Work Text:
The tip of his pen was a poor substitute.
Cold. Hard. Plastic.
Very plastic.
It bit back against his tongue, once smooth surfaces turned to sharp miniature daggers formed by his own mouth in nervous frustration.
Childe rolled the object between his lips anyways. It clicked against his teeth as he stared out the window.
That ass deserved a warning label.
He was doing his best not to be blatant, leaning back in his cubicle and tapping against the noisy keyboard occasionally- but Zhongli made it difficult. The slacks made it a challenge. The man bending over casually leaned against a filing cabinet containing god knew how many classified documents?
Insane. This was insane.
He dragged his eyes away, almost growling at the poor writing utensil subject to his annoyance. Bits of the thing tore off under his teeth, grating against them like shitty, inefficient chewing gum and sandpaper had a hate fuck lovechild. It occupied his need for a tactile response at least, huffing as he tried to focus on his tasks.
Convert code B to code A, provided the supply chain was adequate at SNZ to LYE and had a repair code of J- what the fuck did J mean?
He opened a PDF of his codes and their meanings, sighing with aggravation.
J meant destruction by other authority- that couldn't be right? What was this? A bolt? Just a bolt- he couldn't find any indication it was anything else. Singular unit, issued in a box of one hundred. A bolt.
One (1) bolt.
J couldn't be right. Bolts didn't need 'higher authority'- they were fucking bolts. Who coded this? He opened the logistics management system. Typing in the material number he found the classification code was correct. Precious metal code was right. Item indicator code looked right.
His eyes fell to the hazardous indication code. It was the same as always. Normally reserved for nuclear. He'd seen it change a handful of times, usually on the big-boy projects little peons like him weren't really authorized to see unless something was passing over him in theory. Still, he clicked the tab to pull up all the different options.
N - non nuclear hard. Non hazardous.
X - no known nuclear hard, an important distinction. Known.
K - hazardous material, not nuclear hard.
O - nuclear hard, mzds required whatever the hell that meant
C - suspected hazardous or nuclear hard-
If Zhongli's ass did have a warning label, what would he give it?
Childe leaned in, staring at the codes intently. He glanced over to the hazardous material code- what type was it? Opening the list, he mulled his options. Poisonous liquids? Ammunition? Aniline Oil? Fireworks? He didn't even know they had fireworks in the Fatui. Learn something new every day. The words 'toy propellant device' caught his attention and he turned his eyes to the brunette that was still casually discussing a drawing with the engineers. The ass that was eye level with him like a baiting advertisement for unemployment.
Toy. Sure. Continuing on.
He needed something stronger.
Corrosive solid?
Grenade?
Monobromotrifluotomethane was a fun word. He liked it. Nonflammable, whatever the fuck it was. Monobro fluid seemed fun.
Titanium tetrachloride, corrosive material.
Hand signal device, class K explosive.
Yeah. That. That derriere was explosive by some right. Hand signal? Sign Childe the fuck up.
He scribbled the code on a post it- FU. Ha. Funny. Class K explosive- that was… not nuclear. So it got a code of K for hazardous, not hard- but he could be. Man he could be. He could even be nucleur if given ten minutes in the bathroom with nothing but his ambitions.
Moving on.
Hazardous Characteristic code.
Multiple options worked here- corrosive, infectious, explosive. All very 'Zhongli Ass Hand Signal' level of danger. Oh code L was for multiple. Perfect.
He scribbled notes rapidly. Out of habit, he labeled this new 'part' and 'material' with a nomenclature he felt was fitting but wouldn't draw too much attention- "TRTGL Lens Indicator."
Subtle.
Unit of issue, one whole ass.
Unit of measure, one.
Or would it be two? Was Zhongli's ass a singular unit or would it be two, supple, soft looking cheeks? One. It would be one. The material would be an 'end' design and the cheeks were singular parts.
His mind wandered.
A pop-up on outlook caught his attention.
[ [email protected] ]
… What are you working on?
Shit.
He looked down, the one post-it had become four. Different classifications and denominations for the brunette's ass stared back at him.
Sighing he typed a quick reply.
… Changing the hazard codes per the tasker from Signora. Need something?
He clicked back to the window with his actual work, trying to focus on the stupid, misplaced bolt.
… Need you to pull up something on SKRK for me, mine is down.
It wasn't. Childe knew that. If SKRK went down for one person, it was down for everyone. Zhongli, for whatever reason, was just shit with computers. Sighing, he open the site and let it load while responding.
… Sure, send the parts.
… Thank you, Childe.
He grumbled internally at himself, wondering why he was such a simp for the brunette as he waited. When the numbers came up, he printed each SKRK load out to PDF and sent it over, confirming none were classified before sending. A label. A bolt. An O-ring. A thruster. A rail.
The gods hated him. He was sure of it now.
The parts made absolutely no sense. They came from different systems- but… whatever. Not his problem. Whatever zhongli was working on as none of his business. He added them up into an email and sent them, turning back to his task and getting through a few of them while his brain threatened to melt. Pulling up a side window, he idly turned a AeCast video. Something to keep his spirits up as capitalism and the need for a paycheck threatened to smash them.
