CW: Mentions of Erosion and some angst.

There is so much that he doesn't remember.

Fleeting memories of bygone ages. Shadows of wars and ancient beings. Everything feels like a jumbled mess in his brain as his mind slowly, slowly slips away from him.

Zhongli didn't used mind, accepting it as fact. He's seen so many fall to it, he's had to put others out of their misery to end the pain. Friends and foe alike. He'd thought retirement would suit him, preparing for his own fall. At least now he can't harm Liyue.

Erosion, he once told Childe, the first time he'd explained it.

No, said Childe in that moment, No, I won't let it. Not when we've just found ourselves.

Zhongli chuckles softly as he watches the land. For all the years that have passed, the Wangshu Inn has remained stubbornly persistent.

There's a ghost of a memory here, something that tugs at the corners of his mind. An old friend who used to live on this floor. The taste of Almond Tofu, and quiet lunches he once shared with them. Zhongli doesn't remember a face, but rather a feeling of comfort. Camaraderie. Responsibility. The name sits there, just on the tip of his tongue, but endless white noise is all that follows.

If he keeps thinking, though, if he tries— he just might remember.

Zhongli wishes he hadn't lost this one, as it feels important. He sighs as he tries to sort his thoughts.

But as he often does, he fails.

#

He dreams of Childe's touch, as he usually does.

There is so little that Zhongli can cling onto, but this is the one thing he doesn't want to lose. There is remorse for whatever he loses, but when it comes to Childe, there is nothing else. The moment Childe is gone, is the moment Zhongli will cease to be.

And so he sinks into the thought of it, drifting in the hazy memory of Childe's hands as they ghost along his skin. The way he knows just where to touch and what to say, how Zhongli can come just by rutting against his thigh.

Or even at the sight of him, Childe's eyes bright blue in the dark room, and that devilish smirk that so often quirks his mouth. The soft freckles that dot his cheeks and the wild, unruly curls that crown his head.

Zhongli clings to this memory like a man adrift at sea, just about to slip undertow. Sighs as he imagines Childe's hand around his cock, squeezing. How Childe might nibble at his neck and break him free from the hazed fog of his mind.

When he slips this time, it's not into forgotten space, it's into keening want, so perfectly memorized. Zhongli willingly drowns in whatever Childe has left to offer him.

#

Zhongli awakens, shivering and cold. Hiccuping as he tries to suck in air. He reaches out blindly, his hand searching the silk sheets, but he can't find him, Childe's gone, he's—

"Shh, I'm right here," says Childe near his ear, immediately curling around Zhongli and pulling him close.

Zhongli's eyes slipped closed as he forces himself to breathe. Presses his face into the familiar warmth of Childe's chest. Counts his heartbeats; One, two three, and waits. Childe is still there, murmuring against him, nuzzling his nose into his hair. And Zhongli stills knows him.

When he looks, Childe is watching him sleepily. He always wakes when Zhongli does. Instinctual, said Childe once, I just know.

Zhongli loves waking to him, even in the throes of a nightmare. And oh, how the decades have been good to him. Childe is past his middling years, just barely passing into what mortals would consider older. Zhongli refuses to count.

Distinguished, says Childe often, and usually with a pout. Distinguished indeed, with the softness of his figure, and the wrinkles around his face. The salted ginger of his hair, silver threads glinting in the low light of their room.

It fuels the lust within Zhongli more than he'd like to admit, so he turns over to keep himself from looking. Childe only tugs him closer, resting his face against the back of his neck.

His dream was so good, so real, but then it'd changed and turned into something worse. Left Zhongli aching with want and without completion, his cock hard against his thigh. His adrenaline runs high and his body is on fire.

Childe soothes him, running his hands along his side. "What happened?" he asks him, his voice quiet and caring. He's always so patient with him, always so willing to walk Zhongli through this. Zhongli wonders, sometimes. Feels guilty. Childe asked for his love all those decades ago; not for him to have to watch his inevitable undoing.

He's remained a constant variable at his side, despite that.

And it pains Childe, Zhongli knows this. He sees the hurt on his face every time Zhongli forgets another thing. And yet.

"Earlier today," murmurs Zhongli, "I was watching the world from the balcony."

Childe hums as his hands slides around to Zhongli's front, fingers splaying wide against his stomach before resting there.

"And I almost remembered. It was on the tip of my tongue, the name of one who used to live here."

"Xiao," says Childe against the base of his skull, nuzzling Zhongli's hair and inhaling deeply.

