Monkey See, Monkey Do

There is something wrong with Zhongli.

Childe doesn't pretend to know everything about the man, but they've roomed together for half a year, and he's noticed enough. Zhongli is quiet and reserved, but he is never distant. Which he is now. Childe's brow furrows as he watches him from where he sits at the kitchenette. Zhongli is taking his tea at his desk instead.

Odd.

He should ask. It'd be the nice roommate-y thing to do, to show concern. To show Zhongli that he has seen him, and that he's come to know him enough to see a change in his habits. But, at the same time, Childe wonders if it'd be crossing a boundary.

You jerk off to him, he tells himself. In secret, of course. Zhongli doesn't know.

It's Zhongli that you think of when you bring home dudes to rail you. Easier to hide, but harder to ignore. Childe rubs at his face. Feelings are pesky, annoying things, and he hates that they leave him double-guessing every decision that he makes.

"Childe, you are staring," says Zhongli from where he sits at his computer, typing.

"I—" He almost asks. But he doesn't. "Sorry, just thinking. Wasn't intentional," he says, kicking himself.

Zhongli pauses in his work, turning to look at him. He seems exhausted, dark circles underneath his eyes, glasses slightly askew. So fucking odd. "Are you okay?" he asks Childe quietly, genuinely concerned.

Childe should be the one asking him that. "Yeah, I'm just…I guess things get awkward sometimes. Just gotta work through it."

Zhongli's mouth twitches slightly at that—amusement? "Yes, I think that I understand. Just don't overthink it."

"You too," blurts Childe, unable to stop himself. Zhongli blinks back at him, confused, that adorable furrow that he gets crinkling his brow. "I mean, you just seem…tired, I guess."

"Tired," says Zhongli softly. "Yes, I'm tired."

"Right then."

Silence stretches across the room as they sit there, awkwardly. Eventually, Zhongli turns back to his classwork and the tension eases. It isn't much, but it's something.

#

Childe knows that it is not his job to fix Zhongli, but he wants to try.

Because that's what friends do, he thinks. Because they are, right? Friends at the least. Sort-of. More than roommates he wants to think.

"Hey, do you want to study together?"

Zhongli looks up from his textbook, head cocked to the side. "Uh—"

Childe fidgets. "I mean, if you don't want to that's cool too, but I was just thinking that since I have to study too, we could—"

"Childe," cuts in Zhongli. "The thought is nice, but we do not share classes?"

Right. Zhongli is a Ph.D. student, far beyond anything that Childe's puny brain is studying. Didn't think that one through, did you? Celestia, Childe is pathetic. Or horny. He drags a hand down his face.

"I didn't mean—Look, we could just… study our own things together. You know, offer general support, or something?" Childe rubs at the back of his neck. "Okay, so maybe that's a dumb idea. Childish, or something. Forget it—"

"No," says Zhongli. He thumbs at his chin, cheeks a little pink. "I uh—it isn't a bad idea. There is something to be said about support from another." He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before moving to shuffle his books about, clearing up the other half of the table in their kitchenette.

Childe drops into the chair before he loses the courage to. "Math, today, I guess," he says, cringing.

Zhongli looks amused. "Math isn't my strong suit, but if you need help…" He clears his throat. "Well, it would be the least that I can do. Or try."

"I…okay, yeah, I'll let you know."

Why is this so fucking awkward? Childe feels like he's dancing around his first crush, too nervous to function at his bare minimum. It's Zhongli—Zhongli, for Celestia's sake. Nothing has changed much since that first slip of skin Childe was graciously treated to. Still. Childe fumbles about awkwardly as he sets out his books and papers. But as time wears on, they ease into it. They share soft chatter, and Childe pokes fun at Zhongli's field of study.

"I'm just saying—rocks."

"Rocks are the foundation of this very earth."

Well, no shit. Childe laughs, reaching out to push at his shoulder. "I'm just teasing," he says, pulling back. Zhongli huffs, but it isn't in annoyance. There's a tiny ghost of a smile on his face.

It's a start, at least.

