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In a small clearing atop Mount Tianheng, Zhongli and Ajax rest in the grass, leaning against each other, and bask in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Today, Ajax satisfied his thirst faster than usual, the sun still high in the sky when they sat down to relax. After his first attempt at spending a leisurely day with Ajax, Zhongli quickly learned to bring Ajax to plenty of enemies before settling down. Although, he’s not ashamed to admit he enjoys watching his handsome partner move as he lets out his pent up energy fighting hilichurls and ruin guards alike. There’s a unique lilt to his laughter as he cuts down his opponents, one that Zhongli finds endlessly endearing.
“I’m going to conquer the world, or I'm going to die trying,” Ajax says, interrupting Zhongli’s internal musings. There is no harshness to his voice; it falls gently to Zhongli’s ears, just as raindrops fall to the ground. Zhongli doesn't respond, but instead reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair behind Ajax’s ear with a hum.
“So one day, you're going to forget me,” he continues. The hand resting on Zhongli’s chest sneaks upwards to fiddle with his tie. It’s not a nervous gesture, just an idle one. “Or, you’re going to stop loving me.”
Zhongli’s hand stills against Ajax’s head momentarily, before he moves it to cup Ajax’s cheek, tilting his face up to meet his eyes.
“Never,” he murmurs, yet his voice is deep and unwavering. Ajax chuckles, bringing his own hand up to cover Zhongli’s.
“You’re already an old man,” he says, and oh, there’s that mischief that brings some light back to those blue eyes, and Zhongli can’t look away even if he wanted to. “First, you lost your gnosis—who’s to say your memory isn't next?”
“Hmm,” Zhongli hums, leaning down to press a light kiss to his forehead. He smiles as Ajax’s fingers lightly squeeze his hand. “I was alive for millennia before receiving the gnosis, and my memories of those years are just as vivid as those of yesterday. You will not escape me so easily.”
“Who said anything about escaping?” Ajax asks with a laugh. He shifts closer, pressing his face to Zhongli’s neck. “But I might just do something you can’t forgive.”
His voice is suddenly softer, tinted with a rare vulnerability.
“Oh, my love,” Zhongli breathes. His hand moves to the back of Ajax’s head, fingers tangling through orange locks as he holds him close. “It seems you are the one who is losing his memory.”
Ajax makes a questioning noise, his voice muffled against the skin of Zhongli’s neck. Zhongli chuckles at the sound, his eyes shining with fondness as he gently brushes his fingers through Ajax’s hair.
“You forget that I was once known as the Warrior God. One does not earn that title without blood on his hands and carnage at his feet,” Zhongli says. He glances at his hand in Ajax’s hair, and thinks that orange looks much more lovely between his fingers than red. “And the depth of my emotions towards my long gone friends has never once abated, even toward those who turned against me and forced me to seal them away.”
“But..” Ajax pauses before nuzzling closer. “Didn’t those friends lose their memories? That won’t happen to you?”
“I assure you, dear Ajax, that day will not come until all mountains erode and the seas run dry, until the stars burn out and Celestia falls, and the sun withers and all the worlds end,” he says. “Perhaps, then, my memories will begin to fade.”
“Perhaps,” he repeats, leaning down to press his lips against the crown of Ajax’s head. “But even if I forget the color of your eyes and the sound of your voice, and even if I grow so old that my tongue can no longer form the syllables of your name, my love for you will not diminish.”
Ajax is silent, head resting warmly against his shoulder. When he finally speaks, he doesn't look up at Zhongli.
“Even if I’m the reason the world ends?” The words are soft, the air from Ajax’s mouth tickling Zhongli’s neck.
“If that is the case, then my only wish is that you are by my side when my heart beats for the last time.”
A rush of air leaves Ajax’s lungs, and his fingers tighten their grip on the fabric of Zhongli’s waistcoat. He shifts downward until he rests his head against Zhongli’s chest, as if to reassure himself of the beating heart behind Zhongli’s rib cage.
“Okay,” he whispers, and closes his eyes.
They stay there, arms wrapped around each other, until the sky shifts from blue to gold to black. Heat emanates from the rocks and mountains—a memory of the sun’s caress—surrounding them with the warmth of the earth.
But while the mountains remember a history far longer than any other entity, the sun’s love is fleeting once night falls, and the earth grows cold in its solitude.
A cool breeze seems to rouse Ajax from his respite, his eyelashes fluttering as his eyes open. He rises soundlessly, brushing the dirt off his pants before reaching a hand out to Zhongli, who slides his hand into Ajax’s and allows himself to be pulled up. He presses close to Ajax immediately, already trying to reclaim the warmth that left him when the man stood up. Ajax squeezes his fingers around Zhongli’s hand and pulls him even closer.
“You know, you were wrong about one thing,” he says with a smile, lifting his other hand to slide up Zhongli’s shoulder, fingering at the edge of his waistcoat. He leans forward to speak softly into his ear. “I never once forgot you were the Warrior God.”
A laugh tumbles from Zhongli’s lips unbidden. “Is that so?” he asks, amused. Ajax pulls back with a pout.
“Of course!” he exclaims, his quick fingers grasping Zhongli’s earring and tugging playfully. “You think I’d just forget all your stories of fierce battles and conquests? Especially when you haven’t agreed to spar with me yet?”
Ah, and just like that, the pensive air around them dissipates. Yet, Zhongli can’t find it within him to mourn the loss, as he watches the man he loves rant about his desire for battle, his expressive hands waving wildly as he speaks.
“Zhongli, that’s the one thing I will never forget,” he continues as Zhongli observes fondly. “I think about it all the time, actually. Why won’t you just fight me alrea—”
Ajax lets out a startled noise when Zhongli surges forward to press their lips together, cradling his face with one hand and grasping his waist with the other. He smiles briefly when he feels Ajax’s hands settle atop his shoulders, a touch that grows more firm as the kiss deepens with desire.
Never in his thousands of years has Zhongli felt so light on his feet, as if a tide has rushed underneath him and swept him away. His heart blooms at the sound of Ajax’s tender exhale, like a glaze lily’s petals opening up to a soft melody. But unlike a flower, his heart is solid as stone, and so his devotion is enduring.
He presses all of his adoration into the soft skin of Ajax’s lips, until it is too much to bear and they both pull away with gasps and heavy breaths.
“Sweet boy,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb across Ajax’s red cheeks as he looks into his blue eyes. Ajax’s tongue darts out briefly as he looks back before he breaks his gaze to lean his forehead against Zhongli’s shoulder.
“You’re unfair,” he whines. Zhongli chuckles and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug.
“We’ll need to draw up a contract before we do any sparring,” Zhongli says. Ajax perks up at that, pulling away to look back at Zhongli.
“Really?” he asks, excited. “You’re going to fight me?”
Zhongli laughs and kisses his nose. “Yes, but not now.” Ajax scrunches up his face but doesn’t argue.
“Promise me,” he says, a faux-serious expression on his face as he lifts up his hand, holding out his pinky. Zhongli smiles.
“I promise,” Zhongli says resolutely.
A promise not just for the spar, but for all the words he said before. He doesn’t need to say them again. He knows that Ajax understands, as their pinky fingers twine together tightly and they look into each other’s eyes.
After all, the light in those blue eyes is shining brighter than the glow of the moon.