds him of Master Hu, and the thought of dealing with the two of them together already sends a chill down his spine.
The bard skips closer to him, floaty with his steps and with the nastiest smirk across his face and Zhongli hates the shine in his eyes. He knows immediately that those eyes mean nothing but trouble, and Zhongli has experienced it way more often than he’d like to.
Zhongli doesn’t even realize it as Venti pushes him back to the floor, pinning him with his two lithe hands.
“Morax-, no, Zhongli. I missed you.” He whispers in his ears, “You look so pretty with your guard down, as always.”
From the corners of his eyes, he can see the traveler and Paimon from the corner of the room faces as pale as a sheet and looking at each other not knowing what to do. A ‘fight’ between Archons is a rare sight, after all.
Venti’s hold is surprisingly heavy and unmoving, perhaps something to do with the anemo glow around his wrists, but nothing that Zhongli cannot deal with. He’d just rather not cause any commotion inside, considering the ferrylady is still stationed right in front of his room.
He’s not even done with his thoughts when he hears a familiar voice calling his name.
“Mr. Zhongli?”
Zhongli’s heart lurches, and the sound of the door opening and the familiar footsteps bring him back to attention. Childe entering while he’s trapped under Venti’s surprising strength is truly something he’d rather him not see, but it’s too late anyway.
Childe comes into the room, face morphing from a smile to a shocked one before it turns dark, and he doesn’t waste a moment before grabbing the bard before harshly tossing him away from Zhongli. Venti, the usual troublemaker, only laughs and glides joyfully, landing perfectly on his feet with the sneaky grin.
It doesn’t help to quell Childe’s temper, that’s for sure.
“Childe!” He grabs his arm quickly before anything else happens. Anyone close to Venti knows that the bard is only joking and playing around, but of course, anyone else would easily misunderstand.
“Hello there, Mister Fatui!” Venti calls him with jolly in his voice, and Zhongli feels a vein pop in his forehead, “It’s nice to meet the guard dog sticking around my beautiful Morax lately.”
The traveler and Paimon screeches, pulling Venti back before he causes any more trouble. The violet shade of Childe's eyes is getting slightly worrisome, Zhongli thinks to himself, and he’d rather not have a fight break inside the parlor.
Childe glares at him, his blue eyes tinted with purple, and Venti sneers playfully in return. “Don’t be mad! Don’t be mad! Geez, you have a terrible temper!”
Zhongli desperately wants to kick Venti out right away, but instead, he grabs Childe’s face to calm him down.
“Don’t worry Childe.” Zhongli looks straight into his eyes, “It’s an old friend.”
Childe doesn’t seem any less cautious, but the color of his eyes tones back to blue, and Zhongli heaves a relieved sigh.
“Barbatos, it would be nice if you’d stop messing around.”
“Oh! I go by Venti now.” He says teasingly, “And you’re Zhongli now! I heard from the traveler. And what do you mean by messing around? I’m always 100% serious.”
It’s difficult to know what Venti is thinking from his goofy smile and his playful tone, and Zhongli’s hold on Childe’s arms tightens as soon as he hears him mutter something about fighting an Archon. He doubts Venti will spar with a mortal, but still.
The atmosphere in the room is terrible and he won’t be surprised if a fight breaks right at this moment. The traveler tries making herself smaller at the corner of the room, and he feels bad making her uncomfortable.
“Alright, the two of you, calm down.” He tries again, pulling Childe back behind him, “Traveler, I apologize for the...uncomfortable atmosphere. Are you alright?”
The traveler nods, but the chill in the room doesn't fade.
“Morax,” Venti calls his old name, and it feels like Zhongli is back, thousands of years ago. It’s somehow nostalgic, he thinks to himself.
“Don’t play around like that anymore, Morax.” Venti tells him, his tone solemn, and Zhongli knows he must have hurt his friend with his reckless and solitary plan, “You scared me for a moment there. If the traveler didn’t tell me whatever happened I would have truly believed that you are dead.”
Zhongli knows that in the neatly woven plan he planned by himself, a lot of his precious ones are going to get hurt.
Venti, the Adeptus, the people of Liyue and also, Childe.
He knows, and Zhongli still decided to go with it. He is truly blessed to know that his Adeptus still put their trust in him, and Childe is still together with him.
