The entire point of running away to Liyue was to throw away his complicated past and settle into something easier.
Of course, being shit poor isn't easy, but here, at least, Childe can make his own decisions. Even if they're dumb ones made on the fly because indulgence is a problem when a certain man is involved.
Zhongli requests him as a delivery driver the next day as though nothing happened between them. As though Childe hadn't invited him into his shitty apartment, and Zhongli hadn't sucked his soul right through the tip of his dick. It's a sight seared into his memory. Every time he closes his eyes, it's all he sees, Zhongli's face painted with his come. The way that he slid his fingers through it before licking them clean—
No, no, not right now.
Childe shouldn't even be logged into his delivery app, but he reset his work radius to whatever is within walking distance because even shitty tips are better than no tips at all. His thumb wavers over the notification, hesitating. He can turn it down.
He does not. Instead, he accepts and opens up the messaging portion.
[Childe]: Did u forget last night and how my bike was stolen
So, not entirely professional, but neither is letting a customer suck you off. Three little dots wriggle on the screen as Zhongli types a response.
[Lapis, Z]: I don't think that I could possibly forget last night, Childe.
Oh, oh, that's bad. Childe licks his lip and ignores the way that his dick twitches in his trousers. Those dots appear once more as Zhongli continues on.
[Lapis, Z]: It is the usual delivery, and I would prefer that it be you. You're nothing but reliable, which is a rare delight nowadays. Not to mention we've built a rapport and I like my routine. There is no need to be quick about it, and I am happy to call a ride share for you, if necessary. Plus, of course, I will give a tip well worth your while.
Childe knows Zhongli too well to think it's an actual innuendo, but the dramatic fucking irony isn't entirely lost. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks. "For fuck's sake," he murmurs with a sigh. "He probably has no idea just what that sounds like."
Because all Childe can think of is, potentially, the tip of Zhongli's cock doing terribly, terribly wonderful things.
"Bills," he tells himself, "I've got bills to pay." Even if he'd rather get laid. Especially if he'd rather do the laying with Zhongli. But— "How can he be so casual about this?" Childe wonders if his initial thoughts of Zhongli being prudish have been wrong the entire time. He didn't seem like the sort to randomly fuck around, but he'd latched onto Childe easily enough.
It's because they're friends, then. Kind of. They shared dinner, so that makes them buds in a weird parasocial sort of way. There's nothing wrong with wanting to indulge in spur-of-the-moment wants and needs.
Didn't feel so in the moment, though, upon reflection.
You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, said Zhongli the night before while lapping at his cock. How I've dreamed about you.
Yeah, Childe too, which is maybe why he should nip this in the bud. Childe, though, does nothing but make stupid decisions.
[Childe]: ill walk its all gud
#
"A little late, today, huh?" Xiangling drops his order on the counter and staples the receipt to the handles.
Childe offers her a genuine smile, not the rapscallion thing he uses to garner better tips. "My bike was stolen, so I had to hoof it on my feet. I went out of my way for this one, though."
Xiangling's mouth curls into a mischievous grin. "Ah yes, Mr. Zhongli," she reads off of the ticket. "He's a regular here, you know. In general, I mean. You get a lot of his orders."
More like all of them.
He tugs at his collar. "Yeah, he said something once about me being reliable."
"Reliable," repeats Xiangling, eyes glinting in a way that Childe doesn't particularly like. "Right." She pats the takeout container affectionately. "Either way, you know how it goes—double-check the order, just in case."
Xiangling never gets a thing wrong, but Childe does as she asks. "Wait, this is…"
"I was going to ask about that, actually. Lunch for two? And on a weekend. I've known Mr. Zhongli for years and he isn't the type to turn away from routine, which makes me wonder—"
"Xiangling, look—"
"Oh, so it is like that, then? Man, I knew it! Yanxiao owes me some Mora."
Childe winces, rubbing at his face. "It's not… like that."
