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In the dim light filtering through their bedroom window, Ajax looked beautiful.
It is not a new realization, nor was it a realization at all– he had always known that his lover's beauty was a fact, something he had always been aware of, even before he realized he was in love with the reckless mortal.
Over the years, Zhongli has learned to see the beauty in things, in people– has learned to see that beauty goes beyond, that beauty is not always obvious like the most polished brooch in the market or the winner of a beauty contest, that beauty can be found in things like uncut jewels or people who hide their faces under scarves.
He finds Ajax to be one of the most beautiful people he has ever seen– he is not Guizhong, never will be, but Guizhong could never be him as well, because they are both beautiful in their own ways, and should not ever be compared, because they are different, and that is good.
Zhongli has also learned that Ajax looks most beautiful under the sun– has learned that his hair can turn a blazing, fiery gold and red shade in the light of the most potent light source in the universe, has learned that his eyes can look like they shine when he looks towards the sky, and that his lover's smile when seeing the sea cannot compete with anything else, because Ajax's smile is the most beautiful and precious thing in the world.
Even now, with Ajax sleeping away in their bed (their bed), the light of the cold morning reaching in and touching, caressing his face gently like a lover, Zhongli thinks he is beautiful.
He reaches forward, hand placing gently on his lover's face, and sweetly, softly, rubbing slow, nonsensical circles into his pale skin. Ajax stirs in his sleep, always the sensitive one even as a heavy sleeper, murmuring something inaudible before his features smoothen and his red eyelashes flutter to rest against the tops of his cheekbones.
I love you.
He whispered those very words, leaning in close to place the barest of kisses against his Ajax's forehead.
With this mortal, this man, he could be anyone without fail. He could be Morax, the archaic dragon that survived and fought countless wars, or Rex Lapis, the God of Contracts and Commerce who gave punishment as he saw fit and watched Liyue grow from a tiny little village to a bustling harbor, or simply Zhongli, the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, an enigma even amongst the local detective kids and age-old sailors in town.
This man, who managed to capture his heart and hold it confidently between his hands, daring Zhongli to come closer and take it back, as if he would ever dare to do so in the first place. This man, who looked at him and smiled and told him “You are you, xiansheng. Isn't that enough?” and continued to walk with him for the rest of the day, as if he wasn't an archaic dragon who sealed gods and created mountains with a snap of his tail, as if he wasn't the oldest Archon who oversaw everything that happened in beautiful Liyue and signed contracts like they were heartsworn oaths.
As if he was just Zhongli, a man who loved another man called Ajax, and who traveled the world with his hand in his own, and nothing more.
It was dawn. It was daybreak.
Ajax's eyes fluttered open as pale light turned yellow.
It was home.
“Good morning, Ajax.”
FIN.