Venti too, the last of his old friends, must be terribly hurt by everything.
He also knows that it’s not an apology that Venti is looking for.
“Venti.” Zhongli smiles at him, so tenderly and beautifully, and Venti’s face immediately turns red, “It’s always good to see you again.”
It reminds Venti back in the day when he first met Morax in the plains of glaze lilies. It has been years and the man is still so ever beautiful to the point that words are stuck in his throat. The dark strands of his long, silky hair, and his golden eyes shine like gold.
Beautiful, and even more now, with ease and happiness in his eyes and the long pressure of a nation lifted from his shoulders.
“Zhongli.” He replies, somewhat nonchalantly, “You really changed, my friend.”
Zhongli smiles.
“Yes. It’s been long, long years.”
Venti gives him a bright, knowing smile.
An outburst of wind carries him up, his feet comfortably lifted from the ground and Venti brings himself close to Zhongli, quick enough that Childe couldn’t react on time. The bard didn’t even waste a single second before sneaking a soft peck on his cheek.
“Ehe!” Venti cackles at Childe’s murderous look, flying upwards, “See you later, Zhongli! Make sure to put that rabid dog on a leash next time~!”
Zhongli isn’t even done taking in whatever happened, but the bard is gone just like that, like the wind, leaving green trails of anemo around them.
A gentle and lofty breeze, but not enough to feel the chill. When Zhongli realizes it, a single cecilia sits in his lap, blooming beautifully and Zhongli takes in the sweet smell of the flower.
How very like him, he sighs fondly. The prankster personality of that drunkard didn’t change at all, even after thousands of years.
“What did he mean by dog though?” Zhongli asks, turning his head to Childe and the traveler, not particularly asking anyone specific but the atmosphere around them seems weird.
Paimon floats next to him, “What do you mean, Zhongli! It’s obviously about Child-”
Childe doesn’t let the fairy finish her words and grabs her on the collar harshly.
“Eek!” She cries out pitifully, “This is unfair! Paimon was just answering Zhongli’s question!”
The traveler sighs at the end of the room, not wanting to join in the mess but she feels responsible enough to not leave without a word. “Not Paimon fuelling the fire..” Zhongli hears her mutter under her breath.
“We’ll leave you to your job then, Mr. Zhongli!” Childe smiles at him, but even Zhongli feels that his smile is somewhat scary, “While I and the traveler will get out long-awaited reunion battle! Right, partner?”
Lumine’s face gives him a disgusted, tired face, but she relents anyway and leaves first with a wave of her hand.
Zhongli gazes at the lone flower in his hand, wondering what to do. He should get a vase, but he doubts there’s any laying around the parlor and there isn’t any time to purchase one right now.
Without a word, Childe takes the flower in his hand and slips it in his left ear. The white petals settle in his hair, swaying at his every move and he looks at him so lovingly that he almost forgets that it’s him that Childe is looking at right now.
Why is Childe looking at him like that, Zhongli wonders in his heart.
“You look beautiful.” He says, with a bright smile, “See you later, Mr. Zhongli.”
Childe leaves with a peck on his cheek, and Zhongli finds himself missing the sound of the familiar footsteps as he disappears to somewhere he will never know.
Living amongst mortals has always been something that he’s used to, even way before Liyue existed. He lived, he traveled, and he fought together with the precious, fleeting little humans he took under his wings, long enough that human habits settled.
Having the body of a mortal though is a completely different matter.
He knows that he has basic needs to fulfill. Zhongli always remembers to eat, drink, bathe, and sleep enough every day, but a mortal body is even frailer than he initially thought.
“Master Diluc,” Zhongli starts, embarrassment obvious in his voice, “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Lumine has lectured him for two long hours after he threw himself off the mountain trying to save the young girl. He honestly forgot that no mortal would have survived a fall from the steepest mountain in Liyue, and the young master of the Dawn Winery who cuts in between the lecture to treat his wounds tells him that he was extremely lucky, ending up with only a broken ankle and some nasty bruises.
“Even a God can die. You should take care of yourself more.” Diluc tells him as he carries Zhongli in his arms, trying his best to not aggravate the wound. The young man is stoic and blunt and very outspoken, but his every move is gentle and kind even though they’ve just met this morning.
Zhongli is glad that Lumine is accompanied by such kind people in her life. Perhaps it would make her search for her brother a little easier.
