He's unused to this— being in love.
And Archons above, does Childe love Zhongli. Wholly, fully and with everything that he has. He soaks up Zhongli's touch and finds his home immediately when he sinks deep into him. Childe thinks of romance novels and purpled depictions of how two halves fit together to make a whole, and he realizes that they're right.
When you find the right person everything changes.
Zhongli watches him that night with eyes that are bright. They aren't even fucking and Childe can still feel the gaze right down to his cock. It's pathetic, how it stirs at so little. One gaze from Zhongli and Childe's a goner.
They're lounging out on the open-air balcony that belongs to Zhongli's apartments. Or maybe they belong to him too; Childe isn't quite sure where to draw that line now.
Childe's things slowly crept into the space. At first a shirt here, a pair of trousers there. Then a toothbrush. Soaps and shampoos. Books and things. Then, Childe realized that he'd all but vacated his own home, having barely been back in several months. The bulk of his important things have a dedicated space in Zhongli's closet, half of which is solely his.
Zhongli actively finds decorations that will please him, bits and pieces of things that remind Childe of Snezhnaya. It's a hodgepodge of cultures now and Childe loves it.
And him.
Zhongli holds a book in his hand, gently propped open against his palm as he follows the words with a finger. Childe watches him for long enough that he notices. Zhongli looks up and his mouth quirks, the barest hint of a grin.
Childe leans over without a second thought, plucking the book from his hands. Here, in this private space, there isn't a need for gloves, and Childe grasps at black and gold, glowing skin. Presses kisses to Zhongli's knuckles as he nuzzles the back of his palm. He loves seeing him like this, open and bare. Comfortable to show this side of himself.
And more, at times. Trust doesn't come easily to Childe, but with Zhongli it's implicit.
Zhongli opens up to him easily. Spreads his legs wide as he leans back against the soft couch. When Childe leans over him, Zhongli wraps his hands around his middle. Tips his face up and presses his nose into the nape of Childe's neck. Closes his eyes and inhales deeply.
And then he purrs, a low grumble deep in his chest.
Damn dragons and their weird behaviors. Makes Childe's cock fill pathetically, already half-hard against his thigh and tenting his pants. He hasn't even gotten his hands on him yet.
Zhongli knows. His mouth curves as his hand slides downward, cupping Childe's erection with an amused glance. Childe groans in response, his head hanging as his eyes tip closed.
"We've already done this today," says Zhongli, teasing. He does that more and more, as of late, having fallen into being mortal with surprising ease. Retirement does wonders to a man.
They fucked earlier, before they'd left their bed, swathed in the soft morning light as it filtered in through the window. Quick and hurried because they both had work, but nevertheless soulful. Childe sighs at the thought of it, how good Zhongli had looked and how well he'd responded, even when still waking up.
"Can you blame me?" he asks, his hands smoothing down Zhongli's sides. "I'm a simple man."
"Clearly, if all it takes is a look."
Childe reaches up and catches Zhongli's chin, thumbing across his bottom lip. "It isn't the look you know, it's you. Always an utter fool for you."
It takes no effort for Zhongli to change their positions, pressing Childe back into the couch instead. Childe happily follows, head against the sofa, his neck cradled by the cushion. Zhongli settles over his lap, knees planted wide around his hips and arms around his neck.
"'A fool' he says. What of the God who turned mortal for you?"
Childe laughs, pulling at a tendril of Zhongli's hair. It's down and free from its usual binding, pooling over his shoulder. "Don't pretend that it was for me. You didn't even know me when you planned all that."
"No, but priorities change, I've learned. As does the end result." Zhongli says it softly but easily, his eyes alight at the idea.
Childe sighs as he presses a hand against his cheek. "Will I ever get to know?" Zhongli's contract and what he augmented. What exactly was bargained to keep Childe here and at Zhongli's side, instead of going back home.
"One day," says Zhongli, his answer every time he's asked. "No matter, though. There are other things I'd rather talk about."
"I'd rather not talk at all."
Zhongli kisses him, a sweet and relaxed thing. It lacks the bite their love-making often has; the result of a Harbinger and Dragon trying to pull each other apart. As of late, though, it's been like this more and more often. Soft and indulgent, where they just sink into the feel of each other. The rest of the world just melts away, and they're left alone in the grasp of the other.
Fuck, Childe loves it.
Zhongli nips at his mouth, a loving bite, pulling him from his thoughts. Childe kisses back, changing the angle and tongue swiping across Zhongli's lips. His hands grip Zhongli's ass, pulling his hips closer and it takes no effort to grind their cocks together.
Zhongli hisses into his mouth and Childe swallows it down before pulling away to suck a mark into his neck. "Childe," he murmurs, fingers scratching at the fine hair near the base of his neck, nails sharp as they rake across his skin.
