Chapter Text
Childe held his son in his hands for the first time eight short years ago, and ever since then he could scarcely believe his life was real.
The road to parenthood had been long and hard—Zhongli was an immortal, a race of creatures that very rarely propagates at all, and Childe's stint in the abyss had traumatized him to far-reaching lengths even he had not anticipated. The idea of bringing a child into the world the abyss might well soon devour terrified him to no end. But after years of work with Zhongli, his older siblings, and an exceptionally well-paid therapist (who was currently in the Fontaine Witness Protection Program for reasons, ironically, entirely unrelated to being a snitch), he was finally able to rise above his fears.
Having Shuo was the best decision he ever made.
Zhongli's biology was outstandingly complicated, and Childe still did not understand the nuance, but he was able to change forms and produce eggs. Childe added his own DNA to the mix, and through a long series of peculiar tasks and preparations and cravings, (by Cryo, the cravings—despite laying eggs Zhongli had a sort of spiritual link to their son, which had him chasing his husband out of the kitchen at three in the morning before he burnt down their apartment trying to satisfy a sudden need for Fullmoon Eggs stuffed with Jueyun Chilis), they managed to have a healthy biological child.
However Shuo, as they decided to call him, meaning "bountiful wealth," (a sort of manifestation that he would turn out more like his Snezhnayan father than the one who regularly forgot Mora was necessary to purchase items), was by no means a normal child. For starters he hatched out of an egg, one of several Zhongli had produced, which Childe and Zhongli cared for externally. Their eggs, biologically closest to that of a fish, floated in their guest bathtub for forty weeks straight, fascinating and gently confusing and and all who came to visit.
("We're experimenting with fish farming," Zhongli had said to all the guests who weren't in the know. Any information about the fish whatsoever was deemed a trade secret, too personal to share. He refused to explain further.)
None of the eggs survived to term but one. The strongest of them all, his baby Shuo. When the hatching period came he and Zhongli camped out in the bathroom for three days straight, obsessively watching for cracks. They were almost petrified that the babe had not survived until all at once the egg began to wiggle, setting forth tremors in the water like the premonitions of a tidal wave.
When all was said and done, the flat, orange film of the shell lay floating on the water, and in their arms was a healthy baby boy of seven-and-a-half pounds, with black Liyuean hair and Snezhnayan sea-blue eyes.
Heralding his otherworldliness were his arms: his hands were dusty yellow that shifted to deep, earthy brown, ending at his shoulders. Like Zhongli, the veins on they boy's arms shimmered gold, lining his skin like Inazuman kintsugi pottery.
"We'll have to keep him swaddled in public," Childe had remarked, gazing fondly at his son's chubby brown limbs. "He would cause quite a stir."
Zhongli had only hummed, brushing his thumb over the baby's soft cheek. "He will learn to control it soon." In solidarity, the celestial pattern on Zhongli's arms rippled into being on his skin, flowing from his shoulders like a painter's first stroke, and then rippled back out as gently as it came.
Indeed Shuo did learn. Keeping him well hidden under blankets or long-sleeves with gloves whenever they took him outside, they managed to avoid notice until he learned to maintain a fully human form at age four. They raised him on baby formula which he caught Zhongli sprinkling goldfish food into several times. (He trusted Zhongli's judgement on this, and their son grew up healthy so apparently it worked.)
Today, Childe was thirty-six, his son was eight, and his husband had stopped counting. He still felt fit as a fiddle, in fact better than he had during his twenties as he had phased out use of his Delusion almost completely. While he still loved being a warrior, and continued to be one professionally, having a son put preserving his health a little higher on his priority list. Besides, it wasn't as if the Fatui could force him to use his Delusion as long as he was still getting his job done. Which he was—with excellence, he'll have you know.
At the moment he was cooking breakfast in the kitchen, the smell of eggs wafting into the following halls, which successfully lured his husband out of the blanket pile that was their bedroom.
"Mmmh," exhaled Zhongli, stepping slowly through the doorframe and coming to wrap his arms around Childe's waist. "I see you're making breakfast this morning."
Childe sighed into Zhongli's embrace, and ran his wooden spoon through the egg mixture. "We're having Mondstadt-style. Shuo and I need something heavier for when we go to the mountains today." Hu Tao and Zhongli were expanding the funeral parlor's services to include embalming, and with the Chasm trade routes still held up it was actually easier to just glide on the winds up to Jueyun Karst and pick the Qixings needed for the preservatives by hand.
