Chapter Text
His heart races, the tempo loud and thrumming in his every vein as he stares at the vessel. It can't possibly be, right? Yet here he is, standing over a Gnosis-less Exuvia, his body taxed from using his Foul Legacy. Fuck, fuck, fuck…It cannot possibly end like this. His mission failed, his body on the verge of collapse. The Traveler looks at him with betrayal, fury blazing in the depths of their now emotionless eyes.
"It's…not here. The Gnosis…" Childe chokes out, crumbling to his knees as Paimon huffs behind him.
"That's what we were trying to tell you this whole time!" The little flying creature exclaims, moving towards him in hopes of at least helping him up, but the Traveler turns away.
"Paimon, let's go. He'll be fine." And ignoring Paimon's (slightly worried) protests, they pull her out of the Golden House, leaving Childe to succumb to his mistakes and regrets.
Useless. Why am I like this? If I'd listened to them first, maybe…maybe I'd be alright. Why does everyone hate me? Is it my personality? Is it the Abyss?
Before he knows it, tears are rolling down his cheeks, his heart clenching and slowly being throttled by self-hatred and shame. Childe furiously wipes these tears away—crying will get him nowhere. He tells himself that, and yet they don't stop. Rather, more of these transparent pearls roll down his cheeks the more he tries to stop it.
Tears will freeze over, my dearest Tartaglia. And when they do, the best you can do is not let it melt.
Right. The words the Tsaritsa had given him, after a particularly strong wave of homesickness hit him around the time he only just ascended to Harbinger. It comes back to him now, and he tries to ease his breathing, his heart falling back into a steady pace rather than the erratic thumping it was before. That panic, the mortification he felt at himself slowly made way for anger.
Someone sabotaged his mission. It had to be. Most likely one of his other colleagues, after all, he knew for a fact that La Signora would have been more than happy to get him kicked out for good. Scaramouche too, and possibly Il Dottore.
Whoever it is, he swears vengeance, knowing that the Tsaritsa will not accept failure. But, first of all, a more pressing matter. He had, after all, knocked out all the Millelith guarding the Golden House. Criminal charges would definitely be pushed upon him, and the only way to avoid this was…a distraction. One that would disrupt the whole of Liyue. One knee after the other, and despite the soreness and pain he feels racking across his body, he doesn't relent, summoning the Sigils of Permission, fakes that he had obtained from the Doctor but which works all the same.
"Osial, I release thee."
He managed to utter these words, and immediately, the Sigils disintegrate, a wave of overwhelming power surrounding him. So this is the true power of a survivor of the Archon War. A manic grin overtakes his face, knowing that Osial will probably be wrecking havoc across the nation. But one qualm stays in his mind, the only person that he has found himself to care for.
Zhongli. Please, survive. I'm sorry. You might hate me after, but I hope you'll at least understand why I did this.
That's his final waking thought before all the activities he has done caught up to him, and he falls to his knees, eyes fluttering shut and body going limp.
—
Sitting on a table at Wanmin Restaurant, Zhongli feels something strange. Like a tug in his heart, another tug, before his back bows in pain, the sudden feeling like a blade stabbing through his heart, the pain more than he has ever felt, now only amplified with his mortal form. Is there an assassin? It certainly seems not, since, well, he's not bleeding or anything. And nobody bats an eye. The pain continues, only amplifying before suddenly stilling. It's like the world itself has become dead calm, the sound of silence deafening.
And that's when the flood hits.
He should be relieved. The flood means that Osial has been released, that he is one step closer to his retirement. But instead, the feeling is pushed away by the dread he feels. How will he be able to look his beloved in the eyes? After all, he is but all a pawn in the grand scheme of things. And as much as Zhongli doesn't want to admit it, he knows it's true. But first…he has other matters to tend to.
The Golden House is a disaster zone. Millelith knocked out on the ground, unconscious and likely to have to deal with an ass-kicking headache tomorrow, and yet nothing matters more to Zhongli than the broken, unconscious body he sees lying on the floor inside. The occupant of his heart, the mortal that tests his self-control every day, tear streaks that make his once stone-hard heart pang in his chest evident on his face when Zhongli picks his body up, bridal-style. And before he even stops to think about where he is going, his feet move on his own, taking young Ajax to his apartment opposite the Northland Bank, pants growing wet as the flood rises.