#

Despite his efforts, it doesn't really work.

Studying together has eased some of the tension, but Zhongli is still stiff-backed and distant around him, so Childe set to work again.

Think. Childe watches him from where he sits on his top bunk. Zhongli doesn't seem to notice, hunched over his paper as he jots down notes.

"Hey, Zhongli. It's Thursday."

"An astute observation."

Childe chuckles. "Doesn't that mean that one of your classes is in the south building? Why don't we walk together?"

Zhongli pauses, pen hovering over his paper, and oh, Childe already regrets the question. But Zhongli seems unbothered, saying, "That would be nice, I think."

Oh. Childe tries not to think of the way that his heart beats a little faster. It's easy to imagine, holding his hand as they walk down the path, at ease, side-by-side—wait, no, no. Childe is only horny for his roommate. It's a crush.

Childe sighs, resting his arms against the railing of his bunk. "Who am I kidding?" he says quietly.

Zhongli looks at him then, his brow crinkled. "Childe?"

Oh shit, did he hear that?

"I—just feeling unlucky about my grades, I guess. Gotta keep them up for the scholarship."

Zhongli watches him for a moment before turning back to his schoolwork. "You aren't stupid, but there is something to be said about your work ethic."

Childe snorts at that. "You never mince your words, do you?"

Zhongli doesn't say anything, but there's that sort-of half smile that Childe has come to expect. And, of course, the warmth that floods through his chest at the sight of it.

#

Things shift with a cup of coffee.

Childe doesn't think much about it. On the way home from class one day, he picks one up for Zhongli.

"What are you doing here?"

"Has being a barista made you boil your brain along with all those coffee grounds?" Childe shoots Xiao a toothy grin. "I'm here to get coffee."

Xiao grunts. "What you order can barely be called coffee with all the sugar and syrups you add."

Not untrue. Childe loves his cinnamon dolce latte with two pumps of white mocha, extra whip, and chocolate sprinkles. The taste is divine, but not as much as the scowl it puts on Xiao's face.

"My oldest friend," said Zhongli about him once. And no, Childe isn't jealous, but he can't fathom what Zhongli sees in this gremlin of a man.

"So look—the usual, please." Xiao sneers, having already started on it. And then inspiration sparks. Childe thinks of Zhongli hunched over at this desk, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Actually…something else, too. Medium size blonde roast coffee, black. A pour over. I'm willing to wait."

Xiao pauses at that, looking at him suspiciously over the express machine. "What, for you?"

"No, for Zhongli." A pause. "That's his coffee, right? I think it is. I've seen him drink it enough."

"You know his coffee order?" For some reason, Xiao doesn't seem surprised or suspicious.

Childe scratches at his scalp. "I mean…when you're roommates you notice things, right?" He hopes that he sounds more convincing than he thinks he does.

Xiao raises an eyebrow. "I barely know my roommate's last name."

Oh. Childe swallows thickly. "Well, I mean, Zhongli is so peculiar, how can I not notice?"

"Hmm." Xiao says nothing else as he tops off his drink. He slides it across the counter. "Give me about five minutes and I'll have your peace offering ready."

"It's not—"

"Oh, come on," says Xiao with a dramatic eye roll. "Why else would you be buying him a coffee? I've seen you offer him anything out of your pocket."

"I…" Well, Xiao isn't wrong. Childe's a selfish person at his core. "Look, I don't know what it is, but lately he's just been… out of it. Distant? I mean, it's not like we were ever close, but it's noticeable which means that it can't be nothing, right?"

"Idiot," says Xiao. He watches Childe for one long, incredibly unnerving moment as he pours boiling water into the pour-over. Then he sighs, his gaze softening in a strange sort of way that makes Childe wonder if he's imagining it.

"Zhongli is an awkward man," continues Xiao as he tops off the pour with more water. "Not very good with his feelings. I'm sure that he'll appreciate the gesture, at least."

Childe smiles softly at that. "Yeah."

Xiao finishes the pour-over, transfers the coffee to a to-go cup, and slides it across the counter.