Zhongli kissed his neck. "Wise choice. Have Shuo catch some frogs and butterflies while your out—we've nearly run out of Streaming Essential Oil."
Childe nodded in response and flicked his eyes to the clock. "We should be going soon."
Zhongli squeezed him softly again and nuzzled sleepily into his neck. "What a shame."
Childe's body had heated up under Zhongli's little ministrations. He'd been busy all week with the parlor expansion, so neither had had the opportunity to be truly satisfied...
Resolved, Childe turned the element off and turned to face Zhongli, fitting his body neatly against his. "But," he proposed, voice sultry, twining his arms around Zhongli as well, "We could always delay the trip for a little while... Go back to bed..." He purred into his lover's ear, sliding his hands greedily down his back to squeeze at his hips.
Tartaglia rocked his hips forward and Zhongli moaned despite himself, trying to shoot him a hard look. "Mmph... I wish we could."
Childe felt his smile curl wolfishly, revealing his incisors. "And why can't we? Come on—I was just aching for you this morning, but you looked so beautiful fast asleep, I couldn't bear to wake you up."
A pale blush dusted Zhongli's cheeks. So many years together had only made Childe more effective at turning the ex-Archon on. Pressing back against him, Zhongli ground back on Childe and sighed breathily in his ear.
"I have work to do," his low voice rumbled. "I have to get the paperwork for the parlour done by today... Oh Aj—mmmphh," Zhongli was cut off by Childe capturing his lips in a needy kiss. Unable to resist, Zhongli rocked against Childe's lips and tangled his hands in his hair, holding his lover close. The lazy morning pleasure fogged over Childe's brain, until he knew nothing but mouth and hands and—
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Loud, jumpy footsteps echoed from the stairs.
Childe pulled away, a little disappointed. "Looks like Shuo's awake."
Zhongli took a step back and smiled at him. "Just in time." He straightened his clothes, quickly looking immaculate as ever. "You always bring out the impractical in me."
"I'm ready to go!" A high, excitable voice announced into the kitchen. Jumping into the room, a small child with fluffy black hair, bright blue eyes, and a hardy cargo backpack rocked back and forth in his white tennis shoes, energy radiating from his every pore. He wore khaki shorts and a blue t-shirt. A white plastic butterfly net stuck out of the backpack's right side.
"Look at you all dressed up!" Said Childe, filing away his lust for a later date. Shuo beamed with pride. "But slow down, kiddo. We haven't eaten yet!"
His son's eyes went wide—he had completely forgotten eating was important. "Oh yeahhh."
Childe leaned in and mussed up his soft hair. Shuo yelped immediately and started waving him off, hissing like a cat. "Go sit down, breakfast is ready."
"Okay!" Shuo marched to the table and sat down, not bothering to take off his well-stuffed backpack. What his boy had personally decided was important to take on the trip was beyond him, but if he wanted to carry it up the mountain, more power to him.
Zhongli leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. "I'm certain Shuo will be tired after his long day... I'll await you tonight."
Childe took Zhongli's face in his left hand and pulled him in for another kiss. "I can't wait."
"You guys are gross," exclaimed Shuo. Childe and Zhongli turned to find him staring at them from the dining room, feet swishing back and forth under the chair. Childe felt his face heat up.
"One day you'll understand," replied Zhongli, unfettered, taking the plate of finished eggs off the stove and carrying them to the table.
"Nuh-uh. Never."
Zhongli smiled. "As you like."
Li Shuo had many secrets.
He was good at keeping secrets! His dads told him so. Ever since he was a baby he'd been forced to be sneaky... yes... always lurking around, fooling everyone in the world except for him, Dad, and Baba.
Like a ninja, Shuo crouched in the long grass by the small, glassy pool in the centre of the space. He and Dad had climbed up Mount Hulao on a super-secret hunting mission while Baba was back home... filing taxes. Or something. Shuo didn't really pay attention, it sounded boring.
Peeking his head up, he spotted his dad's tall figure bent over picking Qixings, orange hair like a thick smear of paint through all the pale green.