The familiar scent of glaze lilies and qingxin flowers engulfs him as he opens the door to Childe's apartment, the perfume Zhongli had once gifted him (with his own Mora, to his shock,) and which he cried over when it ran out before buying a whole stash of it. His heart breaks a little more knowing that all this will have to go.
Zhongli's heart aches as he places Childe's unconscious form on the bed, thoughts of the two of them sitting together, with him having calmly listened to the younger man talk energetically about Snezhnaya or complain about his subordinates. After all, he has a feeling that he won't be experiencing this for a while. A spell is cast on Childe, to make sure no nightmares plague him and give him a peaceful rest, the glowing mark of the Geo Sigil on Childe's stomach shielding him from the rest of the world. Zhongli turns to leave, his hand resting on the door handle, his body reluctant to leave him behind even when his mind is telling him that it is the most logical thing to do. And before he can stop himself, Zhongli releases his grip on the cool metal, heading back to where Childe was resting peacefully on his bed. The sight is beautiful, his ginger hair slightly messy, eyes closed in relaxation and breaths steady. He leans closer, close enough to feel the boy's warm breath on his cheek, the warmth soothing. One, two, three, four. His steady rhythm is a contrast to Zhongli's thrumming heartbeat, something that he hadn't even noticed. A bad decision is rooted in his mind, and he wants to reject it, turn it away, but…
I've already made a bad decision by lying to him. What's one more?
That thought is the loudest. Zhongli leans in, his forehead touching with the other's. And before he can take a moment to think about just how bad a decision that is, he closes the distance, his lips pressed against Childe's.
And, oh, how wonderful the sensation is. No matter how many times Zhongli has dreamt about it, the action itself is so much better than in his fantasies. His lips are plump, albeit a little cold, and as Zhongli presses closer, the unconscious man lets out a little whimper in his sleep. Hearing that, Zhongli's eyes widen. Is Childe awake? He quickly pulls away, his heart racing at the thought of getting caught. But he's still asleep, thank Celestia. Childe's lips are slightly swollen, definitely a pinch redder than before, and Zhongli realises he's gone a bit far. Unwillingly, he pulls away, once again fluffing the pillows for him and lying his head onto them, pulling the covers over him before stepping aside, a tender look cast to him before he turns away, stepping out of Childe's home with a sinking feeling, knowing that the next time they meet, they will not be allies, but foes on the battleground.
Childe, Tartaglia…No. Ajax. I'm sorry. You might hate me after, but I hope you'll at least understand why I did this.
—
Childe wakes up to…nothing. No soreness, no pain, no anything. This sets him on edge. After all, he did have a fight using his Foul Legacy after all. He pushes the blankets away, the thought of whoever tucked him into bed lost as he looks down. There, in all its glory, a glowing tattoo of a Geo Sigil, fading away before his eyes. But Childe doesn't stop to think, knowing he has to go to work. After all, not showing up to work in Northland bank the day after the Osial incident would put him in the spotlight, right? He groans, heading to the washroom to brush his teeth. He grabs his toothbrush, squeezing some of the toothpaste onto it before looking up at the mirror. Something instantly catches his eye, the swollen pink tint of his lips a contrast to his usual paleness. Well, he is generally pale, but his complexion seems different. Glowing, even, with the eye bags gone and his eyes open a bit wider, more alert than before.
Is that lipstick? Wait, no, that's stupid. But why are my lips kinda pink, then? And swollen, too.
Childe thinks to himself before shrugging, pushing his toothbrush into his mouth, the minty toothpaste a bit too refreshing for his liking, but he's used to it. Same routine, one after another, as he gets himself dressed. That red, silk scarf finds its place around his neck, bringing him a sense of comfort. He adjusts the lapels on his familiar, gray coat, and that mask sits in place above his head. But something seems to be missing. Opening his drawer of prized possessions, he finds a box of earrings, taking one and reaching for his ear, poking and prodding at his earlobe before finding the pierced hole, pushing it in.