"We… would share Almond Tofu."

Childe chuckles, his breath soft against Zhongli. "He hated that he liked me. Hated that he wasn't me, that he couldn't be like this with you—"

"I dreamt that I lost you," says Zhongli suddenly. It's a persistent fear, one that haunts both of them. And Childe knows it too, that feeling of being pulled under. He deals with his own darkness, the threat of the Abyss that still wishes to consume him.

What a pair they make.

Childe stills against him, sighing against his shoulder. Then, he presses a kiss there, his lips lingering. "You haven't," he says, "And you won't."

"I'm going to." His voice is so quiet, so soft. It's inevitable. "One day. Childe, I'm going to—"

"You won't," says Childe, fervent in his words. He breathes them as he lives by them, tattoos them into Zhongli's skin. His hand slips lower, his fingers dipping just into the soft cotton of Zhongli's sleep pants, combing through the coarse hair there.

"Ajax—"

"I'll remind you," says Childe as he presses closer, "Every day. I'll share stories with you over breakfast, and I'll take you to all our favorite places. I already remind you of the others, and I'll keep doing it until the end."

Zhongli whines as Childe pulls him back by the hips, slotting his groin against Zhongli's ass. Childe is hard against him, and Zhongli groans at the thought of indulging.

"And then, at night," continues Childe, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I'll fuck these memories back into you. I'll make love to you time and time again until it's all you can think of, all that you can remember."

Oh, those dirty words sink right to his gut, and Zhongli's cock is hard again. This is so much better than his wistful dream that never saw fruition. Childe's hands are warm against him as he touches with gentle reverence.

Childe paws at his trousers and yanks them down, revealing the round swell of Zhongli's pert ass. Runs a hand along the length of it as he chuckles against his neck, licking a stripe along the skin there. "I'll never get tired of this," he says, biting at the shell of Zhongli's ear, the blunted edges of his teeth bruising.

Zhongli gasps when Childe slips his cock between plush thighs. He's hard and scalding to the touch, the tip slick with precome. Childe ruts into the warm space between Zhongli's legs, sighing as his head dips forwards to rest against his shoulder.

He likes it like this, on their sides, where Childe can pull him close and they lose nothing of each other. Zhongli is hyper-aware as he feels Childe all around him, encasing him entirely with nothing but his loving presence.

He can't forget this, he won't. Zhongli would sooner end himself.

Childe pauses and spits into his hand to slick up his cock a little more properly. Sinks back between Zhongli's thighs and gasps when the tip of his cock nudges Zhongli's balls. The stimulation is intoxicating. He presses back, meeting him, delighting in the soft intimacy of something so simple.

"Ajax," he murmurs softly as Childe thumbs over a nipple, pulling and pinching at it. "Ah—"

"Listen to you." Childe fucks into his thighs with a little more force, and Zhongli sinks into the pleasure that pools in his gut. It won't be enough, but it's good, it's still so good, and he wants to drown in it until there's nothing left.

Childe's precome coats the insides of his thighs. His fingers tug at Zhongli's nipple, rolling it gently until it's standing proud. Zhongli sounds gone, moaning softly as he fucks back against him, Childe's cock just barely catching his hole, a tease of no doubt what's to come.

"Easy," says Childe, holding his hips firm. "Easy there, just let me enjoy you."

"Please," Zhongli whispers, the word ending in a breathy sigh.

Childe huffs before sucking at the base of his neck, intent on leaving a mark that'll last for days. A perk of no longer being an Archon; Childe can leave evidence of his love all over him. Sometimes, Zhongli begs for it.

"Needy," murmurs Childe, shifting to lean over him, finding the oil in a nearby drawer.

Yes, thinks Zhongli, always. He needs Childe like he needs food and water, and Childe is the same in return. Soaks Zhongli right up as he pulls him close. Slathers him with love and praise as he fucks his length into the tight pocket of his thighs.

Childe slicks his fingers up and pulls his hips back. Spreads Zhongli's ass and thumbs over the furled rim of his hole. Zhongli groans in anticipation as Childe circles around it, just barely dipping his thumb in.

"Ajax," he says, "Please—"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, pressing his thumb in, testing his tightness, teasing his hole. He pulls at Zhongli's rim gently, and the stinging pressure is enough to sizzle pleasure right down into his bones.