"It isn't?" Xiangling raises an eyebrow, entirely unconvinced. "Childe, how many orders do you pick up here?"
Countless, he thinks. Thousands over the course of several years. "Enough for you and I to become friends."
"And Mr. Zhongli—he's a very particular man. I assume he's a regular of yours?"
"I…" Childe wants to swallow his tongue. He bites at his lip because he's about to say something stupid. Xiangling is a friend—a real one. They've gone shopping together, and shared drinks occasionally at bars. She was the first person in Liyue to extend a smile to him and he'll never forget that.
Which is probably why he puts his foot in his mouth.
"I'm in love with him," he blurts. "Gods, that sounds dumb because he's older and stiff, and I know that he buttons his shirts up to the top button, but shit he gives the most amazing head, and—"
"I'm sorry but what?" Xiangling's mouth hangs open.
And then Childe realizes what he just said. He smacks his palm against his face. "I… I—"
"Childe, while I love gossip, there's such a thing as too—"
"I didn't mean for it to happen!" Childe drags a hand through his hair. "We're friends—that's why he always requests me—or, at least as friendly as you can get with a favored client. But the last night he ordered dinner to share with me because he wanted to, and then my bike got stolen and he offered me a ride home, and I said yes because I have no self-control, and then he—"
"Childe," says Xiangling, leaning against the counter on her elbows, "calm down."
"Xiangling, I invited him in for tea. We did not have tea, we—" Childe groans, pulling at his cheeks, hiding his face against his palms, and letting out a frustrated sound. "We both wanted to—gods, we both wanted to. But then he buttoned that damned collar back up, said it'd been a pleasure and left."
Xiangling's eyebrows fly into her hairline. "Just like that?"
Well, no. Childe should've asked him to stay, and his indecision must show on his face. His forehead smacks against the countertop with an impressive sound.
She sighs softly and reaches out to pet his hair gently. "Let me grab you some egg tarts, okay? They're on me." Xiangling takes pity on him, not just with free dessert, she lets him whine until the food gets cold, leading her to package up a fresh take-out container before he heads out.
"Hey," she says when Childe shoulders his bag and heads for the door, "for what it's worth, Mr. Zhongli isn't the kind of man to do things he doesn't want to, you know? He's very particular in his choices." Xiangling points to the bag. "Like a late lunch for two. Again."
Maybe she has a point. Childe offers her a smile and thanks.
#
Zhongli looks like an utter nightmare when Childe arrives at Archon Industries. He jumps slightly when Childe knocks on the doorframe, sticking his head into the room. The office is in absolute disarray, papers strewn about in haphazard, half-tumbling piles.
"Oh, Childe—I—" Zhongli drags a hand through his tangled hair, trying to smooth it back. "Sorry," he murmurs, moving to clear the mess from the spare chair. "It is absolute chaos here. We're in the middle of a merger and it's very hectic. It isn't that I wasn't expecting you, obviously, I was, but—"
"Mr. Zhongli," cuts in Childe, stepping into the room full. "It's fine. It's really not that bad. I mean, last night you saw my place…" He trails off and Zhongli pauses, hands curled around a thick folio of files. Childe watches his throat bob.
"I would have thought…" Zhongli sighs, calming down slightly. "Zhongli is fine, Childe." The after last night isn't said, but fully implied.
Childe crosses the room stiffly and drops the food onto the cleanest part of the desk. "I don't think I've ever seen you so frazzled." He waves vaguely.
Zhongli presses a hand to his chest and looks down at himself. He's rumpled, ruffled, wrinkled, and crinkled. The collar of his shirt is undone and loose, and his hair is coming out of its tie, sticking out and pooling over his shoulder. He scratches his chin idly.
"I've been up to my eyeballs with work, particularly because I indulged in other endeavors last night instead of taking my work home."
Childe bites at his lip nervously. He leans against Zhongli's desk, trying to remain at ease. "Take a breather," he tells him. "You need a distraction."