“It doesn’t seem like he can eat a sweet madame in this state… What should we do?!” He can hear Paimon yelling out, floating around them erratically, “Will a fried egg work if we force it down his throat?”
“Paimon, it’s not the time to be joking around.” Lumine sighs, her soft, cold hand touching his cheek, “Zhongli, we need to bring you back immediately, you’re losing too much blood.” She says, “Diluc will be carrying you back, is that okay?”
Zhongli weakly nods.
At his consent, Diluc tucks him in his arms, arms under his neck and another under his knee, trying to find a more comfortable spot for Zhongli. His coat is draped neatly on him, and his blood is quickly staining a part of it, but the young man doesn’t seem to care much about it.
He is warm and comfortable, and he has the comforting scent of ripe grapes and wine and the wind.
He chuckles. As expected of the man from the city of freedom, the city of the Anemo God.
Zhongli feels small in the arms of the younger man. Weird, because Diluc is probably a few centimeters shorter than him, but his shoulders are wider and his arms are muscled. The man is wielding a claymore like he’s holding a broomstick, so it’s not that surprising, he thinks to himself.
"You're similar to that bard." Diluc says offhandedly, "Eyes off for a second and you’re already getting yourself in trouble.”
Zhongli tries to laugh, but the pain in his stomach flares, and he can only cough. Diluc props himself higher, trying to give him more air and ease and it subdues as easily as it comes.
Diluc is completely different from Childe, and the both of them will probably get along like a cat and a dog, but he reminds Zhongli of him for some reason. There’s endless kindness and gentleness under the mask they are wearing, and Zhongi hopes that more people can see it one day.
Zhongli plops his head to his chest. The blood loss is affecting his head and he can’t think straight.
It’s probably the first time he’s even been so weak. Wounds like these are nothing to him, or at least in the past. Losing his Gnosis must have taken away a big chunk of his innate recovery, more than he ever imagined.
“Zhongli?” Diluc calls his name, worried. “Are you alright? Should we take a break?”
Lumine stares at his weak state, his entire body bloody and bruised, unshed tears brimming in her eyes.
Zhongli feels quite terrible for ruining the young child’s day. Having her worry about him isn’t exactly something he wanted either, not to mention how Diluc’s coat is red with his blood. He’ll need to prepare some mora to reimburse him, but it’s not like he has them on him now...or ever.
Ah, he misses Childe.
Somehow Childe will always be there whenever Zhongli forgot to bring his money. He’s been wondering if Childe has been following him around, but most of the time he can see the younger man doing his work for the bank around Liyue, so all might also be a coincidence. There’s no way the young man will pop up now in the middle of nowhere, but Zhongli’s mind wanders to the gentle smile Childe always gives him.
Diluc’s palm on his forehead wakes him up from his thoughts, and to the worried eyes of Paimon and the traveler, and Zhongli gives them a small smile to comfort them.
“I think we should hurry back!” Paimon cuts in, trying to ease up the atmosphere. Yes, Zhongli thinks to himself, it’s not like he’ll die easily so he hopes the traveler won’t be too worried. “He’s losing blood and we don’t have a healer, but if we go now we can reach by the evening!” She continues.
“I think that’s for the best.” Diluc tells her, “If we hurry, we might reach the harbor by noon.”
He doesn’t remember much about the way down, but he remembers being tucked in tightly as Diluc ran, jumping down the steps as gently as possible as he followed the traveler back.
It’s mid-afternoon when they can smell the sea and when the warm colors of the city are in full view. Lumine runs off somewhere immediately as they reach the gates of Liyue, yelling something about leaving Diluc and Paimon to bring him to Bubu Pharmacy safely.
He tries asking where the young lady went, his voice hoarser than he thought it’d be, but Paimon only answers him by, “Getting the guy in charge of you, of course!”
He has no idea what that means, but Diluc covers his head with his coat and tells him to be quiet and just rest instead.
The journey to the pharmacy surely isn’t as hard as traveling down the mountains of Liyue with an injured man, and the man carrying him doesn’t even break a single sweat the whole journey. The hardest part is the curious stares of the people in the marketplace or the harbor, but Diluc hastens his steps and they arrive without much trouble.