"No," says Childe, kissing across the length of his jaw. Zhongli's head falls back, showing off the length of his neck, and Childe sighs into it.
Zhongli pulls back slightly to scratch through his hair instead, combing through the curling locks. It's almost more intimate than the sex itself, this quiet, domesticated act. Zhongli practically purrs at the sight of him, and Childe's eyes slip closed as he sinks into the feel of his fingers.
"Ajax," says Zhongli instead, his expression warm and loving, and Childe's heart nearly stops.
"Archons, I love you," he blurts, his face dropping top rest against Zhongli's sternum. It's not like it's a first-time confession; he says it all the time. But Zhongli smiles at him all the same and leans forward and presses a kiss to the crown of his head.
And they stay like that for several minutes, just resting there, wrapped around each other. Soaking up the touch in the quiet night as Zhongli scratches through his hair. Childe could fall asleep like this, nestled so well against him, but—
Well, he has a more urgent matter currently tucked into his trousers in a not-so-comfortable way. Eventually Childe grunts, his legs shifting and Zhongli chuckles into his hair before his hand drops to unclasp the fly.
Their clothes come off in a lazy, unhurried way. Childe's fingers linger as they stroke across Zhongli's skin, taking in the smooth softness of what he has to offer. Like his long cock, drooling at the tip and begging to be touched.
When Childe takes hold of him, Zhongli moans, pressing his hips into his palm for better friction. "Careful there, Xiansheng," he says in a tease, "Might make me think that you're a little desperate."
"No," says Zhongli, and it takes Childe a second to realize that he's mimicking his earlier request. No titles or teases in moments like this. He much prefers to be called—
"Zhongli," murmurs Childe into the column of his neck instead, licking at the juncture there. Across the collarbone and down his chest before swirling around a nipple.
When Zhongli hovers over his lap like this, he's the perfect height to reach, and Childe sucks at the nub until it's pebbled and standing straight. He thumbs over the other, giving it equal attention, all as he keeps a steady grip on Zhongli's cock.
Zhongli's breath hitches and he scrabbles against him, trying to find purchase somewhere and hang on. Too many sensations, too many things going on. Childe plays with him sweetly, but it's only just enough to barely keep him at the edge. Which is by design.
Childe's hand moves from Zhongli's chest down the line of his sharp hips, squeezing at the skin there. Then around to the swell of his ass. He can feel the way that Zhongli's cock twitches in his hand as Childe's fingers ghost his hole, just barely circling over the rim but not quite dipping in.
"You should come first," he says to him, nibbling at Zhongli's chest, sucking marks there too, reddened little things that won't last long. But Childe can dream, and it's a pretty sight that he imagines. "All over my hands before I take you."
"Ajax," says Zhongli, the word a small huff.
"I love to watch you as you do, you know. Tip over the edge, looking so pretty and—"
"Ajax."
Childe knows that tone and smiles against Zhongli's skin. His fingers press back to his hole to tug at his rim properly this time, testing its give. "Still ready for me," he whispers against him, "Still loose and a little bit slick. So perfect."
He slicks his fingers easily with his Hydro and slips one in. It sinks right to the last knuckle.
"Ah—"
"Gods." Childe nearly curses, feeling the tight, warm heat of him. Even though he knows what it feels like, knows exactly how it is to have Zhongli stretched wide around his cock, it's always amazing. Earth-shattering. Life-changing.
There's a lot to be said about love, he supposes.
Childe knows that Zhongli's too impatient to eke out more than one orgasm, so he shifts his hips closer. Slicks up his own cock and prods Zhongli's hole with the tip. It's Zhongli that takes the initiative, leaning back and sinking down onto him. Taking him right to the hilt without pause.
Zhongli keens, his hand dragging down Childe's front before curling near his belly, combing through the soft hair there.
"Fuck," Childe hisses, his hands immediately finding Zhongli's hips.
Despite their earlier romp, Zhongli's ass is still like a vice grip around him. Practically sucks his cock right in. Childe fucks gently into his heat, small, punctuated little thrusts that are meant to drag this out for as long as possible.
Zhongli whines, trying to get him to move faster, but Childe won't. "Shh," he soothes, running a hand through Zhongli's hair, "Let's indulge."
"We did this morning," says Zhongli, his tone clipped.
"Quicker than we wanted because we had work. But now? We have all the time in the world, and I want to enjoy you."
Zhongli sighs at that, his hips stuttering slightly as Childe drives his cock in the entire way, nestled deeply into his ass. Grinds against him, pressing into his insides in a way that makes them both feel it down to their toes. Slow and thoughtful, languid and savoring.
Childe relishes the feel of Zhongli in every way; the tightness of his hole, the way Zhongli's fingers tug at the roots of his hair, the soft little whimpers that loose from his lips. How his eyes have tipped closed, his expression slightly pinched.
