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Chapter Text

Childe always hated Zhongli, whether it was his impassive face or his subtle jabs masked as blunt statements of facts.

Zhongli, Zhongli, Childe thought. Fuming with righteous anger.

It was always Zhongli.

“Childe,” Zhongli called. Not a hint of mocking to be found in his impassive voice, but Childe still felt mocked nevertheless.

This, Childe thought, was precisely why he hated Zhongli.

“What,” Childe replied, half gnashing his teeth.

“Your new title suits you,” Zhongli said, glancing at Childe. His gaze pointedly emphasizing the marginal gap in height between them.

“Thanks,” Childe replied casually, knowing for sure that there was a hidden insult lurking somewhere.

“Mhm, Childe,” Zhongli spoke again. Enunciating Childe’s new title loud and clear. “Childe.”

This, Childe thought, was precisely why he hated Zhongli.

“I’m not a child,” Childe spat, his arms crossed frigidly.

Zhongli tilted his head marginally. “But you are one?”

Fuck you, Childe thought. Wondering if he could just murder the man in front of him now and enact some sort of ‘Tsarisa, please, I am technically the youngest child in this weird Fatui family so can I please have that get out of jail free card for fratricide that all youngest children have.’

“You cannot,” Zhongli said pointedly, somehow. Another point for Childe’s theory that Zhongli was secretly a mind reader and thus knows top secrets and thus must be eliminated.

A theory that was still given only a dead staredown by the Tsaritsa but was becoming more promising by the second, Childe swears.

“I will,” Childe replied, very, very truthfully.

Zhongli took a moment to process his words. As though calculating for the probabilities- that fucking nerd- that Childe would actually try to do such actions.

“99% chance that I will,” Childe said, just to make Zhongli’s nonexistent brain have to work less.

After a moment of deliberation, Zhongli nodded. “If you say so.”

His face was stupidly impassive as he nodded, as though he were humoring a child.

I suppose I am a Childe, now, his brain unhelpfully inputted

Childe almost waved an arm to dismiss their thoughts but knowing that it would not, he merely grumbled instead.

“Is there something bothering you?” Zhongli asked, obviously having heard the grumble.

You, Childe thought, and said as much.

Zhongli gave an odd pause, like a gear in the intricate machine that was Zhongli somehow went loose or had an error.

Would serve the bastard right, Childe thought. But walked up to Zhongli slightly because what if he would be blamed for the machine breaking?

“What is it,” Childe asked, his voice carrying a note of his previous grumblings. Lacking the harshness and sharpness that he would’ve liked to address Zhongli.

Zhongli’s pause continued on for a moment longer, making Childe wonder if the Zhongli machine really broke.

Childe promptly decided that he should probably make a testimonial that Zhongli broke all by himself and that Childe was halfway across the continent when it happened.

A good enough alibi, if Childe thinks so himself- which he did.

“Bold,” Zhongli replied quietly. Almost lost in the space between them as his gaze bore into Childe’s. A hint- hint- of a smile wounding itself up upon Zhongli’s lips.

Childe makes a valiant effort to make a sound. Buried, though, it was. By the sound of Childe’s heart. Beating with all the fuel of his intense hatred of Zhongli.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” Childe grumbled, glancing away as he forcefully stuffed his hands inside his pockets. “Throw away my concern out the window just like that, why don’t you.”

“Not that I was concerned for you,” Childe protested valiantly, having realized what he said. “It was more for my own safety and the Fatui, you know.”

Zhongli stared at him. A ‘go on’ gesture directed at him.

“‘Cause what if you really …” Broke, Childe thought. But finding the idea ridiculous to verbalize. Zhongli wasn’t some ruin guardian with gears and screws for a body. “Became dumb forever.” Sounds more accurate. “That’s a brain gone from the Fatui, and that wouldn’t be good- for- for the Fatui.”

Zhongli hummed in response to Childe’s not very heartfelt explanation.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” Zhongli parrotted back. His voice a sly thing.

Childe clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What else do you want me to say?”

“Why were you concerned?” Zhongli asked simply.

“Why?”

“I fall silent often enough, this wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last, so why the concern?” Zhongli asked, his voice akin to a silent rustle of a turned page.

“You should really fix that habit of yours,” Childe said, clicking his tongue again in annoyance. “Makes you easy to attack.”