"Hey, did I get his order right?"

Xiao immediately scowls. "Go the fuck away."

Childe does just that, smiling as he leaves the cafe. The walk back to the dorm is short, but Childe takes his time, his heart already hammering. It shouldn't. It's just a cup of coffee, but something that Xiao said picks at his brain.

He'll appreciate it.

Will he? Or will Zhongli think it silly? Childe groans. "It's not like there's a boundary or anything," he says. "I mean, there isn't, right? And even if there is, haven't I skyrocketed past it by jerking off to the thought of him?"

Childe looks up at just the wrong time to see his classmate Xiangling standing there on the sidewalk, cringing back at him. "I… uh…"

"Nope! I don't want to know." Xiangling pushes past him without a second to spare.

"Archons, I'm an idiot," he says to himself, standing there in the sweltering Liyue mid-summer heat. "I'm overthinking this."

By the time he reaches their dorm, Childe has seemingly found his resolve, determined to make not a big deal of anything.

Zhongli looks up from his desk when the door slams shut. "Ah, Childe—"

Childe drops the coffee in front of him. "Figured you could use the pick-me-up," he says, plopping into a chair at the kitchenette table. "Celestia, it's hot out there." Or in here, with Zhongli paces away looking so effortlessly handsome—but who's asking, right?

Zhongli's gaze snaps to the coffee, staring.

Childe watches him as he starts to pull out his classwork. "I mean, you don't have to—"

"No, that isn't…" Zhongli chuckles softly. "I was just thinking that a coffee would be nice. It seems that you have saved me the trouble. Thank you." Childe nearly drops his textbook, surprised by the quiet sincerity of Zhongli's voice. "Childe?"

"Sorry. Hand slipped." Zhongli looks amused as he watches Childe fumble around.

Fuck me, he thinks. No, not that way. I mean, yes that way, I mean— Childe cringes.

Zhongli moves then, picking up his laptop and moving to the kitchenette instead. He sits opposite Childe, settling in, looking effortless in that damned sweater vest of his. "Childe, is there something wrong?"

Childe realizes that he's been staring. They're both tall enough to knock knees together, which leaves Childe's heart skipping a beat. "I just… is that a new sweater?" It isn't. They both know it.

Zhongli still looks down, pressing a hand against his chest. "Ah, no, but I don't think that I wear this one that often. I prefer the brown one."

Yeah, same.

"Well, I gotta…you know, study I guess." Childe turns back to his textbook, failing to focus on his math.

He misses the fond look on Zhongli's face entirely.

#

Later that night, Childe finds it impossible to sleep again, his brain working itself a mile a minute as he thinks the dirtiest things about Zhongli.

Fuck, he's pathetic. He rubs at his face, trying not to groan.

Would Zhongli fuck him, or rather be fucked? Zhongli doesn't exactly exude the energy normally seen by those who top. He's handsome, but nerdy. Probably the type who'd be like a blushing maiden in bed.

It isn't an unappealing thought. Childe certainly has his preference, and that is to be railed until next Sunday—but for Zhongli, he thinks that he might be able to make an exception. Switch things up and try something new.

His cock twitches pathetically in his boxes. Yeah, he thinks.

"I shouldn't," he murmurs, shifting slightly, his mattress creaking underneath him. But he's going to, unable to stop his hand from sliding into his boxes and wrapping around his dick. Zhongli should be asleep. He's basically a grandpa who's in bed by ten at night.

His cock fills out embarrassingly fast, mostly to the thought of Zhongli. "Shit," he whispers, pulling his hand back to lick at his palm. Not as slick as he'd prefer, but good enough to get the job done. Childe shifts again, his head tipping back against his pillow as he paws at himself.

He wonders how Zhongli would be in bed. Quiet and shy? Probably, judging by the way he is around other people. Endlessly awkward and unused to being around others, Zhongli would probably hide his face in the crook of his elbow, embarrassed.

Gods, he'd be so cute. Childe's cock twitches in his hand, dribbling precome everywhere. He spreads it around, thumbing at his slit, unable to cut off the moan that slips from his mouth.