"So beautiful," says Childe, reaching up to brush his bangs back. Zhongli's flushed and his eyes wild-looking, pupils blown wide.
They move at an unhurried pace. Childe fucks into Zhongli deeply and thoroughly as he holds him by the ass and guides his movements. Zhongli rises up on his knees and falls with gravity. And it isn't easy, they both want to move faster and harder.
But there's something to be said for the lethargic love-making at hand, and Zhongli eventually gives in as he leans forward and plasters himself against Childe, arms tight around his neck.
"Yeah," says Childe, kissing where Zhongli's throat bobs, "There we go, just like that."
"Ajax, please, just—"
Childe shifts his hips, changing the angle and Zhongli cries out. "There?" he asks cheekily, already knowing the answer.
Zhongli's fingers tighten against him, leaving red little crescents in their wake. "Yes, yes—"
Childe picks up the pace and fucks into him faster. Can't help it and neither can Zhongli. Slow and steady is nice— so nice— but they've tipped too far and can't look back. Childe guides him along, helping Zhongli rise and fall against him. Feels the way that pleasure seeps into his gut and starts to coil tight.
"So tight," he murmurs against Zhongli, pressing their foreheads together. They stay like that, close and utterly interconnected. "So warm and tight, and wet, and—"
"Fuck, Ajax—"
Oh, the praise must be working wonders, thinks Childe. Zhongli curses occasionally, but he doesn't often lose his composure in this sort of way. It's usually when he's face down in their bed, overstimulated after being edged over and over, Childe driving into him from behind.
"Perfect," says Childe, knocking their noses together, seeking out another kiss. "So perfect for me," he whispers against Zhongli's lips when he gets it. Zhongli tastes the praise and eats it right up, his ass clenching tight around Childe's cock.
Zhongli picks up the pace. Shudders against Childe as he pulls his hips up and slams them down quick, taking his cock deeper and deeper and deeper on every downstroke.
"Gods," says Childe, pulling at his ass, helping him along, yanking his hips up, and pulling him back down with force. "I love you—"
"Yes, yes, Ajax, I—" The rest is lost in a choked moan as Childe thrusts right into his prostate. He keeps the perfect angle, fucking into Zhongli with renewed vigor. And even though it's harder and faster, even though Zhongli looks entirely debauched, his cheeks ruddy and eyes tearing up, it's no less loving than it was before.
Childe comes first, thrusting in as deep as he can go, pulling Zhongli down into his cock and holding him there. His dick sits there, balls deep in Zhongli's ass as his insides writhe against him.
Zhongli hasn't come yet though, crying out as Childe spends himself inside, filling him up. Zhongli pulls Childe close, mashing their chests together, flinging his arms around his neck as his fingers stroke through Childe's hair. Childe moans, grinding into him gently in the aftermath of it, coming down from the high of his orgasm.
He snakes a hand between them, grasping at Zhongli's cock, palming his length. Zhongli keens, his ass tightening even more, wringing whatever little is left in Childe's dick.
"Fuck," murmurs Childe into the sweaty nape of Zhongli's neck. "Come on, baby, you can—"
"Mate," says Zhongli suddenly, a new word that strikes right through Childe's core. Zhongli has never said it, never expressed it, but it thrums with power. Sizzles all the way down Childe's spine as Zhongli nuzzles his neck, licking the skin there. The pressure in the room changes, the air growing thick with Geo.
Childe has never thought a person could feel a word deep in their core. Until now.
"My mate," says Zhongli again, biting at Childe's neck gently in subtle promise.
Childe swallows thickly, wondering just how punch-drunk Zhongli is the haze of their intimacy. Zhongli keeps grinding against him, circling his hips, keeping the pressure of Childe's cock heavy against his prostate. Childe slips a between Zhongli's crack to where they're connected, feeling his puffed rim where it's stretched wide. Childe jerks Zhongli's cock with the other, his fingers slick across his length.
And oh, the title does things to him, his cock stirring again, but Childe's too tired and knows he won't get another one out, so he focuses on Zhongli instead. Zhongli watches him through narrowly-slit eyes that glow golden. He bites at his lip, fucking into Childe's hand, and then finally, Zhongli crests the wave.
Practically howls when he does, coming all over Childe's hand, his spend thick and viscous.
Childe can feel how heady the room is, can see how Zhongli's nearly lost himself to his lust. Or love, or whatever. Childe lifts his soiled hand and licks Zhongli's come off it, and Zhongli watches, hyper-aware. Moaning as he watches.
Fuck, thinks Childe, basking in the afterglow, the salty tang of Zhongli's come coating his tongue as he licks his hand clean.
It takes a moment for reality to come back to them. They're sweaty and clammy, and Childe's breathing heavily. Zhongli's eyes are bright with embarrassment as he shoves his face into his hands, realizing exactly what he's said.
"Zhongli," says Childe, reaching out to grasp his wrist.