Zhongli's head tilts at that, then he looks at Childe. Childe squirms, just slightly, underneath that calculated, golden-eyed gaze. He's only a few steps away, and it takes nothing for Zhongli to cross the space, boxing him in against the desk. He reaches for Childe's chin, thumbing over the arch of his bottom lip, considering him.
"Mr. Zhongli—"
Zhongli laughs at that. "Still insistent with the Mister." He dips closer, his mouth close.
"By distraction, I meant the food you ordered."
"You can tell me no," says Zhongli, the corners of his eyes crinkling with soft little crow's feet.
Childe does not tell him no. He presses a hand against Zhongli's waist and pulls him closer against the better of his judgment. He smells like expensive cologne and tea and a little like sweat. Zhongli's lips are soft as he leans into it, tongue slipping out to lick across the seam of Childe's mouth.
They both moan, soft, breathy sounds as they just kiss and kiss and kiss, Zhongli's hands warm against Childe's cheeks as he holds them. Childe feels weighed down, with Zhongli pressed so close, off-kilter, heart beating fast. Nerves alight and on fire, and only because of a kiss.
Then Childe pulls away. "Wait, are there others here?"
Zhongli chuckles softly, smoothing his thumb over the rise of his cheek. "It's the weekend. Aside from security, who else would be here? No, no, we're alone, you don't need to worry about being seen."
"And what about you? Would you worry?"
"No," says Zhongli. Then his brow furrows gently. "Childe, if you're concerned about what this might look like—"
"I thought you needed a distraction? If it isn't going to be the food, I'd rather you just kiss me."
Zhongli falls into him easily, pressing close, his hands slipping down, sliding along his sides. He tugs at his shirt again, pulling it from Childe's trousers. Zhongli's hands are blistering against his skin, fingers pressing into the soft dip of his back.
Childe is pathetic in the way that his dick is already half-hard in his trousers. With how he moans softly, chasing Zhongli's mouth when he pulls back, and how pleasure burns through his veins at such a simple touch. It's no longer a candle that he holds, it's a straight-up blaze, setting his nerves alight as Zhongli drags his nails over his skin.
"I never returned the favor," says Childe against his lips. "Last night, I should've asked you to stay. I should've—" He swallows and shares Zhongli's breath.
"Childe—"
"Let me make it up to you. Let me—"
"Childe." Zhongli cups his cheek and pecks his lips. "You don't owe me anything. I do as I wish because I want to. Turn around for me?"
He does as Zhongli asks, leaning against the desk. Zhongli grabs him by the hips, pulling Childe's ass flush to him, and oh, he's hard. Zhongli sighs, grinding against him, erection trapped by his own trousers. It feels impressive. A lengthy handful—which Childe already knows having seen the bulge the night before.
Zhongli's fingers play with his waistband, just barely slipping in, splaying flat against Childe's stomach. "You were perfect last night," says Zhongli, leaning over his shoulder, mouth near his ear. Childe shivers when his breath warms his ear. "Will you let me see more? Will you let me indulge again?"
Childe would let him indulge a thousand times if it means that they can keep this up. "Yes, please, please—"
Zhongli chuckles and kisses his ear. Then his neck, and the spot of his nape that peeks out from his shirt. He's gross and sweaty, covered in the city air, but Zhongli doesn't seem to mind. Zhongli undoes his trousers and presses a hand inside, squeezing at Childe's cock until it's fully hard and leaking. Then he slips the fabric down past the swell of Childe's ass until it's caught around his thighs.
"Is this—" Childe answers by reaching behind him to grope at Zhongli's dick, palm resting against the stiff fabric of his clothing. Zhongli huffs then, his forehead dropping to Childe's shoulder. "Alright," he whispers. "Alright—but quickly."
