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Zhongli smelled him before he heard him; the cloy, clinging scent of iron filling his nostrils and tanging his tongue as if blood had filled his mouth. Shoulders tense, he waited – agonizing seconds counted far too slowly by the clock on the wall as uneven footsteps made their way down the corridor outside.
The urge to get up now and greet Childe at the door was overwhelming, but there was no guarantee that he was there for him. After all, they hadn’t spoken in weeks.
Not ever since he had revealed he was Rex Lapis.
He had, admittedly, not expected the harbinger to take the news so hard. Sure, Zhongli had felt they were close, had wished to be closer, but it had always been a tad difficult to discern the redhead’s feelings towards him when they were usually so well masked. The sting of betrayal had revealed all though: the crack in Childe’s voice when Signora had broken the news, the hurt and confusion on his face when he had looked back to him for confirmation – Zhongli had nearly given in right there. He hadn’t, of course. Couldn’t have. There had been too much at stake, and to bare their weakness in front of others was a luxury neither of them could afford.
Worse yet, even though everything had gone accordingly and he could finally retire without worry, it had come at the unexpected cost of their companionship, of that closeness they had once shared, and it had been a loss Zhongli hadn’t accounted for. The sudden absence of Childe from his life had weighed on him heavily since that day, a sinking stone in his chest every time his name was brought up but the man himself was nowhere to be found.
Childe had never left for Snezhnaya after all, instead opting to stall his return for far longer than everyone knew he should’ve. Something about unfinished business, he had said; and though it would’ve been presumptuous of Zhongli to assume that said unfinished business referred to him, he had most certainly kept that hope alive in his heart. However, no one had seen him anywhere around Liyue Harbor — even Ekaterina, likely his closest subordinate from the Northland Bank, admitted that she too did not know where he had gone.
After weeks of being evasive, sightings of the man being rarer than that of an adeptus, he was finally here — the strong smell of blood a good enough indicator that he was presently just outside the door. The incense that had been lit earlier was losing a well fought battle against the metallic scent (and there must truly be a lot of it if that was the case), but the clock ticked on and there was still no knock.
Restless after almost a minute of silence on Childe's end, Zhongli got up and crossed the room, plush rugs dampening all sounds other than that of his clothes swishing behind him and of labored breathing – but from whom did such breathlessness come?
Himself, or Childe?
Hand paused on the door handle, he tried desperately to reevaluate: if he was already losing his bearings, was it really the right time to face Childe again? Or was it perhaps better to let what was left of their relationship erode away back into nothing? To discard what had been nurtured due to having been borne on opposite sides of a conflict.
From the other side, Zhongli heard the rustling of fabric, and then a slight thump. A low grunt of pain followed before Childe whispered, “Xiansheng, are you there?”
Sliding open the door, the light from inside poured out into the corridor and embraced the young man with low lantern light. It illuminated his form like a halo, the vast amount of blood that covered his body shimmering as he wobbled on his feet. It was not his first time seeing such a sight, but the severity of it was enough to keep Zhongli rooted to his spot in the doorway.
Resisting the want to bite at his bottom lip in concern, his hand curled in against the wood of the door instead. The clashing scents of osmanthus incense and blood caused him some dizziness as he forced himself to speak: “I’m here,” he responded, tongue heavy. “I’ve always been here,” he doesn’t say.
Childe coughed up a scratchy laugh as he leaned against the column by the door - they both ignored the blood that trickled down the corner of his mouth afterwards. “Ah, let me guess: you were expecting me?,” he asked, but it was rhetorical, and Zhongli had learned by now not to answer those when Childe was upset, so he waited. He was good at that. “I wouldn’t put it past you to have planned this too,” Childe bit out after no response, and Zhongli frowned.
“You’re injured,” he said instead, moving to try to wipe at a seemingly new stream of crimson running down the side of his face, but Childe retreated quickly. Even though he nearly lost his balance, he didn’t let his gaze drop from Zhongli’s hand. Blood dripped to the floor between them, and idly, Zhongli wondered how long it’d take to clean up. “Let me help you,” he insisted as he retracted his arm, pulling it in closer to his chest when he’s glared at, as if the idea itself was repulsive. “Please,” Zhongli added, taking a step back out of the doorway, trying to show he was welcome to enter. “It would not benefit either of us if you passed out from blood loss after coming all this way.”