“Do you truly think so?” Zhongli pondered, tilting his head slightly.

“Yup, really,” Childe said, nodding. “Leaving the mortal world at least ten times a day isn’t quite the gold standard for harbingers.”

Zhongli titled his head to the other side slightly, a gesture that made his bangs fall in a way that Childe itched to fix.

“Ten?”

“Five around me and probably five elsewhere, too,” Childe pointed out, nodding to himself.

A sly glint took over Zhongli’s eyes at that moment. His lips twitching and his gaze was as though he knew something that Childe didn’t.

“What.”

“You can be assured,” Zhongli said quietly. “That I only fall into a reverie where I am safe.”

Childe scowls, wondering what that was supposed to mean. “That Oceanid fight wasn’t very safe.”

Zhongli lips quirked up slightly, a hint of a smile and he did not deign him with a response.

“No, but really, I had to stand there and listen to that Oceanid and fight its animal friends for like five minutes before you deigned to raise your lance,” Childe said. “While ten water birds went at your shield.”

Zhongli continued to stare, his lips quirked up further.

“So- it was pretty damn not safe.”

Zhongli, once again, did not deign Childe with a response.

“And that ruin guard, too,” Childe pointed out. “It was really hacking at your shield there.”

Zhongli raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I know I shot it down in like ten seconds, but still,” Childe said. Wondering if he could knock some sense into Zhongli’s head.

His fucking geo shields would stop any sense from passing through, though.

“And the fucking geo cube,” Childe continued. “With its mini earthquakes.”

Zhongli nodded.

“While you stood there like a lost geo slime with your shield,” Childe recounted.

“Geo slimes are cute,” Zhongli said, apropos of nothing.

“They are,” Childe acknowledged. “But that was pretty damn not safe situations, Zhongli.”

Zhongli exhales softly, his version of a laugh as his lips quirked up further. “Geo slimes are cute.”

“They are,” Childe acknowledged again. “That still doesn’t-”

Zhongli smiled, then, as all words left Childe’s throat. “My words remain true.”

This time, it was Childe’s turn to not say a thing- because his throat got clogged.

“That still doesn’t answer the question of why,” Zhongli continued. “Why would a simple reverie made you so worried this time.”

“... just thought maybe you were sick,” Childe said quietly. Trying to stuff his hands further in his pockets.

Zhongli didn’t say anything, and they were once again back to the status quo.

“It would be stupid for you to get sick because of the Oceanid,” Childe said. “With the rain.”

Zhongli continued to stare.

“Especially since you didn’t have to fight it with me,” Childe continued. “I was fine.”

Zhongli’s eyes curved up slightly then.

“I wanted to,” Zhongli said.

Childe blinked. “What?”

Zhongli seemed to be laughing with his eyes as he smiled slightly.

“I have a cute hydro slime to raise.”

Chapter Text

“You,” Childe said, his voice flat.

“Me,” Zhongli replied easily, nodding. “It is a pleasure to see you, Childe.”

“Can’t say the same,” Childe replied bluntly. To which Zhongli only gave a small hum and his eyes once again having that knowing glint.

As though he were once again possessing some knowledge that Childe didn’t. The mere thought of it making Childe grumble quietly.

“Then, I’ll leave,” Zhongli said simply, turning straight around.

Childe blinked as Zhongli walked away with his usual poised strut.

It wasn’t a mere moment later before Childe grabbed onto Zhongli’s arm.

Zhongli paused in his steps then, a smooth transition.

Almost too smooth.

“Yes?” Zhongli spoke, turning to face Childe.

“Rude,” Childe blurted. “Running off like that, how very Zhongli of you.”

Zhongli tilted his head slightly, his lips curving up by the barest of margin. “I would assume my actions would reflect me, yes.”

“Well, that was rude,” Childe said. “Aren’t you all about etiquette, or whatever?”

“I am, indeed, about etiquette, or whatever,” Zhongli said, although his tone was polite, Childe felt the familiar sting of ‘you are currently being insulted by Zhongli’ sliding down his back.

“You’re mocking me, too,” Childe said bluntly. “Double rude.”

“I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Zhongli said, the sly glint in his eyes saying otherwise.

“You do,” Childe said, quite confident in his reply. “Have an idea, that is.”

“Well, I’d say I was being polite,” Zhongli said calmly. “You wanted me to leave in the first place, no?”

