Archive of Our Own

Life as a hybrid can be hard. Even with the recent aggressive movement for hybrid rights and an almost two century-long crackdown on illegal experimentation, Childe has faced much discrimination in his lifetime. 

It doesn’t help that he isn’t a more ferocious breed, like the lion and bears who were created to guard the cities during the Archon Wars. Childe is a Russell Terrier hybrid, intelligent and fearless, but stubborn to a fault. His ancestors were created almost three thousand years ago to basically sniff out enemies and then tire them down with a chase. In other words, Childe is ridiculously hard to shake off when he has locked onto a goal and can get sensitive around strong smells.

The Archon Wars saw the creation of many beasts, with the best soldiers being infused with animal DNA to hone the best of their abilities. After all, soldiers were much more effective if they had the strength to break through boulders and see in pure darkness. In the aftermath of the war, these subhuman soldiers retired just like the normal human soldiers and eventually set up their own families, resulting in a long lineage of what became known as the hybrid race today.

A few thousand years has mostly bred the pure aggressive instinct and bloodlust out of all hybrids and Teyvat hasn’t been at war for at least four centuries, but the fear and stereotypes against hybrids still remained. 

Even with the odds stacked against him, Childe clawed his way to the top through sheer determination and hard work, ensuring that even the ones most doubtful of his abilities had to begrudgingly admit that he was one talented man. Fresh out of university, he joined the banking industry because it paid the best out of all options available to hybrids.

He knew his way around numbers and had the sort of boyish charm that drew people to him effortlessly. At first glance, his soft looking features paired with his unable to be hidden ears usually made others dismissive of him. It allowed Childe to bring down the guard of everyone around him by charming them with his sweet words and then changing his personality to efficient ruthlessness once they were hooked. 

Within a short few years, Childe had built up an impressive network of contacts and left the bank to start up his own grocery chain with the help of some investors that he had met through his job. He employs only hybrids to give job opportunities to others like himself and stops at no measures to ensure that his stores are always a hybrid-safe place.

Riptide is a source of Childe’s pride, the grocery chain cheekily named as a daring rebellion against a society that doesn’t favour hybrids. He will not stand for discrimination, not where he can stop it.

After all, he’s Childe.

Running a chain of six stores can be tiring, especially when Childe insists on being hands on in the day-to-day happenings. He knows the name of each and every employee and takes it upon himself to befriend them to ensure they’re all comfortable under his employment.

Today, he welcomed a new batch of recruits, most of them obviously never having worked in a proper job ever and lacking some social skills. It’s difficult for any hybrid to get employed so it doesn’t come as a surprise, but it still takes a lot out of Childe to have to soothe the nerves of his new employees. 

After a long day, he can’t wait to take an hour-long bath and finally sink into his sheets.

He lives in a fairly quiet neighbourhood because it’s hard to find a welcoming community in the city. It’s quite a distance from the city and there’s barely a cluster of 30 or so houses, but Childe likes the serene peacefulness it provides.

When he pulls into his driveway and leaves his car though, Childe thinks he’s seeing things. It’s well into the night and the dark plays tricks on the mind. It takes a few more steps before he realizes something, or someone , is slumped against his front door, shadows cast across his body by the lone night light Childe leaves on.

Upon a closer look, the person, a dark haired man, has his face scrunched together in discomfort, his fist curled up against his chest like he has difficulty breathing.

He is clearly not from here - his clothes do not fit the Snezhnayan style and are much too thin for the chilly autumn weather, only a button down peeking out of a thread bare vest and what seems to be a tattered coat that had seen better days wrapped loosely around himself.

“Hey, are you okay?” Childe rushes forward and kneels down by the man. A tentative touch to the man’s arm reveals that he’s burning up and Childe can see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite how cold it is. “I’ll get you to a hospital-“

A hand shoots out to grip his arm. “I am not hurt, only tired.” Despite his pitiful situation and the sheer desperation in the words, the man exudes an aura of regal elegance, like he isn’t shivering on a stranger’s front porch. He lifts his head up to look at Childe and for the first time, Childe can make out his face - shockingly bright deep-set amber eyes framed by thick eyebrows that make him look stern, but his other features are so dainty, a delicate nose and pursued lips, that Childe doesn’t find himself intimidated at all.