There's a thunk from the bunk below. Sounds like Zhongli's head hitting the fucking wall. Childe freezes, fingers tight around his dick. Shit. Shit, shit, shit—

And then there's the rustling of blankets. A wet sound. A soft little hiss.

Oh. Oh. Zhongli is—

Childe swallows thickly, his heart hammering in his chest. He feels his pulse in his ears as he stares at the ceiling. This is a strange turn of events. It's one then for Childe to fucking his hand to the thoughts of his roommate, but another one entirely for Zhongli to return the favor.

Was he wrong in thinking of Zhongli's disinterest? Clearly so. All that does is fuel the lust that fills Childe's gut. Childe lets go of his cock, fumbling around for the bottle of lube. There isn't a point in being quiet if Zhongli is now an active participant.

Should he call out to him? No, that'd be weird.

Weirder than jerking off to each other? There's a first time for everything.

Childe groans when the cold lube hits his dick. He sighs when he wraps his hand around himself again, slicking up his length. He bites at his lip, still unwilling to make too much noise. As far as he's concerned, let Zhongli wonder exactly what he's up to.

Just like he wonders what's going on below. The soft squelch of Zhongli's hand over his own cock implies that he's slicked himself up as well, and the idea that Zhongli has lube hidden is funnier than it should be. But, he's a man. Surely he has needs.

Childe just didn't realize that maybe those needs included him.

Fuck, he thinks, revisiting those earlier thoughts of Zhongli spread out like a feast before him. Childe squeezes his hand tighter around himself, trying to imagine what it might feel like. He thinks that Zhongli would be so good for him, and respond so well.

But it'd be even better if Zhongli would fuck him instead, Childe pressed to the bed, crying out in pleasure.

Zhongli moans softly from below, his mattress squeaking slightly as he shifts around.

Celestia, dammit. Zhongli sounds just as he thought he might, quiet and breathy. Childe imagines the way that Zhongli would lean into him, cock thick in his ass. He'd probably be gentle in a way that Childe isn't used to. A nice change of pace. Childe has to turn his face into his pillow to hide a moan.

He moves his hand faster, sliding across his aching cock. His other hand snakes up underneath his shirt to circle a nipple, tugging at the piercing there. This time he lets the moan fly loose. This time, he doesn't hide the slap of his hand against his skin, or how his breaths come quicker.

Zhongli seems to have stopped caring as well, a breathy whine slipping from his lips.

Shit. Childe bucks into his grip, pleasure curling in his gut. The wet grip of his own hand is good, but Zhongli would be better with his long fingers and soft, moisturized skin.

Zhongli comes first from the sound of it, quiet as he tips over the edge, the slick schk schk of his hand coming to a halt. He groans softly, falling back against his mattress, the bunk shaking slightly.

It's the soft utterance of Childe's name in the aftermath that nearly does him in. Zhongli was thinking of him. It spurs Childe back to action as he moves his hand quicker, squeezing the tip of his cock tight enough on every upstroke that it nearly hurts.

"Fuck," he moans, "Fuck, I—" He comes, painting his stomach white with his spend as he bucks into his hand. It's unnecessarily noisy, but it's not as though Zhongli is unaware. Childe is beyond the point of caring this time, he just embraced the debauchery full-heartedly.

The next few moments are awkward, but not tense. They both lay in their bunks, hot and bothered, but satiated. Zhongli is the first to move, shuffling to the bathroom and closing the door quietly behind him. Of course, he'd clean up properly. Childe never does, just wiping himself off with his boxers and going to sleep commando. Which is exactly what he does.

Zhongli slips from the restroom quietly. When he reaches the bunk, he hesitates before climbing in. "I…" He snorts then, letting out an absurd-sounding chuckle. Like he can't believe it. Childe imagines the way that he rubs at his brow. "Good night, Childe."

"Yeah," says Childe, hoarsely. He stares at the ceiling, his heart beating wildly.

What the absolute fuck just happened?