"I—"
"Shh," soothes Childe, pulling him close and tucking his face into the crook of his neck.
Eventually they part, Childe carefully pulling himself out. Zhongli lets out another embarrassed sound at the mess they've made, but Childe dutifully wipes them down and cleans everything up. Zhongli is always quiet, but the aftermath is strangely tense when it shouldn't be.
It isn't until later, when they're tucked into their bed and comfortable blankets, that Zhongli finally says something. "Ajax," he starts, "About the… uh—" It's so weird to hear him so inarticulate and uncertain.
"I loved it," cuts in Childe. Zhongli rests against his chest, his cheek pressed against him. He looks up and Childe looks down, and they meet gazes. "Oh don't— are you really surprised?"
Zhongli's expression is a little pursed. "It wasn't just play, Childe. That isn't a word that's just thrown around, it's the most base of my instincts—"
"I know." Well, no, not really. Not entirely. But Childe isn't dumb and Zhongli doesn't say things he doesn't mean, even in bed. And certainly not with that tone. The one where everything else is gone and Zhongli sees one thing, and one thing only. Childe runs his fingers through Zhongli's hair which is tangled. He sighs as he presses his lips against Zhongli's forehead.
They'll talk about it later, no doubt. Probably at the worst time.
There's another long, quiet moment and then Childe says, "I'm thinking of getting rid of my apartment."
Zhongli's mouth opens and he pauses. Then, his brow furrows and he looks confused. "Do you not live here? I mean, that is to say, you live here with me, why would you need—"
Childe bursts into laughter, pressing his nose into the crown of Zhongli's head. Of course, he thinks.
So, maybe they're both idiots. Ekaterina's only told him that time and time again.
#
Another night, later that week, Zhongli comes to him with a brush and a request.
"Brush my hair out for me?" he asks. Childe blinks in surprise, as he's never been asked this. But he agrees, scooting back on the bed for Zhongli to have space to settle in.
He's touched his hair before, of course. Played with it, tugged on it, even yanked on it in the throws of passion, but this is something that's just so… strangely wholesome. Domestic. It's something that—
"This is the sort of thing a mate does," says Zhongli quietly, during the first drag of the boar-bristle brush in Childe's hand. Childe stills, pausing briefly in surprise, but then he resumes, tugging at the tangles gently. "Intimacy is part of it, of course. The way that we lose ourselves in each other, but the duty of a mate is more than that. You must take care of the other, even small things such as this."
"I love your hair," says Childe, pulling the brush through it, over and over. It's thin and silk-straight. Soft underneath Childe's fingers. He loves to comb them through it any chance that he can get.
"Ajax—"
"And I love you."
Zhongli sighs, and even though Childe can't see it, he can imagine that furrowed line tucked between his brows. Zhongli's thinking face. "It's more than love," he says softly, "It's a matter of completion. And I feel that with you, I cannot be without you. It's… hard to describe."
Childe thinks that it makes perfect sense. "The chopsticks," he reminds him.
"Ah." Zhongli chuckles. "Well, there are those."
"I mean, I paid for the damn things—"
"Unknowing of the gesture."
"But I know now, and they sit on the bedside table where they are the second thing I see in the morning, and the second-to-last thing I see at night." Childe pauses in his brushing and reaches around to tip Zhongli's face towards his.
"Do you feel hesitation about it? With me?"
Zhongli looks almost offended. "What? Of course not—"
"Then I accept." Childe then makes a face. "I assume that was a proposal of a sort, at least. Another one. What do you call it when you ask someone to be your—"
Zhongli kisses him. Reaches up and gently cups his face, coaxing his mouth open to lick right in. It isn't the start of anything; Childe knows it's too late for that, and they're too tired, but he responds eagerly, his free hand curling into the soft cotton of Zhongli's sleep shirt.
"Mate," says Childe against his lips, testing the word. Not bad— certainly good— but it probably doesn't settle in his gut the same way that it does Zhongli's. And the way that he looks at him; oh, Childe can now die a happy man.
"I love you," says Zhongli. He doesn't say it aloud often, showing his love in other ways but when he does, words can't describe the feelings that arise within Childe's heart.
Childe kisses him again, slower and sweeter. Then, he pulls away, turns Zhongli's to face forward, and resumes his brushing. "You know, Xiangling once told me something about one thousand strokes for healthy hair."
"One hundred," corrects Zhongli with an amused huff, "On each side."
"Either way— One. Two. Three—"
"It will take a long while if you count each stroke." And truthfully, Zhongli's hair is no longer tangled, pooling around his shoulders in a nice and neat line. Childe smooths his fingers down the strands and then across his shoulders. A simple and easy touch. The kind that husbands give each other.
"I have all the time in the world," says Childe into his ear, pressing a kiss there. Then, back to work. "Four. Five. Six…"