"This pair is exquisite. May I ask where you bought these from?"
"Ah, these things? A parting gift from my family in Snezhnaya! What are the origins of yours, Zhongli-xiansheng?"
"Similar to yours. A gift from an old friend. Though she has long passed."
"Huh? Really? Well, in that case, let's trade!"
"What?"
"You gimme one of yours, and I'll give you mine! So you can remember me when I'm gone!"
"I'm sure that's not necessary, Childe."
"I know it's not, but I want to! Hey, what's the long face for, it's not like I'm gonna die on you in the near future!"
"But you will, eventually."
"Not so soon! You really think I'm weak enough to be killed so young? And stop trying to distract me, we're trading and that's final!"
"If you insist. You mortals sure are curious beings."
"Zhongli, you speak as if you're not mortal at all! Old man."
Shit. Childe looks down, seeing the other earring being the one he had traded with Zhongli, after a meal at Third-Round Knockout. He remembered the heavyhearted look in the usually regal and calm man's eyes when he mentioned his death. That was something he would not have expected from Zhongli, especially since he never seems to show any emotion apart from the occasional smile when he goes on about those long tangents. His heart sinks a little, imagining Zhongli's face when he learns of his betrayal. What will he think? Will he still see Childe as his friend and confidant, or will he shun him, like many others in the past? And once again, a tear falls past his eyelids, rolling down his cheek and lands on the carpeted floor.
This is bullshit. Childe, get yourself together. Crying will do nothing. Act casual.
He sniffles, putting on Zhongli's earring before grabbing his pouch of Mora. He has to play normal, like nothing happened and he's just as shocked about the Osial incident. And with a deep breath, he steps out of his apartment, praying to the Tsaritsa that Zhongli is willing to accept him even after the harm he put Liyue through.
—
Hair tied in that same old ponytail, check. Fancy gloves on, check. Unnecessarily pigmented red eyeliner, check. Zhongli is wide awake from his erratic sleep, having given up resting after a while. Instead, he stares at the various trinkets around his house, each one holding a different yet equally comforting memory. His hand brushes across an intricate vase, decorated with blue ink and a beautiful drawing of Rex Lapis.
"Zhongli-sensei, I know that look. You want it, don't you?" Childe narrows his eyes playfully, nudging Zhongli's arm as he is snapped out of his trance, moving his gaze away from the beautiful vase in front of him. And as much as he hates to admit it, the diplomat is right, that vase would be a beautiful addition to his apartment.
"Well…I kind of do." Zhongli mutters under his breath, making Childe chuckle before he pulls out his pouch of Mora.
"It's on me. You don't owe me anything, since I know you don't have the money to pay me back, even if you work for the rest of your lifetime." He involuntarily shuddered at the thought of having to work every day to pay the boy back. After all, he did retire from being an Archon for a reason, but…well, Childe doesn't know.
"I suppose. Thank you, Childe."
"No need to thank me! You've been such a wonderful tour guide, after all, I don't know how many times I've gotten lost at this rate! I probably would not have made it back home for at least a week when I got lost in that cave in Mount Aocang!" Childe grins sheepishly, adjusting his scarf before turning to the merchant, handing him the pouch of Mora in exchange for the vase.
"Here you go! Enjoy your gift, Zhongli-xiansheng!"
This is getting ridiculous. He's been looking at his prized possessions for at least three hours now, since daybreak, in fact. Zhongli sighs, turning away and hoping to go read a book when something catches his eye. The pair of dragon-phoenix chopsticks, matching with Childe. He remembers it all, that glint in the younger's eyes when Zhongli accepted his gift, a warm smile gracing his face.
"Zhongli! I got you a gift!" Childe waltzes in one day into Three-Round Knockout, holding two small wooden boxes. He raises his eyebrow, curiosity getting the best of him as he puts down the steaming cup of tea (that he burned his tongue on, but he wants to look nonchalant in front of Childe) and gives Childe his full attention. It seems special, from the way Childe is bouncing excitably, his eyes filled with jubilance.