Neither of them said anything for a while, but eventually Childe seemed to relent. His shoulders dropped, and with one arm still pressed firmly against his side, he staggered into the interior of his home. Zhongli stepped out of his way as he entered, the harbinger heading straight to his office, where he knew the first aid kit was kept. Zhongli followed, ignoring the needling thoughts about having to clean up a trail of blood later as he kept an eye on Childe's form, watching to make sure he didn’t sway too much.
The harbinger made it to the door frame of the office before stopping to lean against it, heavy pants and suppressed wincing indicative of more serious injuries than Zhongli could see. Silently, he glided past him to retrieve the first aid kit in his stead, only to set it aside so that he could coerce Childe into settling down in the only place injured people were allowed to sit: a stiff, wooden armchair that was without fabric to stain.
Once accomplished, he turned back to his desk to open the first aid kit, which had Childe reacting with an annoyed huff. He swatted at Zhongli’s arm to try and deter him: “Stop that. I’ll do it myself.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “You arrive at my doorstep, bloodied and bleeding out, and you expect me to let you handle it yourself?”
Childe shifted his gaze and posture, crossing his arms and nestling his chin against his own shoulder: a feign of getting comfortable. He’d never admit to it, and Zhongli would never say it aloud, but he was most certainly pouting. This act was the same song and dance as every other time he’d end up at Zhongli’s place to be bandaged up, refusing treatment even though he was the one to have shown up in the first place. Despite the comfort it brought him however, it felt odd to have such a familiar routine juxtaposed with such ambiguously tense circumstances. “They’re not that bad,” Childe asserted unconvincingly, bringing Zhongli’s eyes back up in time for him to watch the shrug that accompanied his statement leave him hissing in pain. He extended a hand towards the first aid kit anyway. “Just, hand it over.”
“No,” and one would’ve thought that he had demanded he never see his family again.
“Then show me,” Zhongli demanded calmly over the protests that fell from Childe's mouth. “I’ll ascertain the extent of your injuries first. If they’re manageable, I’ll allow you to do this yourself.”
His jaw clenched, as if upset to have been told to do anything at all. “It’s not a big deal,” he said with a wave, confirming Zhongli’s suspicions, “I may have gotten a bit reckless, but I won.”
Zhongli narrowed his eyes, “Winning isn’t everything.”
“Yeah?” he asked with a cold edge that had Zhongli pressing himself into the side of his desk, “well that’s always easier for the winners to say, isn’t it?” he spat.
Zhongli felt his chest ache as if he’d been stabbed. “Ajax,” he tried softly, but he’s only given a nasty look as a result. “Childe,” he restarted, sadness choking his throat as he knelt down in front of him, cloth in hand so that he could begin to wipe away at the blood. Thankfully, the harbinger didn’t shirk off his efforts, letting his arm be wiped at with no real complaint as Zhongli began, “I know you’re upset with me, but I won’t apologize for what I did. It was a necessary trial for me to conduct to determine the strength of my people. I needed to know they’d be alright without me.”
Childe rolled his eyes. “Pretty words xiansheng, but they don’t mean anything to me. After all, I’m not one of “your” people, Morax.”
He clenched at the cloth in his hands, “But you are -”
“I’m not!” Childe went to stand, but his knees buckled before he could do so properly and he collapsed back into the chair. Cursing under his breath, Childe sat back up before stressing, “I belong to the Fatui, to the Tsaritsa. You’ve more than already proven your point with all your scheming. Now your precious city will be safe and the Fatui will be one more gnosis closer to their goal.”
Dabbing gently around a gash, Zhongli couldn’t help but add quietly, “Yet you seem unhappy about that.”
Tutting, Childe turned away, chin propped up on his hand as he remarked bitterly, “That’s because I am.” He paused, his contemplation so palpable Zhongli eventually came to a stop too. Childe’s one arm was almost completely free of blood now, but the rest of him…
“I was made a fool of,” he mumbled, subconsciously holding out his other arm for Zhongli to begin working on next. The prime adeptus obeys the silent prompt, desperately fighting back the urge to take his hand instead to squeeze it comfortingly. He knew better than that though; knew better than to let his desires lead him. “I worked so hard to do exactly as I was ordered,” Childe said, flourishing his free hand in the air, “but I was exploited. Now that makes me into a villain. Now I’m expected to be sorry — but I’m not. I’m not either of those things.”