 “I am sorry to intrude, but can I please…” He trails off, the words taking the wind out of him but Childe gets the message loud and clear.

“Of- of course,” Childe stutters, too taken back to digest the situation. “Can you stand?” He loops an arm around the man and helps him to his feet, frowning at how the man has to slump against him in obvious discomfort. Slowly, they make their way into the house and Childe makes the quick decision to settle him on his couch because it’s closest to the fireplace. 

He’s not sure he wants this dripping wet man in his guest bedroom just yet.

Childe hurries to get a spare pillow and a thick duvet to tuck the man in, mumbling nonstop promises to get him some hot chocolate and food. The man can barely nod his thanks, desperately bringing the mildly hot cup of chocolate when it’s given to him to his parched lips.

By the time Childe emerges from the kitchen again with a heated up bowl of potato soup, the man is fast asleep on the couch, the blankets fisted up to his chin.

For a few moments, Childe watches the sleeping figure on his couch. His number one rule has always been to be wary of humans and yet he has brought a complete stranger into his house. What has he done?

As he lets the stranger sleep on his couch, Childe mulls over his next point of action. Should he call the police? The Fatui were not known to be kind to hybrids and he doubts they would be kind to a lost wanderer as well, so he decides alerting the authorities could wait until he hears an explanation from the man himself.

First, he needs to tell someone else of the situation, just so another person is aware and could send help if needed.

He dials Aether’s number immediately, knowing his closest friend would pick up even at this late hour.

“Childe?” Aether has barely said his greeting before Childe launches into a hurried explanation of how he found a shivering human on his front porch.

When he finishes his spiel, there’s only silence on the other end, long enough that panic seeps into Childe’s bones. Okay, so maybe this isn’t the best idea, maybe-

“You’re going to keep a human?”

Childe blanches, torn out of his loud thoughts. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”  

“Do you need me there with you?” Even through the phone, he can hear Aether’s worry. Aether is always so sweet, always there to offer his help and advice and Childe finds himself calming down just by knowing he has Aether on his side.

“It’s late now. Maybe I’ll give you another call in the morning after the man wakes?” Childe doesn’t want to overreact, though there is probably no proper way to deal with a lost human .

“Please stay safe, Childe.”

“I think,” Childe says slowly, cradling the phone to his chest. “I think I will be okay.” He prays to every Archon that he hasn’t made a mistake.

Childe is startled awake by a few knocks on his door and his heart leaps up to his throat, mind instantly running to the possibility that someone has broken into his house. He needs to grab a weapon, something to protect himself-

The knocks sound again, softer and more hesitant. “Excuse me?”

Memories of last night slam into him and Childe lets his fists unclench, the tension bleeding out of him for a brief moment before it crawls back up in a tight hold. The strange man is awake.

He’s at the door in seconds and yanks it open so suddenly that the man gapes at him in surprise, his fist raised mid-knock.

In the daylight, he looks so much more well rested and alive, his amber eyes now sharp and focused. 

Childe realises with a start that he didn’t notice how beautiful this man truly is. Despite his circumstances, his skin is free of any blemishes and if Childe didn’t know better, he would have pegged him as just one of his business partners dropping by for a chat.

The man bows his head once in rigid formality. “I am sorry for the inconvenience and am truly thankful for your kind hospitality last night. I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Childe gently places the back of his hand against the man’s forehead, making the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your fever hasn’t subsided and you can barely stand!”  Even if the man isn’t physically hurt, he’s visibly weak and has trouble standing on his feet. Childe may be wary but he isn’t so cold as to send a sick man out on the streets.

“Please, at least let us talk over breakfast.” Ignoring every instinct in his body that is against him prolonging the stay of a stranger, a human at that, Childe lets his face melt into a warm smile, the face that he puts on when he’s speaking to his employees or welcoming new ones.  “But before that, I’m Childe, and how may I address you?”

The man peers up at him, looking like he has half a mind to argue his way out of breakfast before he settles on, “I’m Zhongli, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Zhongli begrudgingly rests while Childe whips up a quick batch of blinis, after Childe firmly rejects his offer for help. He only settles down at the dining table when Childe fixes him with a stern glare and tells him he’d be a bother only if he faints.

With the food on the table, Zhongli seems content to fill his stomach before they discuss the elephant in the room. He didn’t even eat the soup Childe had prepared the night before he passed out, so who knows how long since he had a proper meal.

