Chapter Text
Being a Fatui harbinger means business. Or rather, being busy. Extremely so. He’s always out there somewhere, be it Snezhnaya, Liyue or archon knows where - although, if it was up to him, he’d rather be at home listening to his siblings’ stories or take care of his old man. They have a lot of catching up to do, after all. And if he wasn’t out and about collecting debts like he collects bruises and scars, or perhaps even trying to steal gnoses from archons who like faking their own death for show - he’s resting somewhere at Northland Bank. But there’s not a single ounce of comfort in that, play pretend elegiac peace between Fatui diplomats who do not wish to be around him, scared and always on edge, tippy-toeing their way warily over the fine and expensive looking interior. Like prey. It’s almost cute, or so he thinks.
Considering all that, it’s no wonder Childe’s world lights up when he sees Teucer standing in the doorway. It’s strange however, because the small boy couldn’t be more eerily out of place there, a sort of uncanny valley feeling which won’t leave his mind. The older male barely comprehends it, he’s blankly staring with his signature deadpan expression, but on the inside he’s all giddy and delighted. He wonders if the sight before him is even real for a couple of heartbeats before shaking his head and making his way over to his brother.
“Teucer,” he breathes, still shakily, as if to test the waters, “what on earth are you doing here?”
Childe reaches out, slowly at first, but then he grabs his brother and pulls him into a tight embrace. It’s warm, it’s cozy, it feels like home for a short moment before he pulls away. He swears he can smell the winter air still lingering on Teucer’s clothes, a faint touch of Snezhnaya he’s trying to hold onto.
“Visiting you, of course,” the small ginger boy finally replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like Childe should have expected his visit. He smiles, unhurried, like they have all the time in the world. They don’t.
The two of them head out of Northland Bank and he leads Teucer down the stairs, away from the building, away from Fatui business, away from something he’s desperately trying to hide, no matter in how many white lies he has to paint himself with. He’s wearing the toy salesmen lie like an expensive cloak. But seeing how the sun’s up in the sky, the Fatui shaped shadow he’s casting behind him is going to walk beside him for a while longer. Dark eyes behind sinister masks are lurking at every corner, their empty gazes fixated on the 11th harbinger. It means nothing.
//
Teucer’s laugh chimes around the harbor like a bell as they’re walking to watch the ships. “That one in the distance is really big,” he remarks as he’s chewing on some snack he brought from home.
Childe nods. “It’s called the Pearl Gallery . Only for esteemed guests,” he explains briefly.
“Like you? Are you one of those esteemed guests?”
That gets a laugh out of him, “No, no. Not really. They don’t want toy sellers on there, I’m afraid. Disturbs their, um, business .”
In reality, he’s been there once. Fatui diplomatics. He remembers several of their escort ladies trying to get him to engage in business with them and he had to try his hardest to not throw them overboard when their advances became more and more aggressive. But it’s not like he can tell Teucer about that.
Said boy is already dragging Childe to the next best thing that caught his attention, but the latter doesn’t mind it in the slightest. Any time he’s able to spend with his family is a good time. A tragedy how it has turned into a precious rarity. All the mora he has accumulated can’t buy him interpersonal relationships, after all. They move on.
“Tonia misses you.”
It comes out of nowhere and hits Childe right where it hurts the most. A dull ache in his throat at first. Then his legs start to shake ever so slightly. He doesn’t risk it, not in front of Teucer, so he sits down on a patch of grass. A sharp inhale. An almost broken facade. The egoist is the most self-sacrificial being there is. A breathy exhale. “I know.”
Teucer gets down next to him and places his head against his older brother’s shoulder. “You smell like Liyue.” And there’s no need for further elaboration because Childe knows exactly what he means.
//
“Archons above, is that your child ?”
The two gingers look up in surprise. They’ve been sitting there on the ground in silence for who knows how long, just appreciating each other’s company.
With the sun flare crowning your head you’re staring down at the pair, casting a faint shadow over Childe’s form. You lock eyes with him, waiting for a reply.
It takes the harbinger several long moments to recover from your question before he snorts out a small laugh. “Of course not. That’s my little brother.”
“Yeah, I was about to say. Can’t imagine you going that far with another human being anyways,” you retort, voice laced with a teasing tone, challenging him. Childe huffs, faking injury.
“I’m appalled you’d say that,” he says, “after all, I’m clearly the most handsome guy around here. People are waiting in line for me, love.”
You laugh heartily and swear you could see a faint trace of real disappointment on his face for a split second. It’s gone as fast as it came so you conclude that you must have imagined it. “What about Zhongli, huh? He exists.”
Now Childe’s glaring at you and there’s no telling anymore if he’s fake angry or not. “So you want to tell me, Zhongli of all people — ” he begins to argue but the boy next to him cuts him off.
“Don’t ignore me!”
All eyes fly to Teucer, who sits there pouting with his arms crossed. You crouch down in front of him so the two of you are eye to eye. “And who might you be?” you ask.
He looks at you with his large and round blue eyes and they remind you of Childe’s. A calm sea. Waves rippled by a gentle summer breeze. He bats his seagull lashes a few times before replying, “I’m Teucer.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m y/n, cherished friend of your brother.” you send him a look. “Didn’t know you had siblings, ginger.”
“Oh, there are many of us! There’s sister Tonia, and Anthon and — ”
Childe sighs, acting like a slave to exhaustion. “Yeah, I have several siblings. It doesn’t matter though.” In one swift motion he pushes himself off the ground and stretches his arms above his head. Teucer imitates him immediately.
“I think it’s time we head back to my place,” the harbinger suggests, but it’s obvious he’s not leaving a choice for Teucer this time, “we still need to take care of our dinner.”
“Can y/n come along?”
At that, the both of you choke on your spit. You try to laugh it off awkwardly. Childe stares.
“They’re busy. Maybe another time,” he looks directly at you now with his sea breeze eyes. Silently telling you to play along, because he has no way of knowing if you’re truly busy or not. To indulge Teucer on another occasion.
You nod, “He’s right. We could spend some time tomorrow if that’s fine with you?”
Childe seems satisfied with your response, “Bye then. See you tomorrow.”
You wave silently at the siblings as they begin to walk in the direction of their destination, thinking about how something must have set him off. He’s usually not that abrasive, at least not towards you and you can’t help but frown at how unpleasant that makes you feel.
//
Teucer’s jumping around all over the couch. Throwing pillows across the room. Or at Childe, who patiently picks them up every single time. “Please stop that already.”
“But why? I’m so excited! I wanna meet more of your friends!”
Childe pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, sighs and sits down on the relentlessly attacked couch. “Yes, yes. We will meet them, now please just calm down.”
That seems to do the trick as Teucer actually relaxes. He flops his legs over Childe’s. “But… I can’t help but wonder…”
“You must be in a relationship by now,” Teucer says, big blue eyes wide so that the ocean inside of them threatens to spill all out on the floor and over him, “you're so cool and amazing, people are probably throwing themselves at you!”
Childe hesitates. Tries to form a coherent sentence. Fails. What is he supposed to tell him?
“Umm, yes, of course,” he chokes out a laugh which tastes bitter on his tongue tainted with yet another white lie, “I'm in a relationship with y/n.”
As soon as these words leave his mouth, his hands fly up to his face and he tries to cover it, shut himself up, don't speak another word, don't speak don't speak don't speak—
“Yay! That cool person from before,” is how his little brother responds, grinning brightly up at him, “we're gonna see them tomorrow anyways!”