"What is it? You have got me quite intrigued now." He nods politely, holding back a smile as Childe, delighted, plops down rather ungracefully next to him. He seems more eager than usual, slightly out of breath as his Hydro vision swings by his hip. Clearly, this boy had run a long way for this.
"Well, one of these is for me! After all, when I asked the nice shopkeeper lady, she said this gift holds the most sentimentality when it's a pair." And before Zhongli can ask where he got it from, Childe hands him the box. He wants to wait, especially since he knows it's rude to open gifts in front of the giver, but Childe only pouts when he voices that thought.
"No, no, I wanna see Zhongli-sensei's reaction! After all, she said it held a lot of traditional value to people in Liyue, I wanna see how you interpret it!" He gives him those irresistible doe-eyes, practically pleading for him to open it. Knowing he can't refuse, Zhongli opens the box.
Lying inside the intricate wood is a pair of chopsticks. The craftsmanship is exquisite, but that's not what catches his eye. No, it's the golden dragon on one, and the phoenix on the other. Zhongli's breath hitches, his heart beating faster and faster until it feels like he's going into overdrive, feeling light-headed and woozy from joy. Childe, despite having been the one to propose, does not react in the slightest, apart from that smile on his face that cracks Zhongli's once stone-hard heart.
"So? You like it?" Childe looks up at him with hope, and Zhongli nods, unable to say anything else. The emotions overwhelm him, and he wants to do nothing more than pull his new spouse into his lap and smother him with all the love he can possibly give.
"It's wonderful. I'm quite thankful for it. Though do you know the symbolism of these?" He asks, because knowing him, he is the type to spend loads of Mora and not even know what he bought. Sure enough, Childe averts his gaze, chuckling sheepishly.
"Um…well, I can't say I do. Tell me about—ooh, look, our meal's here!" The waiter comes, holding a bowl of Zhongli's favourite Black-Perch Stew and saving the man from the embarrassment of having to explain the Liyuen custom to his dear diplomat. One dish is served after another, and Childe doesn't hesitate to slide out his pair of new chopsticks, fumbling a bit as he struggles with the chopsticks. Zhongli can't help but laugh a little at the sight, making him pout and give him a glare, clearly not appreciating Zhongli's will to stay sitting and watch him struggle with the utensils. The sight is endearing, if he does say so himself, still grappling with the art of using chopsticks despite having been in Liyue for a while now.
"Hey! Don't just sit there, help me out!" He huffs, finally giving up, and Zhongli hides his smile behind a cough, thoroughly entertained.
"If you insist. I'm surprised that your fight against these chopsticks is still going on." The Snezhnayan's cheeks redden at his little quip, and he gives him a light smack against the shoulder. Zhongli pays it no mind, after all, it doesn't hurt, and helps him adjust his grip on the utensils, reaching over and picking up one of the Jade Parcels and bringing it to his plate.
"Well, thanks. That little jab was totally unnecessary though, Xiansheng." He gives the taller man a side-eye before putting the Jade Parcel into his mouth, letting out a little whimper when the still-hot dish touches his tongue. Zhongli, perceptive as ever, immediately stands and shoves a cup of iced water to him.
"Be careful, it's still hot." He says, his worried gaze not leaving him until he swallows his piece, taking the glass and taking a sip.
"I'll be fine, a little burn on the tongue isn't gonna stop anyone. You should eat something, too, y'know. You're making me feel bad, stuffing my face where you've barely had a bite." Childe pouts, his cheeks puffing just a little. Simply adorable, Zhongli thinks, but he dares not say out loud.
"I see. Well, in that case, let's dig in." Zhongli smiles, sitting back down onto his seat and reaching for the pair of chopsticks that the restaurant supplies, jumping slightly when Childe clasps his hand against his own.