One look at his bloody state, propped against Diluc’s arms, and Baizhu ushers them in immediately, ordering Qiqi to get several herbs he couldn’t make out in his current condition.
Diluc doesn’t even get to set Zhongli down on the bed before the door to the room opens and Baizhu heaves a heavy sigh.
“Mr. Zhongli?!”
At the sight of a Fatui, Diluc tugs him closer, his face obvious with worry for the injured man in his arms. If a fight breaks out here it would be hard for Zhongli to get treatment, and he is in dire need of one. He summons his claymore, his pyro vision blazing red and ready for combat.
“Let him go.” Childe’s voice is deep and rough, completely unlike how he usually speaks to him, “He’s not someone you can easily touch.”
Diluc doesn’t answer him, and Childe's anger flares, the blob of water floating around him shaping itself as the hydro blade Childe usually uses in his melee stance. Diluc's claymore glistens in red dangerously in return and Lumine feels a chill down her spine.
“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!” Paimon screeches, flailing around between the two, “Put that down!! He’s not a bad guy! I mean he was, and I guess he still is, but wait!!!”
“It would be nice if the new guests can refrain from destroying my clinic and get out.” Baizhu cuts in, with the scariest tone of the three, “There’s an emergency patient.”
Young Qiqi ushers them out, and in the corner of his eyes, he could faintly see Lumine berating Childe for running off and leaving her, and to add, causing a disturbance in a hospital. Zhongli chokes out a small laugh and the pain in his stomach flares.
It doesn’t take long for him to lose his consciousness as the tender green light of dendro covers the entire room, and a cool breeze surrounds his entire body and the last thing he sees is the pink eyes of Qiqi, staring down at him innocently.
Zhongli wakes up to the setting sun and a heavy weight on the side of his bed.
The orange mob of hair moves and he laughs at Childe’s obviously tired face, dark bags under his sleepy eyes, and Zhongli greets him with a soft good morning. His throat is still rough and without a word, Childe immediately takes the glass of water from the bedside into his hand and helps Zhongli up to drink.
“It’s not funny, Mr. Zhongli.” He says with the biggest frown on his handsome face, “You’ve been asleep for two days, you sleepyhead.”
Zhongli reaches for messy orange locks and tries quelling his bed hair with his fingers. Doesn’t seem to work.
“You worried me.” Childe whispers to him, “Imagine my shock when the traveler barged into the bank with tears in her eyes. You should apologize to the young lady.”
He should. Childe adds that the traveler is off, back to the wilderness together with Diluc and a young boy called Bennett now though, telling him how she’ll definitely bring a healer everywhere now before leaving.
Zhongli chuckles. He must have worried her quite a bit.
“I’m sorry.” He says, touching his cheek, “I will.”
Childe takes his hand into his and holds it tightly.
“You’re still feverish.” Childe’s palm feels cool against his temple, and Zhongli notices how his body is burning up and he still feels sick even though his wound is closed up.
Zhongli hums, savoring his cold hand. Childe's vision glows blue in the sunset-kissed room, and he realizes that the younger man must be using his vision as a cooling catalyst.
Childe plays around with his bangs, sweeping the strands of black hair to the side with an annoyed expression.
“I don’t like the guy touching you.” He says suddenly, and Zhongli takes a few seconds to identify who was he talking about, “I tried paying for his coat, but he threw my money to the floor, rude.”
Zhongli laughs. Diluc hates Fatui more than anything else in the world, and of course, including Childe. He was hoping that they would never meet but Lumine must have called Childe for him. Considering the clinic is still in one piece, it’s a miracle that they didn’t immediately break into a fight back then.
Childe also whispers something about telling the traveler to stop bringing strange people to see him, and Zhongli chuckles. A friend of the traveler is a friend of his, and the young Ragnvindr is a good person, he says.
He doesn’t seem satisfied with his answer.
But their hands stay locked together, throughout the night, Childe beside him as he waits for his fever to break, and he finds comfort in the fact that Childe is always by his side, whenever he’s weak.
“You’re sometimes rather peculiar, Childe,” Zhongli says one day. He doesn’t mean it as an insult, but Childe puts on a playful offended face, a hand on his chest.
“Mr. Zhongli, you wound me!” He says with a teasing tone, “I thought I’m your favorite human!”
