Childe calls him into the middle of the forest one brisk afternoon with no explanation as to why.
Zhongli goes, of course, ever at the boy's whims, desperate to spend as many waking moments in his aura. He is not lonely. Not anymore—but the moments apart from Childe drag on slowly. Zhongli itches to be in his presence, fingers worrying creases into his perfectly pressed trousers.
Hu Tao was easy enough to convince. "Childe said—" he'd started and the moment Hu Tao heard the boy's name she waved the thought off.
"Say nothing more. I don't want a Harbinger wringing my neck. Besides, you could use the time off."
Zhongli does not, still insistent that he is not a workaholic but he goes, every step towards his love easing the unrest in his being. It's strange, the calming nature Childe has on him. Most would liken him to a violent tempest and Zhongli only finds steady calm.
The air is crisp, fresh with winter. It is cold but Liyue lacks the permafrost that Childe is no doubt more accustomed to. He stands in a small clearing, hand on his chin as he observes the trees, still in nothing but short sleeves. Not even gooseflesh on his arms, utterly comfortable as he mutters to himself.
Zhongli slides close from behind, pressing his face into Childe's neck, inhaling deeply. Crisp ocean, clear blue skies, and other descriptions of scent that don't quite make sense when spoken aloud. "Ajax," he whispers for Childe's ear alone.
Childe doesn't flinch. He'd likely known Zhongli was there the moment he arrived, boots crunching softly against the cold ground. He turns to meet Zhongli's face, face crinkled as he grins. "There you are, you old lizard. I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."
"Never." A pause as Zhongli pulls away. "However—what are we doing here?"
"Yuletide!" says Childe as though it explains everything. It does not and Zhongli's brow furrows in confusion. Childe chuckles, reaching up to smooth out the wrinkle with his thumbs, the pad calloused against Zhongli's forehead. "We're going to cut down a tree, haul it back to your place, and decorate it."
"I—"
"Surely you know what Yuletide is."
Zhongli grunts, offended. "A celebration of the winter solstice," he says tartly, "culminating in a quiet night of observation on the shortest day of the year. I am old, not stupid." He peels away from Childe, turning to the trees. "It has been many centuries since I last stepped foot into Snezhnaya but I was under the impression this isn't a holiday much observed anymore."
"In the city, yeah. I'm from Morepesok, though. Deep in the permafrost, we take the Yuletide seriously. Even if I'm not there, I still…" Childe waves vaguely.
"And so a tree."
"It's been a while since I've had a tree." Childe's voice is soft, hesitant. "I thought that the teapot could use a little festive cheer, I guess." Oh. Zhongli's mouth parts as he tries to find words, which prompts Childe to continue. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's also fine. I didn't really ask and it's your home—"
"Our home," corrects Zhongli firmly. He tugs Childe's hand up to nuzzle his knuckles, pressing a kiss to them. "And I'm happy to indulge in whatever traditions you so wish."
Childe sighs softly, face warm as Zhongli holds his hand close. It's easy between them. Zhongli is particular about his relationships but Childe is just so easy. It is novel and Zhongli clings to it, just like he clings to Childe's cold and clammy fingers.
"What makes for a good tree?" he asks.
"Anything, really. Dealer's choice."
"Teach me, then."
And so Childe does, pulling him into the tree line. They pick their way over the ground, rocks skittering and branches snapping. Childe is animated, poking and prodding at branches as they walk by, assessing the needles. Some are too dense, some are too sparse, some are too thick around the middle.
The hours slip by as Childe turns down every option the look but its with humor. They trip over the dirt, nudging at each other with elbows as they just enjoy each other's presence. It's as much about them as it is the tree, Zhongli realizes. He delights in watching Childe's pinked cheeks and the way that his nose dribbles a little in the cold.
These moments are fleeting things, meant to be indulgent. Cold-crusted noses and bitter-cold fingers that turn red in the brisk air. Childe's hands are calloused, warm as his fingers tighten. Zhongli feels both grounded and tipsy, feet rooted to the spot but his heart flipping.
"I—that one." Childe rubs at his nose.
It's a wimpy thing, not too tall, a little thin in some spots and thick in others. He reaches out, petting the pine needles, tugging at them gently. They bend under his touch.
"I always like the misshapen ones," he says. "They kind of remind me of myself."
"Ajax, you aren't—"
"I wasn't being mean." Childe looks resolved, not unsure, mouth set into a firm line as he drops his pack to the ground. "I only meant that some of us aren't so refined, you know? I'm a little rough around the edges despite my fresh face."
"There's more to you than just the way you look," says Zhongli. He would know, wholly enamored by Childe's fierce nature.
Childe snorts. "Obviously. And that's part of the point. Guys like me don't always fit in. This tree here… deserves some love."
"And so you'll cut it down?" Zhongli quirks an eyebrow.
Childe drops to his knees and presses his fingers to the ground around the tree trunk. "There's something that we do in Morepesok—a tradition if you will. If you dig the tree out with its roots, you can replant it. My family has used the same Yuletide tree for generations."
He turns to Zhongli with a thoughtful look. "I thought you might like that. It's kinda like a family member you spend the holiday with."
"I'd rather spend the holiday with you."
"Yes, well, beggars can't be choosers." Zhongli laughs as the joke delivers its punch. Childe then waves him over. "Come on, help me, will you? With you around, it'll be easier to get this guy home. Usually, we're stuck digging for half a day."
They work together, knuckles brushing as they dig around the tree. Zhongli's fingers sink deep into the soil, scooping the earth up as though it is water, dirt trickling through his fingers off to the side. It is quick. Efficient. Childe laughs as he directs Zhongli's hands, showing him how to avoid the tender root ball of the pine tree.
The tree falls against the hard-packed earth with a slam but is no worse for wear.
"Right, then. Your strength will also come in handy seeing as I don't have like five other guys to haul this thing home."
"I should have known better to think you had no ulterior motive," jests Zhongli, the quip rolling off his tongue naturally.
Childe winces, mocking him back. "Ow. A shot to the heart. That stung."
Zhongli waves his hand and an old teapot appears from the ether, winking into existence. It's always been useful, the ability to hide things in between the folds of space.
Childe's face relaxes at the sight of the old, cracked pottery. He reaches out to smooth a finger over it. "Yeah, okay. Let's get this thing home."
Zhongli grabs his wrist, halting him. He smooths a thumb over the sharp curve of his wrist bone, a soothing touch. "Ajax, I meant it. This is our home. I want you to feel loved."
Childe's huffs, a soft breath rising from his chest. "The reason I have had a tree in years is because I don't set roots down. But here—" He's the one to tug Zhongli's hand to his lips, this time, kissing each finger gently. "I do feel loved. I 's why I want to share this with you. These are the parts you've never seen, that you're still getting to know."
"That's…" Zhongli chuckles, a fluttering sound. "You must forgive this old lizard." He often loses himself in moments like this, strangely insecure. These sorts of affairs are mortal-like and they do not come naturally to him.
Another kiss to his fingers, Childe pressing his cheek against cold knuckles. "Always," he says. "No matter what, Zhongli, I'll always forgive you." He pulls away. "Unless you don't get this tree back in one piece. Then we might have to share some heated words."
Zhongli hums. "A battle of tongues? Ajax, you are the type to argue with your fists, I think."
"Is that an offer?"
It's not even a challenge but Zhongli laughs nonetheless.