“I’ve never eaten this before.” Zhongli observes how Childe slathers his pancakes with a generous amount of jam and mimics his movements on his own plate. Unlike how Childe chooses to just stuff each of the tiny blinis into his mouth, Zhongli carefully cuts them into quarters and finishes chewing before he speaks.

“This is blini, a type of pancake,” Childe tells him around a mouthful, noting that he isn’t from around here, just like he suspected. It’s as good an opening as any, so he continues casually, “They don’t have something like this where you’re from? Why were you wandering around sick anyway?”

“My previous living arrangements fell through,” Zhongli says simply. “I lived in the quarters above my work place, but the shop had to close down due to unforeseen circumstances.”

He doesn’t offer more so Childe presses on. “Where are you from?”  He’s noticed the intricate designs embroidered on Zhongli’s coat and it’s clear that it was once a cherished and expensive piece. The designs are large gold geometric squares lovingly stitched in gold and brown, familiar but of clear foreign origin. Whoever Zhongli is, he is -was?- someone of high standing and rich enough to have owned such exquisite clothing. 

“Liyue,” Zhongli replies, a sombre expression taking over his face so suddenly that it draws a sharp intake of breath from Childe.

Archons, Zhongli is a refugee from Liyue. 

Childe has heard the news of what happened to Liyue months ago, when an unexpected storm raged through the city and left a trail of destruction until it abruptly stopped. He knows by the time the storm passed through, it was too late. There were a large number of lives lost and most buildings were destroyed. The surviving cityfolk were evacuated across the lands and for a while, Childe sometimes saw sombre looking people wandering the streets of Snezhnaya, clutching their jackets close around them like they were still not used to the frigid weather. 

There are more questions to ask, if Zhongli escaped the floods safely, if his loved ones or belongings survived. From how he ended up shivering on a random stranger’s doorstep, Childe might know the answers to those questions.

Hybrids tend to shy away from revealing too much about themselves or from prying into the private life of others because they all likely shared a rocky past. Childe understands more than everyone the reluctance to share their history with someone he isn’t close to, so he offers Zhongli an out.

“How did you get to Snezhnaya? It’s such a long distance away from Liyue.”

The tense expression on Zhongli’s face soothes and Childe marvels at how it transforms his face. When onguard, Zhongli looks almost regal and formidable, his deep sharp eyes carrying secrets of sorrow and wisdom. But with the pleasant neutrality back on his face, he looks kind and bookwormly, like a librarian or a scholar. They must be back to safer topics that he’s willing to talk about. “I walked. In the beginning, my old boss gave me a bag of mora as severance pay. I am bad with mora but it was enough for me to secure my meals and find lodging at simple inns.”

“Walked? That must have been thousands of miles.” Childe frowns. Even by ship, the journey could take almost a week and that’s by cutting through the straits. “How long have you been on the road?”

“Months maybe. I’m not too sure myself. The concept of time is a little difficult for me.”

Months . Childe is both horrified and impressed, mind racing with the hardships this man must’ve had.  “How did you end up here?”

Zhongli’s gaze is wistful and unwavering and his next words make Childe’s breath stutter. “It felt safe here. I cannot explain why, but it just felt safe to finally stop.”

For now, this is enough. Childe has taken in hybrids knowing even less of their stories, even ones from foreign lands like Zhongli is. A year ago, he met a quiet teen, Razor, who offered nothing more than his name and now works at one of his restaurants. Months before that, a man named Huffman who came from Mondstadt showed up at one of his stores and begged for employment.

His mind made up, and curse his soft heart that will get him into trouble one day, Childe polishes off the last of his breakfast and nods firmly, more to convince himself than anyone else. “Don’t worry, Zhongli. You can stay here as long as you want.”

Zhongli opens his mouth, probably to protest, but Childe silences him with a shake of his head.

“I insist. You’ve had a long few months. It’s time to rest.”

They draw up ground rules at Zhongli’s insistence, that Zhongli would rest for a while to let his body recover, but he would take on making meals and some of the household chores to contribute his share. He attempts to bring up a job hunt but Childe shushes him immediately with the promise that they’ll bring it up again when he’s feeling better.

There are always empty job positions in Riptide, after all.