"Gods," murmurs Zhongli, a hissing cry as Childe's pulls his thumb out and slips back in with two fingers instead. It's electrifying, the way that he spreads them, how he tugs at his rim. Long and thin, but they still fill him up, they still twist so deliciously within him, and then—

Zhongli moans loudly, burrowing his face into his soft pillow. Childe kisses his shoulder, digging his fingers in deeper, pressing against his prostate harder and faster. "Zhongli, what do you want?"

Oh, so many things, thinks Zhongli.

"I… I—" Zhongli's mind fogs as the pleasure within him builds. It twists and turns and curls, it settles in his gut, and he realizes that no dream is as good as this, or as real. Childe, flush against him, fingers fucking deliciously into his ass. The way that Zhongli can feel his cock, firm against the back of his thigh. The soft sounds that Childe makes, and the dirty praise that he whispers into his skin.

Childe joked about fucking his memories back into him, but Zhongli thinks that perhaps, just maybe, he might not actually lose them if they're this intertwined.

"I want to see you," says Zhongli, a soft murmur into the sheets, "Make love to me and brand it into my soul so that I never forget."

Childe's hand stills. He pulls his fingers out and sighs. Then there's a soft sob against the meat of Zhongli's shoulder. "Archons, I love you," he says, kissing the skin there. Lingering as he collects himself.

Zhongli's heart melts for this man, he's so unbearably lucky and blessed. Childe flips him onto his back and settles over him. Grasps Zhongli's hand and pulls it to his mouth. Kisses his wedding ring.

"My biggest fear isn't waking up to you not knowing who I am," he says, "It's you waking up and not remembering that you married me. That Childe is just a fleeting memory, and not the man who sits beside you. Forgetting all these years we've spent together. But even if you didn't recognize me, I'd find so much love in just watching you remember, even without me."

"Oh, Ajax," says Zhongli softly. He reaches up and cups Childe's face, smoothing his thumbs across his cheeks. Then he pulls him down for a sweet kiss. Zhongli knows that Erosion is inevitable; it's borne by his blood as an adeptus.

But there isn't a possibility that he would ever forget a love like this, that he could forget Childe's face, perhaps, and maybe his name. The feel of it, the emotions. How Childe feels wrapped around him, or when his cock is nestled deep into his ass. Those breathy moans against his neck as he loses himself in Zhongli—

Zhongli will always know this, it'll always be familiar to him. It'll always be like coming home when he's lost and adrift in his memories, an infallible anchor.

Childe kisses him eagerly, his tongue licking across the seam of his mouth. Zhongli opens up and invites him in. The rest of their clothing comes off and a series of awkward, inarticulate movements, mostly because Childe doesn't want to pull away.

He looks at Zhongli like he's hung the moon, his eyes creased and aged as he watches him fondly. Smooths his knuckles across his cheek, and Zhongli too, turns and kisses his wedding ring.

"There are pictures, you know," he says to Childe. "I don't think I'd forget I married you if there's proof of it."

Childe chuckles as he hangs over him. "Then we'll look at them together. I'll remind you just how drunk Venti got, and how fell asleep in the fountain."

Zhongli's brow furrows, his mind stretching. Venti, he thinks, but nothing comes. And Childe sees it, the way that he tries to remember. He sighs softly and presses a kiss to his temple. "Later," he says, "I'll pull out the album. For now—"

He pulls hips closer and wraps his legs around his waist. Zhongli drags a hand down Childe's front, delighting in the softness that he's gained in his older age. Childe hates it, but Zhongli loves it because it means that he's survived.

The rest of the Harbingers did not.

Childe sinks into him with a torturously slow pace, leaving Zhongli to arch against him and beg for more. "Shh," he says, rubbing circles into his hips as he slowly bottoms out, "Let's take it slow, let's enjoy this."

Zhongli would still enjoy it if he were fucked into the mattress within an inch of what's left of his life, but he decides to let Childe indulge. He tightens his legs around his waist as Childe starts rolling his hips at a leisurely pace. Slow and smooth, indulgent in the way that he grasps at him.

It's so easy to fall into the routine of this, and Zhongli sinks into the bed, his eyes tipping closed as he loses himself entirely. The fullness of Childe's cock; the way that he grasps at his legs; his fingers digging into Zhongli's skin, pulling at it.

Childe presses his thighs back to fuck into him deeper. Drops a hand to where they're connected and watches as he slides in and out. Zhongli moans, loving the way that he looks, loving the adoration that finds his face.

"Ajax," he says, snaking a hand around his head, fingers sinking deep into his auburn curls.