Shuo tightened his hold on the plastic net in his hands, and turned back to the pool, where his main objective lay. His bright blue eyes zeroed in on his target: a wide-eyed frog relaxed at the edge of the water. He was frog- and bug-catching so his dads could make potions back home. It was a very important job. Quietly, he moved ever so closer to his target. Watching. Waiting.
Ah, yes. Back to the secrets.
His first secret was that Li wasn't actually his last name. His real last name was Kazakov, the same as Dad. Nobody knew that Shuo was half Snezhnayan—his dad hid in the shadows, doing special work for special people, so they kept it quiet that he and Dad were related. Everyone at school thought he was completely Liyuen, except with lucky blue eyes. And because Shuo was good at keeping secrets, they never would.
Shuo raised his net in a high arc above the unsuspecting frog.
His second secret was that his Baba was the God of Commerce. Ex-God as Baba would insist whenever he and Dad brought it up, but Shuo knew he was just being modest. He was definitely still a god. Baba was just cool like that.
I've got you, froggy. Just a little closer...
But his third secret, his darkest, most embarrassing secret, was one he could never tell a soul. No one at school, none of his friends. Not even his dads.
His secret was.... He was afraid of the dark.
SLAM! The net clapped down and the frog jumped away a split second before he could catch it. Shuo cried out in anger, jumping out of the crouch onto his feet, as he watched the slippery frog escape into the pool.
"Miss a frog again?" His dad's voice called from behind.
"Yeah. Ugh!" Shuo huffed, not bothering to turn around. His dad chuckled in response.
"You'll get 'em next time."
Yeah. He would. Definitely.
Shaking his head, Shuo forced the thoughts about secrets from his mind. His fear of the dark was so embarrassing to think about—it threw him off his rhythm! That's why he missed the frog.
But he couldn't help it. Anything could be out there. He'd heard about all the things his dads had fought, and any one of them could come for him at any time...!
Shuo tightened his fists on the bug net. It was time to think about something else. Maybe he should try a different spot on the pool—
—what was that?
Shuo stopped. There was a dark spot in the centre of the pond. About the size of two frogs. But it was definitely not a frog.
Heedless of the water, Shuo stepped into the pool. Water lapped at his skinny legs as he approached the dark spot. Closer now, it was a sickly looking purple, and it rippled slightly—like how air wiggled on a hot day.
Stepping right up close to it, he felt a shiver run up his spine. Despite the heat of the day he suddenly felt very cold. There was something wrong with that spot—it cut through the water like it was painted over it. Like a portal to somewhere else.
It scared him. It was dark, so dark. Whispers echoed at the very edge of his hearing, voices muffled and low.
He wanted to touch it. It terrified him. Why did he want to touch it?
This was bad, very bad.
"Dad!" He cried, voice edged with panic. Dad picked up on it instantly and snapped to attention.
"What is it?" He replied, voice hard, running closer to him.
"I-" Shuo said, voice breaking despite himself. His legs were shaking. "I think I found something weird. It's like a hole in the air and it's weird and black and purple—"
"DON'T MOVE!" His dad roared. Shuo froze in place. His head was turned to face his dad, and Shuo had never seen his father look so terrified. His hand was held out in front of him, and his entire body was tense. His deep blue eyes were wide as saucers.
"Dad—" he tried, voice shaky. "I'm scared—"
"I know," Dad replied, stepping closer, not tearing his eyes away. "I know. But I need you to do something for me, okay? Can you do that?"
Shuo nodded.
"Okay," Dad inhaled and exhaled shakily. "Back away toward me. Slowly. I know you might want to touch that, but stay as far away as you can."
Shuo breathed in tandem. Stepping back, he kept his head turned to face his dad, seeking refuge from the strangeness and the frantic beat of his heart.
He looked straight at his dad. If only he'd looked at the floor.
A large rock was jutting out of the pond bed, just below the surface, covered completely in thick, slippery moss.
Shuo stepped back, and he slipped. Shrieking, he threw his hands back to break his fall.
Dad screamed. He saw him jump forward practically in slow motion.
Shuo fell back, back, back.
The little spot on the surface suddenly expanded, filling the entire breadth of the pond.
Instead of hitting cool, gentle water, Shuo's back hit cold.
And quiet.
And dark.
Shuo fell. He kept falling.