From then on, it’s surprisingly easy to adjust to another person living in the house. The guest bedroom is finally cleared up of the boxes Childe never bothered to unpack and Zhongli moves in, though he has no belongings to call his own.

Childe talks about giving the walls a fresh paint, deliberately ignoring how Zhongli side eyes him for speaking like this is a permanent arrangement.

Zhongli lets down his guard the longer they interact and it’s truly a sight to see. For the first few days, he holds himself carefully like he’s well aware he’s a guest in an unfamiliar land, making himself as scarce as possible to avoid disturbing Childe and not impose. He does need the rest, weak from the coughing that racks his entire body, so Childe leaves him to be, only bringing him soft, easily digestible meals and not engaging him in much conversation for fear of worsening the cold he has.

His fever only breaks on the third day, and it’s then that Childe finally snaps when he catches Zhongli peeking his head out from his guest bedroom to see if Childe is there before he makes his way to the kitchen for a drink of water.

Childe corners Zhongli from where he’s in front of the kitchen cabinet and slams his palms on the counter tiles around Zhongli, caging Zhongli in and startling him so much he almost drops his mug. He can be terribly intimidating when he wants to be, and he draws from his old memories of life on the streets when he holds his shoulders back, trying to appear bigger than he is.

“I didn’t take you in for you to avoid me. Please, at work I have to hold myself high and mighty and pretend I have all my shit together. I would love some decent company at home for once. Talk to me so I have a friend to share my worries and complaints with.”

Zhongli recovers quickly and smiles hesitantly, his eyes darting to Childe’s chest where they are almost pressed together. “A friend? I can be that.”

It’s like a dam breaks. Childe learns that Zhongli can really talk about anything at all. When he makes Childe a specialty dish from Liyue called Jade Parcels, he tells Childe about the difference between the two styles of cooking popular in Liyue,  Li Cuisine and Yue Cuisine. A trip to the shops to get Zhongli some new clothes ends up in Zhongli going on and on about the history of cotton in Fontaine. He even manages to fit in a lecture about Mondstadt’s wine industry when they pass by a wine shop, making Childe joke about wanting to raid Mondstadt’s best wineries just to get drunk. Zhongli responds indignantly that wine is meant to be savoured, not for such debaucheries. 

“Wouldn’t you like to see me debauched, Zhongli?” Childe shoots back and for the first time that day, he gets to enjoy peace from Zhongli’s miffed silence.

Luckily, Childe holds his own on being able to talk anyone’s socks off.

Zhongli is also a great listener but he excels in giving advice, taking Childe’s long rants about the rude customers at work (he hates the humans who comes in just to gawk at his employees) and compartmentalizing them into easy action points or prompts to deepdive into how Childe really feels.

“You feel like a lecturer, so knowledgeable,” Childe says, after Zhongli managed to give him a solution to the inefficient rostering system that has bothered him for weeks.

“I did work as a history professor for a few years,” Zhongli shares, hiding a smile with a sip of tea.

“Maybe you can find a job in a university here too,” Childe muses. An idea comes to him and he almost leaps up in excitement, his ears perking up. “Or maybe you could tutor some of the kids in Riptide? I know education wasn’t a priority for some of them due to their backgrounds, but I think they could really do better than work in a grocery store.”

“I think your store is a lovely place to work,” Zhongli says. “But I will brush up on the Snezhnayan school syllabus. Education is certainly important, if not to broaden the horizons of the mind. Let me see what I can do.”

Childe beams back at him and starts rattling off the names of the teens who would probably be interested, completely missing how Zhongli’s eyes are fixed on his happily fluttering ears.

“How’s your pet human?” Aether asks cheerfully when they finally meet up, much too loudly for the quiet café they’re in.

“Can you just shut the fuck up,” Childe hisses, ducking his head despite knowing that it just makes him look extra suspicious.

“Aw, I just want to know how the man keeping my best friend away from me is doing.”

“We’re doing okay,” is all Childe offers, knowing Aether will ask questions that pry all the answers he wants to know anyway. He’s already told Aether of Zhongli’s origins so his best friend knows why Zhongli was wandering around.

“We?” Aether grins, then just as quickly, furrows his brow and drops all the teasing in his voice. “Are you sure he’s safe?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I think so,” Childe repeats with more conviction. “So far all he’s been doing is just help out around the house. He’s also looking at tutoring Bennett and some of the other kids in Riptide. Got really enthusiastic about it too. I think I found him memorising an entire Calculus textbook.”