“I didn’t say that,” Childe said quickly. Feeling slightly wronged.

“That wasn’t the exact wording, no.” Zhongli adjusted Childe’s scarf slightly. “But you did express a displeasure at seeing me.”

Childe sputtered slightly.

“Am I wrong?” Zhongli asked. Almost like a checkmate.

Almost like he won or something.

Which wouldn’t do, Childe thought and his fighting spirit came back once more. Thankfully covering up the part of him that was sputtering.

“You are, definitely wrong,” Childe said confidently, not exactly sure where said confidence came from. But nonetheless confident.

Zhongli quirked an eyebrow, a sign that meant that Childe should definitely forge forward.

“I just said that it wasn’t a pleasure to meet you, not that I wanted you gone,” Childe argued. Zhongli humming noncommittally as he adjusted Childe’s scarf once more. His eyes discerning, as though he was doing something greater than just finding how to make Childe’s scarf look neat and professional.

“It just wasn’t a pleasure not- not that it wasn’t pleasant,” Childe continued, finding that his tongue got looser the more he observed Zhongli’s deft fingers. “Not that it was really pleasant but it wasn’t not not pleasant.”

Childe harrumphed then, pleased with himself for his explanation.

Zhongli makes a soft exhale, his lips twitching slightly.

“What’s so funny?” Childe squinted, hearing the telltale sign of Zhongli’s laughter being muffled.

“I’m glad to hear that you don’t find it not not not nice to see me then,” Zhongli drawled, putting a slight emphasis on the ‘not’ within his words.

Childe merely grunted, his brain not quite warmed up to understand all the 'nots' within that sentence. “Exactly, so you were rude, there. For leaving just like that.”

“I suppose,” Zhongli acknowledged, his head dipping slightly in a small nod.

Childe puffed out his chest slightly in the marvel of the victory.

“What shall you do to me then?” Zhongli queried. Tilting his head slightly, in a gesture that was all too familiar to Childe.

“Wha- oh- for you being rude?” Childe asked, somewhat grasping at what Zhongli was hinting at.

“For me being rude,” Zhongli nodded, his voice almost sly.

“Well, Zhongli,” Childe said, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. “I guess since you’ve been so rude, you ought to make it up to me by making me more Mr. Cyclops. It’s your penalty for being rude, after all.”

Zhongli laughed softly before replying without missing a beat. “Size?”

Childe nodded. “Same as last time.”

Zhongli smiled easily as he nodded. “Very well, Childe.”

Childe scratched the back of his nape awkwardly for a moment.

“... Teucer said that it was cool,” Childe said, a proud tone to his voice. “So thanks.”

Zhongli smiled again, a touch too gentle. “Ah, I see.”

“I would appreciate it if you could tell Teucer that I was quite happy to make it for him,” Zhongli continued, his smile staying alive. “And I would appreciate it if you could tell Teucer’s toymaker brother that I wouldn’t mind making it for free and not out of a penalty.”

Childe, once more, sputtered as he loosened his grip on Zhongli’s arm.

Zhongli then weaseled his way out of Childe’s grip entirely as he laughed, turning around, as though to leave.

“Hey- hey-” Childe called, grasping onto a distraction in lieu of Zhongli’s arm. “Why did you come here in the first place?”

Zhongli turned to face Childe slightly. His hair basked in warm light as his eyes almost glowed as it did soften.

“To be rude,” Zhongli said, his voice as sly as his smile.

Chapter Text

The first time they met, Zhongli was smaller than him.

The way he clung onto his polearm reeked of desperation and Childe couldn’t help but cajole him.

A grin that was all too not-child, something he couldn’t help- not anymore, not after, after.

“Scared?” he said, his words like barbed wires. Softened by his high-pitched voice.

The other boy stared back, apparently not too impressed with Childe’s comment. His demeanor unflappable but there was a slight twitch in his fingers, a slight shift in his stance.

Childe- before he was Childe, before he was a somebody- smirked back. Or at least tried to.

The other boy stared at him. His eyes having a luster that he- Ajax, that’s right- just Ajax- didn’t have anymore. Lost in the abyss. Replaced by callous hands and sharp blades.

“No,” the boy replied simply. His tone was even and his voice smooth.

“Are you sure about that?” he had prodded, biting at any chance of a weakness.

The boy nodded. Simple as anything.