“Ajax,” he whispered, and though he didn't mean to say his name again, the habit was hard to abandon when this moment was so reminiscent of what they had shared in the past.
“No! No! I’m still upset with you!” Childe exclaimed, arm yanking back out of his grasp and almost taking the cloth with him. “You knew who I was from the start, but you didn’t say anything!” The wound on his arm opened up again, and as Zhongli rose to try to restrain him, to stop him from hurting himself further, Childe jerked back again, smearing more blood against his clothes. “Was it fun? Laughing at me while I worked towards a futile end? Watching me trust you despite everything? I knew nothing in comparison to you, yet you entertained me like I was nothing more than a child, like I was only a means to an end.”
Zhongli’s eyes flashed dangerously as he finally grabbed ahold of Childe’s flailing wrists and pinned them above his head. He wanted to retort, to assert how wrong he was, to emphasize the elation he truly felt being in his presence, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he found himself transfixed by the fire in Childe’s eyes; the spirit and willpower that had drawn Zhongli to the harbinger in the first place flickering strongly behind such dull blue discs.
“What? Did I strike a nerve?” He asked when Zhongli took too long to respond. Childe smirked and moved to kick Zhongli away, but the god let his barrier ripple out from him: golden, shining, and easily stopping the attack from the weakened man. Childe coughed at the unexpected impact, and the smell of blood was all of a sudden quite intoxicating to Zhongli at such a close range, so much so he could feel the handle he usually had on himself slipping as the harbinger continued to antagonize him. “Guess I did then,” Childe scoffed, wriggling a hand free from his grasp to reach down through the barrier with, knowing full well that Zhongli had always allowed him to enter so long as it wasn’t an attack: It was all too easy to take advantage of.
He yanked at Zhongli’s fringe painfully, causing him to bend over Childe’s form awkwardly, knee landing harshly against the chair for balance as a warning growl escaped his throat, their foreheads colliding painfully.
Childe bared his teeth in response, a manic grin crossing his features in such a way it complimented the lack of a shine in his eyes and the dried blood on his cheeks. “You weren't the only one to betray me, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if you were; I had expected better from you. Ridiculous, isn't it? That I could come to expect such a thing when you’ve obviously always only just thought of me as below you.” Zhongli bites his lip, ignoring the pain that comes from a fang piercing his skin as Childe cackled, “Look at you! You can hardly even maintain your human form right now, can you?”
Static filled his mind and limbs, the slight electrical buzz affecting the very air around them as Zhongli held himself back from physically knocking some sense into the man he was straddling. A restrained voice eventually left him, low and almost threatening if he were not aware of his own intentions, “If you thought all of this, then why are you here?” The question was barely out of his mouth when the bell that marks midnight tolled outside, filling the charged air between them in lieu of a response. Childe averted his gaze. “Why did you come here?” He repeated, determined to get an answer from him, but Childe clamped his lips down and refused to talk.
While Zhongli was no longer a proper archon, he was still a god, and despite his usually patient nature, the rumbling emanating from him could only be a forewarning of things about to go dangerously south. Even as their surroundings shook and the light behind him went out, Childe still refused to speak. Zhongli’s grip tightened. He hadn’t wanted to, but he only had one other choice. “Tell me now, Ajax.”
The harbinger glowered, going to correct him about his name usage no doubt, when-, “I had nowhere else to go.” Childe’s eyes widen, and Zhongli can feel the muscles under him tense. Ah, he should’ve assumed he’d catch on quickly. “ Don’t do that again,” he said darkly after being given a moment to collect himself, and Zhongli didn’t even bother trying to hide his shrug.
“Then tell me of your own volition.”
He gaped. “That’s not how this works,” he said, moving in closer to his face, their noses touching as he seethed. Childe tugged again at the bangs still in his hand, the golden glow coming off the tips indicative of the powers he was employing. “Using your divinity just to compel me into speaking is completely unfair.”
“Think of it as payment for the care you’ll be receiving then,” Zhongli huffed, grabbing the wayward wrist to have him release his hair. “Now explain to me something I don’t understand: what do you mean you had nowhere else to go?”