"No. Use the ones I gave you. So we can match." He mutters, and with that look in his eyes, Zhongli can't possibly say no. He retracts his hand, taking the wooden box and sliding out the proposal chopsticks the man opposite him has given. His eyes glaze over, his heart pumping a little faster as he reaches for his cup of tea with his other hand. He sees Childe's gaze soften opposite him, watching as he takes his own cup and the teapot, pouring himself some tea into his cup as well. Childe's nose wrinkles slightly at the scent, after all, he has never been a big fan of tea, especially since alcohol is better, in his opinion, but for the Liyuen consultant opposite him, he makes an exception. So mimicking Zhongli's action, he holds his cup high.
"Let's stay like this, Xiansheng. I quite like working with you. To a successful future." The Snezhnayan says, waiting for Zhongli to say something of his own. And he does.
"To a bright future, which doesn't have to be successful, but has to be with you."
He remembers all of it. The way his new spouse's eyes widened at his words, the laughter, the teasing expression when he called him a sap. But it was true, especially now. How would he react to the news? Would Childe still be willing to forgive him? He must be, if he'd been willing to propose to him. Still, dread pools into his stomach, the thought of having to admit to the lies to his beloved making him feel something strange. Was it fear? Zhongli had not felt this before. He does faintly remember the sensation, though, back when he still went by Morax, fighting against deities when he was but just a young god with a heavy bloodlust.
Whatever. He cannot allow his mind to dwell on such silly matters. He knows in his heart that this will not end well, so instead, he pushes the thought away, instead heading towards the living room and picking up the book he's been reading.
"Reading again, Xiansheng?"
"Yeah. Is there something you need?"
"Duh! Why are you wasting all your attention on that book?"
"It's interesting."
"And I'm not?"
"I never said that."
"Oh, how you wound me, am I that boring to you, Zhongli-xiansheng? And here I thought that I at least brought you some sort of entertainment. Don't play dumb, I know you find me dull and boring and unpleasant…hey, Zhongli, that was a joke, don't glare at me like that! You really think I was being serious?"
"Yes."
"Cute."
The book in his hands slams shut, and he sits up. This will not do. He sighs, walking to the bookshelf and sliding his text back inside before looking at the clock. 10:30 AM. It's time. He strides towards the front door, taking off his slippers and replacing them with his usual boots.
"Xiansheng, don't forget your wallet! And your keys!"
Right, wallet. He walks towards the sofa once again, picking up his wallet and house keys before finally stepping out of his house, each step heavy as he makes his way to Northland Bank.
—
Childe was expecting a normal day at most. Meet up with Zhongli as usual, have lunch at Wanmin Restaurant as usual, and continue to hide the fact that he was the perpetrator for the disaster that struck only a day ago. But all his plans are crushed as he swings open the front doors of Northland Bank, ready for another peaceful day of work, only to see Zhongli, beautiful, gentle, Zhongli, standing next to probably the biggest bitch he'd ever known in his whole existence.
"Signora. Get out of my workplace. And don't you take another step closer to Zhongli-xiansheng." He snarls, making Signora laugh haughtily, not deterred in the slightest.
"Oh? Why, what an endearment you have here. Have you not told him, Rex Lapis?" She sneers at Zhongli, the impact of the words hitting Childe a few seconds after. Rex Lapis. The Archon that he had planned to take from, and the man who made his heart speed up, that made his breath catch every time they were near each other, were the same person. Fresh hurt ripped his heart open, like a wound reopened as his only confidant in the whole of Liyue said nothing, only staring straight ahead like he wasn't even there.
"I suppose he knows now. Childe, please, I didn't want to hide it from you, but you must understand. Contracts are something that I would uphold, after all." Zhongli says, reaching out and trying to reach for his gloves, wanting to hold onto him, but the Snezhnayan retracts his hand, almost like Zhongli's touch was death, and he was avoiding it at all costs. Instead, he steps back, one step, and then another, muttering to himself as he looks up towards the ceiling, one tear after another rolling out.
"How could I have been so stupid? All the signs were there. Guess I really must be stupid, to have missed all that, isn't that right, Zhongli—or, should I say, Morax?" He says with subtle aggression. One would certainly be dense to have missed the hurt in his tone.