“Are you sure, sure about that?” he had asked again.

The boy stared at him before nodding slowly again.

“Are you sure, sure, sure about that?”

“Is this an attempt at bullying?” the boy asked, his brows scrunching up. “If that’s so, you’re not doing a good job at it.”

Ajax sputtered. “What?”

The boy stared at him, utterly nonplussed. The kind of look that his parents would give to him and his siblings. Like when his younger siblings drew on the wall or something.

It was kind of insulting.

No, it was really insulting.

“I’m not a bully,” Ajax said brutishly.

“Are you sure about that?” the boy asked. His eyes less like rocks and more like cliffs.

Ajax hated climbing cliffs.

“I’m sure,” Ajax replied with a pointed glare.

“Are you sure, sure about that?” the boy asked. Leaning on his polearm further.

“I’m sure,” Ajax repeated, glaring further.

“Are you sure, sure-”

“I’m sure!” Ajax interrupted at last.

The boy did nothing but curve his lips. An utter mockery of a smile, and said, “Are you sure, sure, sure, sure about that?”

“I’m sure, sure-”

Ajax was later reprimanded by their drill instructor that day, and he knew that he hated that boy.

Childe was snapped out of his nap by a rustle of leaves.

He glanced up at the intruder, only to see that it was Zhongli reading a book. Leaning against the wilting tree.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Entirely awake.

“Reading,” Zhongli replied.

“I can see that,” Childe pointed out, refolding his arms beneath his head.

“So you can,” Zhongli acknowledged. “Good.”

A light breeze fluttered through, Childe watching his scarf coasting on it with idle interest. “That’s what sucks about having long hair, huh.”

Zhongli stared down at him.

Childe gestured at Zhongli’s locks, caught by the wind. “That’s a weakness.”

Zhongli raised an eyebrow.

“It totally is,” Childe argued. “I could just grab it like-” He grabbed Zhongli’s hair. “This. And then boom, you’re incapacitated.”

“This is bullying,” Zhongli said. Flipping to another page.

“Oh, come on,” Childe bemoaned. “I thought you got over that.”

Zhongli stared at Childe. “Bullying is never a bygone.”

Childe rolled his eyes. “What are you gonna do, sic the Tsaritsa on me?”

“Worse yet,” Zhongli replied gravely. “I’ll sic Teucer on you.”

Childe dropped Zhongli’s hair. Zhongli gave him a stare of victory and Childe was very tempted to grab Zhongli’s hair once more.

“This isn’t bullying, though,” Childe insisted petulantly.

“What is it then?” Zhongli sounded weirdly indulgent.

Weird, because Zhongli didn’t do indulgent

Unless he wanted something.

“Nothing.” And Childe was not about to give whatever Zhongli wanted.

And what Zhongli usually wanted involved Childe making a fool of himself. And Childe often did that through purely existing.

No, Childe wasn’t a fool- he just happened to say foolish words while being around Zhongli. That was all.

“Ah, well.” Zhongli seemd amused, nonetheless, at his lack of a clear answer. “I just happened to think about something, that’s all.”

Childe grunted. A clear sign of his interest.

“But I’m not sure you’d like to hear me ramble.” Zhongli cracked open his book.

Zhongli began to read.

The sense of intrigue was killing Childe.

Childe grunted again.

“Are you thirsty, Childe?”

Childe scoffed, watching his scarf fly in the wind.

“C’mon that’s underhanded of you,” Childe pointed out. “To get me to speak like this.”

“Ah, I would do no such thing.” Zhongli played with the grayed edges of the old book. “I am quite an honorable man, so they say.”

“Yeah? Well they don’t know you,” Childe scoffed.

Zhongli hummed, an obvious invitation to speak further.

A part of Childe wanted to be petty and not elaborate any further. Just like Zhongli always does. Pull a, ‘How does that feel?’ and maybe see Zhongli be the flustered one for once.

It was a nice thought.

Alas, Childe’s mouth couldn’t keep itself shut at the opportunity to trash talk Zhongli.

“They think you’re all polite and… all that,” Childe said, moving a hand from beneath his head to wave at Zhongli’s figure. “All uppity and clean and organized and stuff.” Childe purposefully smeared a part of the dirt into Zhongli’s shoe. The man didn’t deign him with a response except to wipe the stain off deftly with his handkerchief. “Okay, maybe you are clean. But you certainly aren’t honorable.”