Quickly turns out to be Zhongli pulling his cock out, wetting it with his spit, and slipping it between Childe's thighs. Right there, snug between his legs, the fat tip nudging at his balls. Childe wants to see, he'd get on his knees and beg to see—but this is good too in the grand scheme of things.
Zhongli's dick is deliciously long and thick, just like his wide palms and those sinuous fingers that drive Childe insane. The night before, he thinks. When Zhongli was driving him home and the slip of his wrist bone was on display. How his fingers rested, curled around the steering wheel. Now they're curled around his waist instead, digging into soft flesh, pulling him back by the hips.
"Childe," he hisses into his neck, rutting against him quickly, harshly, with the intent to end this hard and fast. It isn't even that slick, the drag of Zhongli's cock catching on his skin. The tip of his dick knocks against his balls, slides over his perineum, and Childe can feel the way that his hole clenches, wanting more.
Another time, another time, even if he has to sink to his knees and beg Zhongli to fuck him properly. For now—Childe moans as he moves with him, thighs tightening, and fingers clawing at his desk. He accidentally knocks a stack of papers off the desk, sending them flying.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"Think of this," says Zhongli, turning Childe's face away from the papers that drift to the ground. "That doesn't matter, only this. Mhmn, tight and slick for me, but I have to wonder what it'd be like to feel all of you."
Childe curses when Zhongli wraps a hand around his cock, jerking it on time with his staggering thrusts between his thighs. "Zhongli, Zhongli—" He bites at his lip, trying to keep quiet. All he hears instead is the slick slide of their skin, and the way Zhongli's thighs slap against his ass.
"How I've imagined this, the sounds you'd make, how you'd feel."
Zhongli's words sink deep into his gut, spreading like a wildfire. Childe whines, pitifully, drunk on the pleasure and the praise. At how Zhongli fucks into the softness of his thighs and tells him about every dirty detail of the things he's dreamt of.
"It's no secret that I like you," he says. He noses along the length of Childe's neck, nibbling at it. "That I've wanted to wine and dine you, and perhaps take-out isn't the most impressive of ways to go about it, but—" Zhongli grunts, legs straining as he just thrusts against him.
Sweet words. Childe will remember them later when he's clear-headed enough. "I—I—" He moans as Zhongli thumbs the slit of his cock. "Yes, please, more."
Zhongli comes first, splattering semen all over the insides of Childe's thighs. His cock twitches, straining, pulsing as Childe tightens his legs to keep the wet warmth there. "Gods," murmurs Zhongli, stroking Childe's cock, palming around him tightly. Childe fucks into his hold, hips moving, clinging to the desk for better leverage.
He comes crying out Zhongli's name with a hoarse shout. Zhongli quiets him, soothing words in his ear as he coaxes Childe through his orgasm, fingers grazing his cock lazily. Then, Zhongli brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did the night before.
"I would think it obvious," says Childe, finally, when the high wears down and they're left feeling cold and clammy. "Shit, I don't just let guys fuck my thighs in their offices."
Zhongli pulls away and Childe peeks at his softening dick. Oh, oh, that's—Childe sends a prayer to Celestia up above, his face pinched as he tries to remember how to speak.
"I would hope not," says Zhongli. "Then again, I do not offer just anyone a ride home; only handsome delivery drivers I've had my eye on." He cleans himself up with tissues from his desk, and then Childe next. A minimal job, but decent enough. Once their trousers are pulled back on and zipped, Zhongli reaches out to grasp Childe's chin. "Hey, I meant it. I like you."
"I know. I—" Childe laughs, a short and aborted sound. "I've liked you for years, you know. Pretty much since I saw you."
Zhongli smiles then, wide and easy, and oh, if it doesn't make Childe's heart speed up. "Love at first delivery?" he teases. Zhongli gives him a short, sweet kiss and pulls away. "We've done this backwards, but lunch?"
Sharing lunch is nicer than the sex, which is strange because Childe isn't the sort to just… enjoy the company of another. But, Zhongli is Zhongli.
He'll make an exception.