Zhongli chuckles at him. “Of course you are.” He answers him with a sweet smile, and Childe’s cheeks turn red, “But still, sometimes I don’t understand what you are thinking.”
Zhongli's wound has considerably healed, but Baizhu always reminds him to not go overboard because it was deep enough to kill a normal human, he says. To this day he still wonders if the doctor actually knew his true identity, or was it just a random guess.
Childe drags him to his living quarters as soon as he’s discharged. There’s not a single discussion about it, the younger man saying that there’s no knowing if something happened to him because he lives alone. In a way, he isn’t wrong, but Zhongli is capable enough to take care of himself.
He ends up agreeing with him.
Living with Childe is...comfortable, or to say.
Zhongli likes sitting on the sofa with him, snuggling together with a fluffy flannel blanket and a cup of warm tea on the side. Or how Childe embraces him as they sleep, sharing each other’s warmth. Or how Childe wakes him up with a beautiful smile in the morning, kissing him good morning.
It feels...oddly intimate.
“You know you can just ask me about it if there’s anything you want to know, right?” Childe answers him with a teasing tone, playing with his hair and braiding it with the flowers Childe brought home today.
Zhongli hums, contemplating where to start.
“Ah.” He looks to the side, where Childe is snuggling beside him, “Then..”
“Hm?”
“Do you not like Master Zhang?” He asks curiously.
Childe puts his fingers on his chin, confused.
“The blacksmith?” Zhongli nods, “I don’t personally dislike him? His weapons are beautifully crafted. Why so suddenly though?”
Zhongli hums, “You always seem a little agitated whenever I visit the blacksmith. I thought you had something going on with him.”
Realization dawns in and Childe’s face immediately turns as red as a tomato.
“Wait, that’s-”
“And Barba-, no, Venti too. You were quite...hostile towards him.” Zhongli mumbles, laying his head on the crook of his neck, and in habit Childe’s hand quickly settles on his waist, “He’s just messing around, so I hope you understand to not take him too seriously.”
“No... That guy is definitely not playing around.” Childe mutters under his breath, but Zhongli didn't catch it.
“Pardon?”
“Nope. I’m fine. I don’t dislike them.” He says, somewhat awkwardly, his words rigid, “I just don’t like them around you, Zhongli.”
Zhongli tilts his head in confusion.
“Why?’
Childe sighs exasperatedly, his hands on his shoulders and they meet eye to eye.
“I’m being jealous, you big doofus.” Childe says, the tip of his fingers tracing his cheeks, “Sometimes you’re so oblivious I’m worried that some other people will trick you and take you away from me.”
“Jea...lous?” Zhongli repeats slowly as if he’s trying to make sense of what Childe is saying.
“I like you, you dense blockhead.” Childe says, eyes looking straight at his, “I’m jealous because I like you.”
Zhongli blinks slowly, trying to take in what Childe is saying.
“You...like me?”
“Yes, I like you. I want to kiss you, I want to hug you, I want to wreck you to the point you come undone under my arms, and leave you crying for my name.” Childe is borderline yelling at him, his face red as a tomato, “Is that not clear enough, you doofus?”
Oh.
Oh.
Childe likes him.
A smile blooms on his face at the realization.
Childe likes him.
Zhongli lifts his face, back to the younger man’s red one, and he tries his best to not burst out laughing. It doesn’t seem to work though, and Childe jabs him on his stomach.
“Childe, you’re adorable.”
Childe grabs his waist and pulls him for a kiss, somewhat hesitant and laced with worry, but Zhongli smiles into it, pressing his lips back and he wraps his arms around his head to bring them closer.
The man kissing him is warm, and gentle in everything he does. He tips his head, deepening the kiss, the arms around Zhongli stay strong and he doesn’t let him go the slightest.
“I like you too, Childe.” He whispers in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Childe's arms around him tighten and he’s lifted to the air.
Sometimes he’s surprised at Childe’s strength. Surely lifting a man with the same stature as he would be quite a difficult feat, but he is doing it so effortlessly with a bright smile on his face.
“Of course you do.” He adds teasingly, “It’s a big wonder why you never realized it before. I thought kissing you in the lips was obvious enough.”
Zhongli laughs.
“You’re also quite the jealous man.” He teases back, with the most beautiful smile Childe has ever seen in his life.
“I won’t deny that.” He says, pulling him into another kiss.