“How so?” Another flip of the page, another pretentious question.

“You told on me to Teucer.” Childe would like to pretend that there wasn’t a whine somewhere behind his words.

“It was well deserved.”

“I didn’t think you’d stoop that low.” Childe would also like to pretend that there was actually some spite behind those words.

“I rather think it was justice.” Zhongli squinted slightly at the pages. Childe had half a mind to poke in between Zhongli’s brows. Zhongli hummed softly, unfazed by the touch.

“Boom, you’re dead,” Childe said. “See? Another demonstration.”

“Really now,” Zhongli replied. Taking Childe’s hand away from his forehead. “Why so?”

“If a sword got you there, you’d be dead.” Childe also pretended not to feel how warm Zhongli’s hand was.

Zhongli tapped Childe’s cheeks. “Boom.”

Childe blinked. “That doesn’t count.”

Zhongli poked Childe’s other cheek.

“Okay, okay, whatever,” Childe said, shooing Zhongl’s hand away. “You proved your point.”

Smugness didn’t exactly eminate from Zhongli, no, it fucking eminated from him.

Childe yanked on Zhongli’s annoyingly smug ponytail.

Zhongli stared down at him, and Childe could already hear Teucer’s chidings in his ears.

“Well, uh,” Childe tried to divert the subject. Hopefully enough to get Zhongli to forget the fact that he could sic Teucer on him right about now. “What were you about to ramble about earlier?”

Zhongli smiled then, it looked like victory.

“Ah, I remember now. Tugging on a girl’s pigtails to get her attention.” Zhongli glanced away from his book and down at Childe. “That’s what the other recruits said you were doing back in the day.” Childe’s hand around Zhongli’s ponytail felt ever the more damning.

Childe would rather Teucer be sicced on him right now, actually.

Chapter Text

I want to murder a man, Childe thought.

No, I will murder a man, Childe fixed as he remembered the manifestation presentation the Tsaritsa had them sit through.

Whether it was for actual knowledge or punishment was up to anyone’s guess.

He certainly remembered a certain harbinger skipping out, though. And not getting much in the way of reprimand for it.

Childe added that as another reason why Zhongli could be justifiably murdered.

The Tsaritsa would probably ground him for a month. Zhongli being her favorite middle child.

But, there lies Childe’s advantage in being the proverbial youngest child.

So Childe gave it three weeks before he could stab someone after Zhongli. Two, if she was feeling particularly generous.

“If you were wondering who grilled all your fish and octopi this morning.” Zhongli flipped a page of some Liyue book, with fancy gold letterings atop a solid black cover. As, well, like one of those old boring books for old boring people. “You should be talking to Scaramouche.”

”I knew it,” Childe hissed, filled with a desire for vengeance. Before another thought took hold of him. “Wait, didn’t I see you eating grilled fish this morning?”

Zhongli hummed, flipping through another page, colored by time.

Like the old boring traitor he was.

“How could you?” Childe asked, aghast.

“You must admit, Scaramouche is a remarkable cook.”

“He’s not,” Childe lied.

Zhongli, resident lie detector, does that faux smile of his. The one that clearly said how he knew that Childe was lying but was merely going to let Childe stew in his own humiliation.

I will murder a man, Childe manifested.

All the murdering that seems to be happening so far, though, was the murdering of Childe’s hopes and dreams that his mere intent could down Zhongli.

“Have you tried manifesting harder, Childe?” Zhongli queried. Fiddling with a corner of the book.

“Shit,” Childe said, venom dripping from his words. “I clearly haven’t tried hard enough, jeez, thanks.”

A moment passes, where Childe tried his best to manifest Zhongli’s murder into existence.

“Wait, how did you know?”

“I can read your mind.”

“Shit,” Childe repeated. “What am I thinking right now, then?”

Zhongli stared at him for a moment. A mystical kind of stare, if Childe were to label it. “Murder.”

Damn, Childe thought, impressed.

“How did you know that?” Childe asked begrudgingly. The most he could do was to acknowledge that Zhongli had indeed known what Childe was thinking.

Zhongli smiled, all mysterious and cool and goddamnit, Childe.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Childe said dismissively. Praying that Zhongli’s mind powers would just not work this once.

Goddamnit, Childe, he thought again. Keeping his back probably way too stiff in an attempt to show forced casualness.