"Oh, look, how troublesome. Though I'm not interested, you two can sort out your little lover's quarrel later. Rex Lapis, your Gnosis. Hand it over." Signora's lip curls with contempt, holding her hand out. Zhongli sighs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what Childe had been wanting for so long—the Gnosis of the Geo Archon. But the excitement he thought he'd feel when he saw the Gnosis was replaced with anguish, torment, and worst of all, the pain of betrayal.
"Consider our lunch together cancelled." Childe says, dipping his head down to meet that set of blazing Cor Lapis which were Zhongli's eyes as Signora takes her leave, the Gnosis in hand, and leaving the two of them to talk.
"Childe…no, Ajax. Please, you have to listen to me." The second the door closes and it's just the two of them, Zhongli's normally stoic and composed mask falls for the first time ever, his desperation obvious in every possible way.
"Well, since you used my real name now, I can't refuse, can I? Though I'm warning you, nothing you say at this point will change my mind." Now it was Childe's turn to put on a mask, his lips curling as he watches the ex-Archon before him slowly crumble apart.
"It was in the contract. You were meant to give Liyue a challenge, and if they could survive it without my help, then I would've given the Fatui my Gnosis. But if they failed to protect the city to a certain extent, I keep my Gnosis. So, really…your release of Osial was part of the test. That's why I'm not at all mad about you freeing Osial." Zhongli breathes out, slightly panting from saying all that in one breath, though if he was to be true to himself, his future with Childe was bleak, and he wanted to salvage it. Though, clearly, it didn't satisfy the ginger. Instead, he only frowns, his fists clenching as that flimsy mask he had put over his true emotions crumbled to pieces.
"So I was only ever a pawn to you, eh, Xiansheng? If only I had known, maybe I wouldn't have cared so much about you." Childe spits, his tone full of venom, so much that Zhongli stepped back, a hint of hesitation in his eyes at Childe's menacing tone. Still, he finds it in himself to speak back.
"No, no, please. I do care, I really do, I just…couldn't find a way to tell you." Zhongli chokes out, his voice cracking as Childe turns away, anger etched into his features.
"Whatever. We're done here, Morax." He storms out of the building, fury making him irrational as he leaves, deserting Zhongli, the front door to the building slamming behind him, the wood shattering with the strength of his movement, the ex-Archon's heart stone heart finally shattering after millions of years.
—
Family photo, in. Spare clothes, in. Fatui coat…Childe hesitates as he holds the fur in his hand, before finally folding it up and shoving it into his suitcase. That can go too. Turning around, he scans his apartment, once full of joy and laughter, now empty and devoid of emotion. He had originally decided to leave the gifts Zhongli had wanted to give him (which he had bought with his own money in the end) in Liyue, but had eventually decided against it. Despite the anger he felt at Zhongli, he couldn't bear to leave it behind. After all, gifts were still gifts, right?
"Do you like it?"
"Like what?"
"Dancing."
"Well, yeah! Who doesn't like dancing? It's such a fun thing to do—ow!"
Childe stares at the wall, remembering how he had stumbled, half drunk, and hit his head on the wall. He remembered it so vividly.
"Childe! Are you…okay, you're fine, no need to cling." Zhongli's gaze left his face to look sideways as Childe cuddled him closer, liking how warm he was. The man's face was slightly red too, was he drunk as well?
"But Zhongli-xiansheng is so hot! And I'm very cold…it's like Snezhnaya all over again!" Childe pouts indignantly, and Zhongli, realising he has nowhere to go, sighs and gives up on trying to pry the younger man away.
Childe sighs, running his hand through his hair. How could he have been so naïve, to trust…love him with all his heart? Maybe Scaramouche was right, he did always wear his heart on his sleeve.
The now-empty apartment was mocking him, reminding him of all those memories that he once had and wouldn't let himself have again, thanks to his stubbornness and need to keep at least some of his pride. His suitcase stuffed to the brim and heart heavy in his chest, Childe opens the front door, leaving the keys outside the doorstep for the landlord to recollect later as he finally leaves his apartment, one step closer to putting Liyue in the past and moving forwards to Zapolyarny Palace, his true home.
—