There's another part of erosion so rarely talked about— it isn't just the breaking down of the mind, it's the breaking down of one's entire being. With every day, Zhongli wakes to find it harder to hold on to himself. Those older parts of him, the darker and feral ones, that which isn't nearly as human fight its way to the top.

Zhongli loses his grip slightly, Geo swirling around them. The air grows heavy and thick, and Childe's hips stutter at the sight of it.

"Oh," he murmurs, his cheeks growing flushed as he cracks a grin. He always loves this, when he fucks Zhongli so well he loses all reality. "Oh," he says again, licking his lips as he thrusts harder.

Zhongli arches back into the bed, fingers scratching across Childe's skin. He keens as he bursts, fingers blackening, and glittering lines of gold create latticeworks across his arms. He's so lost, entirely debauched, head swirling as the only things that he can think of are how well Childe's cock fills him, and how much he loves him.

"Beautiful," Childe says, leaning closer and tucking his face into the crook of Zhongli's neck. His tongue snakes out, licking at the sweat there, and Zhongli clenches around him.

"You feel— Ajax." His name comes out punched and guttural, Zhongli's voice deep and gravelly. He clings to Childe's arms, nails digging pink lines into the meat of them. "So good," he whimpers, raising his hips to meet his thrusts, eagerly responding to everything that Childe gives him. "So good, so, ngh—"

Childe leans back and hikes Zhongli's legs over his shoulders to hit a new angle. Fucks directly into that blessed bundle of nerves, wringing a wanton cry from Zhongli's mouth. Curls a hand around his cock and tugs at it fast. His calloused palm sweeps across the crown of Zhongli's dick, and his eyes roll back as his fingers sink into the sheets instead.

How wrong he was to think he could ever forget this, forget him. Childe is one half to his whole, and one can never truly lose themselves. Not even adepti in the throes of their eventual breakdown.

Childe is so intrinsically a part of Zhongli that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Childe holds his cock in one hand and grabs his hand with the other. Ruts into Zhongli as he presses a kiss to his ring again, just holding his mouth there. Relishing in it as he mouths at his knuckles; that blessed memory, the here and the now, everything that Zhongli is, and what they are together.

Childe comes first. His movements lose their smooth cadence as he rocks in deep, his cock thick in Zhongli's gut, and spends himself with a shout. He keeps grinding, his length tucked against Zhongli's prostate. Childe jerks at his cock, pulling him over the edge with him.

Zhongli finally comes in a searing, white-hot mess, and mumbled curses. His mind blanks as he thinks of nothing else. His legs tense around Childe, who gasps weakly as he slowly rides that tide until it lessens into a gentler flow.

"Hah," groans Childe as he leans back and pulls out. He spreads Zhongli's asscheeks wide to look at his loosened hole, slick with cum and oil. Swallows thickly as he uses a thumb to press whatever's leaking right back in.

Zhongli moans again, hiding his embarrassed face in the crook of his elbow.

"Gods." Childe looks suddenly his age, weary and tired as he stretches out his back. He moves to start the clean-up, but Zhongli reaches out to stop him.

"Just come back to bed," he says, already nestled into the sheets, uncaring of the mess they've made.

Childe sighs softly, a complacent look finding a home his face. He settles back into the sheets, pulling Zhongli close and plastering himself against his back. They're sweaty and covered in come, but neither cares. Zhongli just floats delightfully in the pungent afterglow of their lovemaking.

"I love you," says Childe, kissing the back of his neck. Pressing his nose there as he inhales deeply. Zhongli clings to the arm that's wrapped around his middle. "I love you, and that's why I won't let you forget. I can't. Zhongli, without you, I can't—"

"It'll be okay." Zhongli's voice is so soft it's nearly lost in the soft silk. He says it and he means it, and if there's anything he's learned in his lone life, it's that there are always exceptions. "Xiao shoved off his karmic debt for far longer than anyone thought possible."

He isn't sure where the thought comes from. He has no idea what he's talking about, but Zhongli knows that's correct.

Childe sobs again, a not-quite cry. Partially a chuckle, like he can't believe it. "The things that you do remember," he murmurs quietly.

"Regardless, there is time. We have right now. And I have you."

Childe sighs against his neck. Kisses him there, over and over again. Whispers hushed words of love and praise as though he's trying to remind himself of it. Even when stone crumbles, there's rubble left in its wake. Childe will always be there to pick up his broken pieces.

It's a quiet night in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Zhongli soaks up Childe's warmth as his breathing evens out. He thinks of the future and thinks of the past as well, but nothing compares to the moment in hand.

How nice, thinks Zhongli.