This time, he kept his mouth shut, determined not to answer again.
”What about Northland?” He pressed, and the man stiffened further. “The employees there are still quite fond of you. I’m sure that-“
“Going back there would just mean being sent back on the first ship to Snezhnaya.” Childe snapped, but it seemed like he had done so willingly, so Zhongli let his ability drop. Childe continued however, resentment running thick in his voice as he spoke, “Regardless of how fond they may be of me, their first duty is to the Tsaritsa in the end, and as is mine. Right now, my return is what is most important to them, and as much as I know I should go, I can’t leave without tying up loose ends.”
“And what might those be?”
He scowled, “None of your business.”
Zhongli resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Given you’ve returned to my place to be fixed up, I’m afraid it is actually my business.”
Childe tutted at him, but he’d calmed down a bit now, the boiling anger that had been there before only simmering now. Zhongli relaxed his grip and dropped his shield, leaving the only light left in the room to be that of the moon through the window and the gentle pulse of his hair. From his peripheral, he sees another slow trickle of blood running down Childe’s face and sighed.
What was he thinking? He relinquished his hold entirely, opting to grab for the once discarded cloth to wipe at his face with a soft swipe. Childe frowned.
“Don’t make that face.”
He doesn’t look up, “What face?”
This time Childe sighs, and he leans back into the chair. “Like I’ve hurt you.”
The wall clock ticked on, Zhongli’s lips pressed together as he covered their eyes, the ones that reminded him of the clear ocean surrounding the Yaoguang Shoals, as he passed them over to get at the dried blood on their forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, because he’s certain he had not altered his facial expression. The huff from below informed him Childe thought otherwise.
“You hurt me first,” he accused.
Zhongli hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing as he moved the cloth down the other side of his face. Blue eyes now watched him closely.
“You're the one that used me,” he said with fading heat. The blood loss seemed to finally be catching up to him he noted. Zhongli hummed again. “You never even apologized,” he sulked and Zhongli’s eyes flickered to meet Childe’s momentarily.
“I’m sorry,” he said, but that just elicited a deeper frown.
Sleepily, he shook his head, “No, not like that.”
“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you,” Zhongli repeated anyway, cloth sliding down to get at the blood that had splattered up Childe’s neck. “I could not have anticipated our compatibility or how attached I would grow to you. I-,” he faltered, stroking a thumb against the now clean skin. “I did not know how much I’d miss you when you were gone.”
Zhongli was certain that Childe could hear how fast his heart beat as he kept his gaze down, focusing on wiping at some unseen blemish still on his neck to distract himself.
Childe muscles relaxed under his ministrations, but he still looked away with a huff, “There’s no need to lie for my sake.“
Stopping his movements, Zhongli looked back up to Childe’s scowling face. It was lined with wrinkles and creases from his scrunched up eyebrows and downturned mouth, and deep inside Zhongli wanted nothing more than to press his lips to them until they smoothed out, to bring him into a warm embrace and nuzzle into the crook between his shoulder and neck while uttering his affections… but that was much too unrealistic and selfish on his part. His hand still moves to cradle Childe’s cheek though, a thumb coming up to press on the corner of his frown. “For months we sought each other’s company, so much so that I found in your absence that I could not help feeling lonely once more. Decades and centuries of subsisting largely on my own, and yet I had grown unaccustomed to that within such a short frame of time. It was a feeling I was only keenly aware of when you had disappeared, Ajax.”
There’s no power behind it, but Childe pushed at the hand on his face. Zhongli let him, twisting his palm upwards to show he’d move away, but Childe took it into his own, bloody glove in sterile one as he squeezed lightly.
It puzzled Zhongli, but he allowed for him to continue as he whispered to him, his own fingers curling around Childe’s hand greedily, “Surely, you must know that I’ve always thought of you as an equal; that I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”
Childe closed his eyes. Almost carefully, he pressed his cheek against the back of their joined hands, as if afraid that he’d disappear somehow, “Once all was revealed, I only felt abandoned. Like even after all I had fought for, I was still not trusted. Rationally, I knew why you couldn’t tell me anything, but I was still just… so angry at you. I couldn’t bring myself to face the part of me that was ready to forgive you because of that, because I know what it’s like to be protective of one’s home, of one’s family. I was just being selfish.”