Zhongli raised an eyebrow. All artful and graceful and all that.

Childe sort of hates that. And he said so.

Zhongli merely lifted a corner of his lips again. Determined to not change his hateful ways.

“I’m still angry at you.” Childe crossed his arms. In an effort to bring back some semblance of his original emotions. “And Scaramouche.”

“I was not the perpetrator,” Zhongli stated reasonably.

“Not just for that.”

Zhongli made a sound that was a common man’s “Oh?” but much more refined. Because he was Zhongli.

“The new mission to Liyue, I can handle it by myself.”

Zhongli nodded. “Of course.”

“I thought so, too.” Childe nodded wisely. “But see, I heard sometime this morning that a new arrangement was made.”

Zhongli, for his part, was looking remarkably unperturbed. As though what Childe was talking about didn’t relate to him at all. But, oh, it did.

Bastard, Childe cursed. And hoped that Zhongli’s mind reading powers would pick that up.

“Fascinating,” Zhongli said in a tone that indicated anything but.

It sounded like a tone a liar would use.

“Well, see, there’s more,” Childe continued. “Turns out the person that made this arrangement was a dear coworker of mine.”

Zhongli looked touched.

“Terrible coworker,” Childe corrected.

Zhongli didn’t look any less touched. Childe rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, the Tsaritsa told me that I would have to be accompanied because I couldn’t be trusted,” Childe said pointedly. “And you know who my babysitter is?”

“I wouldn’t call them a babysitter,” Zhongli corrected. An amused smile already worming itself onto his lips and Childe hates that, too.

“Yeah, well, how come you’re on this trip, too, Zhongli?” Childe asked.

“As you said, the Tsaritsa couldn’t trust you.”

“To what.” Childe refused to sound petulant.

“To not cause excessive deficit in local living organisms.”

Childe stared at Zhongli for a moment.

“You mean my stabbing impulse.”

“I do not exactly mean that but that is accurate enough, I suppose.”

“Oh, come on,” Childe bemoaned. “I love the boars. Wouldn’t harm a hair on their body.”

“We are not talking about the boars here, Childe.”

Childe knew exactly what they were talking about. But does that mean he would listen to Zhongli?

No.

“Last I knew, my ice fishing didn’t cause the extinction of the salmon or whatever.”

“We are not talking about fishes either.”

“You mean the cranes, then? Don’t like them, their thighs don’t make good drumsticks.”

Zhongli pondered the question for a moment.

“Don’t eat the cranes, Zhongli,” Childe chided.

“They’ll live,” Zhongli replied. The “for now” was heavily implied.

A strange silence lapses between them.

“So, any chances you’ll let me go to Liyue alone?”

“Ah, straight to the point.” Zhongli seemed almost impressed and Childe was definitely unamused and a tiny bit offended. “Unfortunately for you, however, I have business in Liyue.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a business,” Childe remarked. “Is it failing by any chance? Is that why you never pay for your meals?”

“I assure you, I am busy enough with my Harbinger duties,” Zhongli answered. Closing his book on botany with the finality of a busy man.

“Sure doesn’t seem that way to me.”

Volume 10, Childe read on the front cover. He was sure that there was an extra zero there since Zhongli had only checked out volume 1 the last time they went to the bookstore which was exactly two days ago.

Busy my ass, Childe thought.

“So what’s this business then, huh.”

Zhongli glanced away for a moment, a sliver of a second, then glanced back.

“A date.”

Childe tilted his head. “What date? Is there some special event happening in Liyue around that time or something?”

Zhongli smiled. Cool and handsome and goddamnit, Childe.

“I am not talking a time.”

Childe felt his throat dry up.

“Huh?”

Zhongli laughed, then. Perhaps at Childe’s face, his voice, his hair, the weather, the clouds, whatever the fuck.

“Our weekly duel, remember?”

Oh, that kind of date.

“What the fuck, Zhongli,” Childe croaked out. “You could’ve just said duel.”

“I felt date was more accurate,” Zhongli mused. “Oh, well.”

And just like that, Zhongli left, leaving Childe with a million and one question and his back.

His back was straight and his shoulders broad and goddamnit, Zhongli.

Childe definitely did not look anywhere below Zhongli’s back.

Childe resolutely tried to not think about what Zhongli’s words meant.