Childe swayed in his chair a bit to the music that came and went, not caring who saw as he typed away. If he could get through the next five, he'd reward himself with some light reading on his phone- not that he'd EVER read, much less write fanfiction of his favorite video games on company time. No. Not Childe.
The notification alert saying something has updated was definitely not tempting in the slightest. Damn authors and their beautiful, sinful oneshots and multi chaptered stories that made most published books boring. Our Own Archive dot com had ruined and spoiled him. The bird app would likely have something pretty to look at too-
A ping.
[ [email protected] ]
… Do you have a minute? I found an example of a specific type of coding that is uncommon and haven't been able to train you on it before.
He glanced at the message curiously. Zhongli was just a contractor. Though, a very knowledgeable one. Beloved by the department, he often trained people off and on for various things- and being the youngest in his division with the least experience, this sort of thing wasn't uncommon. Annoying as it could be, the training was good and did help. Usually. Provided Zhongli could get his computer to work.
… Okay, give me a sec.
He finished up his current material and slipped out of his chair, happy to be on his feet if nothing else. Maybe he'd grab a soda from the break room while he was up. Two rows over, in a back cubicle by the window, sat Zhongli. He meandered over casually, as if he hadn't just been taking an obscene amount of notes classifying their ass as an explosive material of mass destruction to his sanity.
"What's up?"
"Have a look," a deep baritone cooed, chair sliding back easily over the floor to allow him space to see the screen.
Childe leaned down to see the words on the screen. It was a liquid material, non hazardous… a lubricant of some sort called-
Now that wasn't fair.
The words "penetrating fluid" stared back at him.
"Ah- what am I looking at exactly?"
"Do you see anything wrong with it?" The tone was smooth and level, soothing into his senses and pooling somewhere deep in his gut that really should have an off switch during work hours but didn't.
"I'd like to buy a vowel," he raised a brow, skimming the codes.
A chuckle, a long finger tapped the screen by a specific code he was less familiar with. Zhongli began to explain, in acute and perfect detail, how the nonsensical letters interacted. It was something he knew. He wasn't sure why the brunette was explaining to him again, but enjoyed the purring timbre of their voice. This close, his horny brain gripped the moment and burned it to memory. Zhongli half leaned against his shoulder, warmth tangible as they explained how a 'penetration fluid' was commonly used in tandem with a 'rail' and used to spearhead something. Pulling up a drawing confirmed it, but Childe wasn't quite sure this whole situation was real. Further parts were explained. Brackets. Rings. Crossbars. Innocent at first. Then came the bedding, locking deck, force driver, receptor, and a screw. One whole screw.
Was he being harassed?
Was this harassment?
Amber eyes turned on him, long lashes shading his thoughts. The beautiful face of a beautiful man shredded whatever sanity he had telling him this was not at all professional. Especially not as those golden eyes looked him up and down like a man starved. Or maybe not. Childe liked to believe that's what it was. A pink tongue flicked over perfect lips in idle thoughts he dared to dream were sin incarnate.
Shit.
He didn't care.
Harass him more, daddy.
"Do you have any questions?"
"How do you like your coffee in the morning?"
Zhongli's expression faltered, blinking owlishly at him for a moment and turning a shade of pink that Childe had never seen before. the redhead stared back.
Oh.
Oh shit, he said that out loud.
Quick- uh. Think of something. Fucking anything. Last thing he needed was to get fired for harassing his coworker over some peculiar nomenclatures because his horny ass brain wouldn't behave itself. "I- I mean… you're always helping me out, least I can do is swing through PaiMond and grab you a coffee."
"Oh- I see," their gaze shifted to the screen. "I don't believe that would be appropriate given that I am a contractor and you are a formal employee."
Fuck.
"Right. My bad," he could feel his entire being trying to drop the floor, sinking deep starting with his lungs and guts. They churned like snakes, skin cool and uncomfortable. "Nevermind then."
"However, sharing a meal with a friend is not against any policy."
The words were alien, foreign.
What the fuck? "Huh?"
"Does Chinese sound alright? There's a lovely place within a reasonable distance- oh but it may require longer than our allotted meal time for lunch."
Childe stood there, dumbfounded.
"Would you perhaps like to meet me on the weekend? Or after work?"
"You don't have lunch at 5 pm," he muttered.
"Correct."
The feeling got worse, or better. He didn't know. His eyes traced over the words penetration fluid again, the 'ene' mocking him like an unamused emoji. "Are… are you asking me out?"
Zhongli smiled, eyes narrowing a bit as the curve of their lips broadened. "You know workplace flirtations are generally frowned upon. Between a contractor and employee, even more so."
He swallowed, noting the word 'generally'.
"So I suppose we will discuss this later. When does your shift end?"
"Five," he responded automatically.
"I'll wait for you in the break area outside then."
Holy shit this was actually a conversation. They were saying these words. Zhongli's pretty, pretty lips had formed those syllables and made them real. Articulate and accurate as always. In contrast, the best thing he could come up with was- "Okay. Cool."
"Until then, I've taken enough of your time. Thank you for your assistance with the SKRK reports."
He nodded and exchanged partings as he numbly returned to his desk. Collapsing in his chair, he glanced at his notes.
Explosive, hazardous material was right. Transport code Y for yes, fucking please.