A pause, then, “Now though? Now, I…” he shifted nervously, only to end up letting out a strained, shaky breath, and Zhongli was suddenly reminded once again that he was still injured. He moved to at least stop straddling him, to give him some room, but Childe’s other arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, actually forcing Zhongli to sit in his lap even despite how it obviously hurt him. “I just never want to feel that again, you hear me?”
His cheeks felt warm as his heart started thumping heavily in chest again – and as if that wasn’t bad enough, the tips of his hair began to glow brighter as well. He could only pray that Childe wasn’t wholly aware of what that meant as he nodded with a small, affirmative hum.
“Good,” he uttered, and this time he fully relaxed. Childe fell against him and buried his face into the folds of his robes in a motion that Zhongli didn’t dare compare to snuggling. In this position, were he to turn his head and press his ear against his chest, he would no doubt hear Zhongli's hammering heart. If that were to happen, then there’d really be no coming back, as Childe would no doubt know about his hidden feelings then, and it was still far too early for that.
“Zhongli-xiansheng?” Childe's voice lilted, slightly muffled by how his face was pressed into him.
“Yes?” he asked back in kind, matching his soft volume so as not to break them from their pleasant reverie.
He sighed through his nose, head tilting up into Zhongli’s neck affectionately as he said “I missed you too.”
Zhongli was much too stunned by such a development to be able to give a verbal answer. By the time he’d found his voice again, he belatedly registered how Childe’s breathing had evened out drastically: He had, in fact, finally passed out from blood loss.
Out of twisted relief, he exhaled loudly as he leaned down to rest his head against Childe’s still bloody shoulder, anxiety fizzling out of him as he delegated a few more seconds to collecting himself. How was his heart supposed to handle all of this so suddenly? He hadn’t been prepared at all!
Angling his head to the side, he observed what he could see of Childe’s sleeping profile, and he felt his heart yearn unnecessarily. Zhongli hadn’t been able to say anything earlier, but now that he wasn’t conscious for it, it’d be okay to ask now wouldn’t it?
He stroked at Childe’s cheek with a finger, moving back the scarlet-dyed hair that clung to his cheek so stubbornly that the god wondered if he wasn’t just doing the same. “Surely,” he said, voice low so as to not somehow rouse the harbinger, “surely you know now how much I love you?”
His forbidden question was met with a silent room, as it should be. Only the tick of the wall clock could prove to him that any time had passed at all as he finally extracted himself from Childe’s grip to get back to cleaning him up and getting him treated.
Even though it was a statement he should not dare seek a response for, he still felt disappointment echo hollow inside of him.
He wanted an answer.
He did not deserve one.
- — ◇ ◈ ◇ — -
When Childe announced the following afternoon that he was ready to leave for Snezhnaya, Zhongli found himself oddly at peace with the decision. While he had certainly helped along the harbinger’s recovery process by infusing him with geo energy, the vitality Childe’s body naturally displayed was a feat all on its own. It was really no surprise that he had healed so quickly given the circumstances.
As okay as he was with it, Zhongli did, however, ask if he was really ready to go so soon.
Childe’s laugh at the question was bright and warm, the sound of golden bells and ocean shores that left him reeling in affection. It had been something Zhongli had feared he’d never get to hear again, and yet, despite it all, he had been blessed with it once more. Truthfully, he didn’t hear much else after that, still much too intent on capturing the moment in his mind so that he might always remember Childe in this way, in case he never got the chance to again.
When it came time for him to depart, Childe hovered in the doorway uncertainly, as if all of a sudden hesitant in his decision.
Such an action was quite unlike him, so Zhongli had called out his name gently and with restrained tenderness. It was then somewhat shocking when Childe turned towards him and Zhongli could see his eyes watering. Not tears. Certainly not tears. Just a high crawling flush on his cheeks as he wiped at something in his eyes, surely.
Before he could say anything else, Childe had crossed the distance between them and pulled him into a tight embrace, an unspoken promise to return pressed into his hands in the form of a jade pendant as he left with little more than a hushed farewell.
Zhongli stood there, dazed for quite a while, hand clenching protectively over this unexpected gift, this unexpected contract. The thought alone nearly had something getting stuck in his eyes as well, because while he might not deserve an answer to his question, perhaps in time, he would come to earn one instead.