“Like a househusband,” Aether supplies. “Parenting your kids.”

“Ye- No .” Aether is so cute, it would be a shame if Childe stabbed a fork into that pretty, pretty face.

“In any case, I’m just glad you have more company now.” Aether says with a tone of finality, and Childe senses he’s letting him off the hook. Taking the chance, they drop the subject and move onto something Childe favours more, gossiping about the love lives of their mutual friends. When will Diluc ever get the courage to confess to Jean, when they are so obviously badly hiding crushes on each other?

He’s still arguing with Aether about the morality of betting on their friends’ love lives when Aether drops him off at the doorstep, his bright pink sedan sticking out like a sore thumb in the bland, boring neighbourhood.

Zhongli is sweeping loose leaves off the porch and cocks his head when he sees Aether waving at him enthusiastically.

“You’re Childe’s pet human-” is all Aether gets out before Childe slams the car door in his face. One rude gesture later, Aether gets the message and pouts, but thankfully doesn’t open the door again or wind down his window. Instead he shoots a wink and a salute at Childe and mouths something that looks like be safe before he speeds off. 

Zhongli laughs, leaning on his rake and looking entirely too amused at how red the tips of Childe’s ears are. "I’m your pet human?"

Childe’s hand slips from where he is trying to open his front door and whirls around to face Zhongli, feeling how flushed his cheeks are but needing to clarify. "No- There is no mine. You’re a human, why would you be mine ?"

“Do you have an issue with that term?” Zhongli tilts his head, reminding Childe way too much of a puppy. Who’s the hybrid now?

“ You should have an issue with it,” Childe says, increasingly bewildered. Talking with Zhongli feels like walking in a hedge maze sometimes. He has to wade through Zhongli’s flowery speech and metaphors and wonder if there could be hidden treasures within.

"If you so insist on finding a term to call me, I can be your," Zhongli suggests, oblivious to Childe’s distress. "Housekeeper." He gestures at the rake in his hand.

Housekeeper. Childe can work with that. It sounds better than-

"That makes you, my master?"

Childe chokes on his own saliva. “You know what, we’ve long gone past such archaic titles. I’m Childe, no more, no less.”

“Childe,” Zhongli says with a smile, savouring the name on his tongue. “Then I shall just be Zhongli, no more, no less.”

Zhongli unfortunately takes his new role as “housekeeper” much too seriously.

One evening when Childe finally trudges home from work, he finds Zhongli in front of his cupboards, meticulously listing down each item into a notebook. “What are you doing?”

“Inventory.”

Zhongli takes over grocery shopping with a zeal, handing Childe a long list of groceries written in his neat script every other day. Childe dutifully picks up whatever Zhongli asks for, even if he wants ridiculous 4-ply toilet paper instead of the scraps that Childe is used to, feeling awfully like a husband providing for his family.

In return, Zhongli whips up meals beyond what Childe is capable of making. All the time at home means Zhongli has a lot of time and he spends it painstakingly stewing up increasingly complicated soups that Childe has never tried before, but wolfs down all the same.

Childe doesn’t even listen hear a word of Zhongli’s long gastrological lesson about how three simple ingredients can be turned into something so rich and savoury. He’s too busy marveling at how bamboo shoots - something he didn’t know existed - could be so soft and delicate.

Zhongli’s venture into using appliances unfortunately does not have the same level of success, as Childe finds out when he finds Zhongli in front of an exploding washing machine.

The sight of Zhongli looking lost among the quickly building suds is enough to make Childe burst into laughter, too amused to be mad about the mess on his bathroom floor.

“I’m afraid that I have made a bit of a mess.” Does Zhongli sound sheepish ?

“Are all Liyue men like you?” Childe muses. There’s a little blob of fluffy soap on Zhongli’s cheek and it makes him look like a child who was caught breaking into the cookie jar.

“How am I like?” Zhongli throws the question back instead.

Handsome. Tall. Beautiful. “Obtuse,” is what Childe says.

“My old boss, her name is Hu Tao, often called me a blockhead. I can’t imagine why but I take it as just another term of affection.”

Childe gestures at the soap suds that have now reached his feet. “Gee, she must adore you.”

Zhongli’s gaze burns on his face, the smile lingering on the hinge of teasing. “It is a blessing then that it is not her adoration I am after.”

Two weeks in, Childe decides to bring Zhongli visit Riptide. It’s too early to tell how things will unfold, but if Zhongli so wished for a place of employment, Riptide has a knack of taking in lost souls. 

He knows approvals for refugee status takes a while, though he hasn’t brought it up to Zhongli yet, trusting the man has his own plans on his future. Snezhnaya is small and fairly closed off from the rest of Tevyat and there still lingers discomfort in foreign folks.

“Childe!” Dima, one of the youngest employees he has, bounces up to him the second he rounds the corner and comes into view.

“Hello there, my little bee,” Childe says affectionately, a warm smile taking over his face as he ruffles Dima’s hair.

Dima is a fox hybrid who spent some of his teenage years living on the streets until Childe found him coincidentally and offered him employment. Now Dima follows Childe around like an imprinted duckling, always eager to show his improvement and gain Childe’s approval.

Dima’s tail swishes around so fast, it whips into Zhongli's side sometimes and from the corner of his eyes, Childe can see Zhongli take a few steps back to give the kid some space.

“Manager Egor says if I might be able to take on closing duty myself if I try it out a few times with him,” Dima says proudly and Childe layers on the compliments thickly, knowing that these teens are starved for praise. 

Childe is soon summoned to look at a new batch of stock that just came in and sign some approvals, then whisked away to decide on a layout issue. Zhongli can only patter around following him, trying his best to keep out of the way. The employees are visibly wary of him, even after Childe introduced him as a friend, so he can only watch quietly as Childe slips fully into his boss mode, making decisions with no hesitance and greeting all his obviously adoring employees by name.

It’s only when they leave Riptide and are three blocks away does Childe let the persona drop, the smile slipping off his face and his shoulders loosening, his brisk steps slowing into a leisurely pace.

He feels Zhongli’s curious gaze on him as they both make their silent way home, and it’s so heavy that he has to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I knew you owned Riptide, but to see you in action… You are captivating,” Zhongli says quietly, the softest of smiles tugging at his lips. “I can tell they truly respect you.”

Of all the things, Childe isn’t expecting this. He squares his shoulders back up, not really meeting Zhongli’s eyes to hide how shy he suddenly feels. “Society is not too kind to hybrids. I gave them a place to thrive and I can only hope that I’m making it as welcoming and safe as can be.”

“You are doing a wonderful job, Childe.”

For all that he dotes on his employees, Childe isn’t used to compliments himself. He hasn’t felt so revered in ages, or ever. He shrugs and ducks his head, caught on Zhongli’s easy praise and turning it over and over in his mind, each whispered repetition sending a fresh burst of pleased embarrassment through him. “I hope so.”

Zhongli seems to understand and doesn’t say anything more, content to continue the walk home in comfortable silence.

Maybe it’s the work stress, but on a whim Childe pops into a toy store after work and buys a few toys that he thinks his family would love. He hasn’t visited for a while and his youngest brother, Teucer’s birthday is coming soon. Teucer probably hasn’t outgrown his robot phase and Childe is hoping to nudge it into an interest in Engineering, so he picks up a few build-it-yourself robot figurines as well as a few books for the rest of his siblings.

As an afterthought, he buys a mini Inazuma Zen Garden Kit, thinking he could get some peace by raking little pebbles into designs and decorating a tiny corner of his office with fake bonzai. The kit comes with a miniature koi pond, completely with tiny fish figurines frozen in resin and some rocks that frame a red plastic bridge.

He doesn’t expect to be utterly bored of it the moment he assembles it together in under five minutes, arranging the various rocks in a haphazard version of what he sees on the box. 

“Will you be home for dinner tomorrow night, Childe?” His rapid poking at the gravel that is supposed to calm him down is interrupted by Zhongli walking into his home office. “Oh, what is that?”

“Just some silly thing I picked up. It’s supposed to be calming but I don’t see how…” He trails off when he sees Zhongli visibly light up over seeing the kit. 

“Hello,” Zhongli says in a hushed tone to the miniature garden, his hand moving to the kit seemingly of its own accord.

“What?”

Zhongli startles out of his fascination and jerks his arm back, as if he has only just realised how weird it is to talk to tiny rocks.

“Did you just say hello to the fake garden?”

“The stones are real,” Zhongli says defensively, then seems to notice how strange he sounds. Clearing his throat, he continues, “I admire how true to life this miniature garden is. The set mimics the landscaping techniques we often see in Inazuma with a central pond connected by a bridge and rocks around the edges. The white pebbles around the path that you see here symbolise purity and are laid out to welcome the Gods in Inazuma The priests rake through these gravel in designs that represent water ripples to practice their focus, with care to not disturb the symmetry of the garden. It is truly a masterpiece in a palm, inspiring feelings of peace and contemplation just like the gardens we see in Inazuma.“

“O..kay? I’ll put it on the living room table if you like it so much, so you can stare at it whenever.” Childe pushes the kit towards Zhongli. “Maybe you can decorate it the way it’s supposed to look.”

Zhongli for some reason becomes obsessed with the garden. When he thinks Childe isn’t watching, he pets the main rock that is the centrepiece of the garden. Childe walks in on him singing to the bonzai once, a low crooning lullaby in a language he doesn’t understand.

“One day, I’m getting you a garden,” Childe tells him, if only just to see the way Zhongli turns him down in his usual show of modesty, but still unable to hide his hopefulness shining in his eyes.

He keeps his word and brings back a hydroponic garden kit the next day, Riptide somehow stocking these in some hidden corner of the store. “Have fun farming, you weird man.”

“Oh.” That’s all Zhongli offers and Childe frowns, having expected more of a reaction.

“These are beautiful but I,” Zhongli pauses, his hands moving out to caress one of the herbs in the garden, the tips of his ears pink. “I like rocks.”

“You like rocks,” Childe repeats.

“Liyue had forests of stone that were formed by the elements over millions of years. When I see them, I’m reminded of the strength of time, how water and wind can carve-” Zhongli notices Childe badly hiding a laugh behind his hand and snaps his mouth shut. Huffily, he says, “The stones hide many secrets, if we know where to look.”

“Is it a secret that you’re a rock nerd?” Childe can’t help but tease. He fully deserves the pillow thrown in his face.

Childe spends some time kicking around in the local park and gives Zhongli the roundest, prettiest pebble he can find as an apology.

“How’s your pet boyfriend?” Aether asks cheerfully the next time they meet, still too loudly for the quiet ice cream parlour they’re in. 

“He reorganised my underwear drawer… according to colour and style,” Childe says blankly, stabbing at his ice cream until it’s almost all mush.

“Really taking his role as the housekeeper seriously, huh?” Aether doesn’t sound sympathetic at all but he kindly does not point out how Childe didn’t even bother refuting the boyfriend claim.

“I think I’ve put on two pounds this week from the food he makes,” Childe continues to moan. If this continues, he will have to buy new pants. His current pants are starting to be snug but it also makes his non-existent ass look fantastic, so.

“Wow,” Aether says, then grabs Childe’s hands in his. “Childe, I say this in all seriousness. Can he be my pet boyfriend?”

The staff who is wiping the tables nearby shoots them a dirty look and scurries away.

Living as a hybrid has naturally built up Childe’s walls.

He finds it difficult to trust humans especially when they’ve not been the kindest to him but somehow, this one with his mysterious past and strange mannerisms, just somehow he trusts this man.

If he told the version of himself from a year ago that he would be sitting here in his living room all cozily with a human, he would have laughed at himself.

Together they sit in silence, Childe poring over his work while Zhongli leisurely reads a high school history textbook one of the Riptide employees had lent him. 

It’s hard not to notice Zhongli’s gaze flicking to him from time to time, not when the looks are paired with a self-satisfied smile, slow and languid. Indulgent, almost.

Childe refuses to give in to the flush threatening to bloom on his face, smashing a key to send off an email to one last supplier and ending his work for the night. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mmm, the history of Snezhnaya is certainly fascinating, so different from Liyue,” Zhongli says, thumbing another page. 

“I meant your obvious staring.”

A corner of Zhongli’s lips tick up, just a fraction of a reaction that sends a fresh thrill through Childe’s veins. After so many years of living alone, he’s grown used to this sort of banter, addicted to it even, eager to find more ways to draw an amused chuckle out of uptight Zhongli, finding satisfaction in seeing Zhongli unravel day by day, taking more bricks out of the walls they had both put up.

He has never let anyone so close so fast before.

“You do make for a pretty sight,” Zhongli says with a slight smirk. 

Childe powers down his laptop and chooses to ignore the blatant flirting. He scoots closer to Zhongli to peer at the page he’s reading, on the Archon wars. “I was wondering how old you were.”

“Old enough?” Zhongli sidesteps the answer and slowly runs his finger along the paragraphs on his page, lining where he’s reading. Upon Childe’s exaggerated frown, he relents, “I turned thirty last winter.”

“Oh.” Zhongli is both older and younger than he expected. He carries himself like an old soul and speaks in such a stiff and aristocratic manner that he simply cannot be young, but at the same time, he looks like he could safely pass off as someone in his early twenties. Humans tended to age faster, after all. With nothing else to say to that, Childe tells him, “I’m twenty six.”

“Riptide and a whole successful social enterprise under your belt at such a young age? What an accomplished man you are, Childe.” Zhongli says this with so much sincerity that whatever playful retort Childe has dies in his throat. 

Childe hasn't wagged his tail since he was a wee pup (he's dignified ) but at Zhongli’s warm praise, his tail that is usually hidden away twitches, a quick thump before he reigns it in, completely mortified.

“Silly puppy, do you like being praised so much?” Zhongli teases and Childe’s tail instantly goes rigid. Zhongli notices how Childe has frozen and looks intrigued. “Oh, did you like that too? Or find offense at being called a pup? Looking at how your pretty face is flushed right now,” he gently pokes a finger into Childe’s cheek and Childe turns his head to the side in flustered protest, “I might be able to guess.”

Childe bares his teeth, revealing the sharp fangs that lie within, though they both know he means no threat. “Watch it, human.”

“I’m not afraid of a puppy,” Zhongli says haughtily and it takes all of Childe’s willpower not to strangle him on the spot, ignoring how his traitor heart is trying to leap out of his chest. This is… this is humiliating! For him to be called a puppy, that's an unforgivable insult! That’s why his cheeks feel so warm. Yes.

To prove his point, he aims a strong kick into Zhongli’s shin.

Reading time decidedly over, Zhongli offers some osmanthus jelly as amends, and not knowing what that is, Childe agrees.

Osmanthus jelly turns out to be an absolute delight. Childe happily digs into the wobbly jelly and marvels once again at another taste he’s never experienced but unexpectedly loves. “I swear, everything in Liyue is made of absolute perfection.”

Zhongli looks amused at how he’s speaking around a mouthful of jelly. “Have you been to Liyue?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t traveled much. It’s hard to tell which cities are welcoming to us,” Childe trails off, gesturing at his head where a pair of brown ears are nestled in his messy hair.

Zhongli’s eyes flick to Childe’s ears, like it’s the first time that he has properly seen them. “Hmm.”

“How do they treat hybrids back in Liyue?” Childe has heard of some regions, like Inazuma, where things were even worse for hybrids. 

Zhongli takes a slow sip of his tea, having taken to the black tea Childe introduced to him. “We make no discrimination between races. Liyue welcomes all in its harbour, as we thrive on trade and good relationships across the land. Hybrid discrimination is frowned upon in the city. I made sure of it.”

“ You made sure of it?” Childe asks curiously.

“Ah, I used to work as a funeral parlour consultant. I managed the business side of things, oversaw appointments and such but over the years built up a certain amount of influence in the city’s laws. The funeral parlour has been servicing the city for centuries and we know many old families who have a hand in the laws.”

Intrigued, Childe forgets about his jelly and leans forward eagerly. Every gem he learns about Zhongli only makes him more interesting, every titbit offered on Liyue makes it more magical. “How was Liyue like?”

“If you had travelled to Liyue, you would have seen a welcome and safe port city. It is full of life in every corner and unlike anywhere else I have visited.” Zhongli’s voice takes on a wistful tone and he nods at Childe. “You would have liked it.”

With a hook like that, Childe can’t help but take the bait. “Tell me more.”

Zhongli speaks of the smell of the sea in the air and the noise of the wet markets by the harbour. He speaks so lovingly and vividly that Childe’s heart aches for a land he has never seen, for a vibrant community snuffed out by the harsh world.

“Do you miss it?” He dares to ask, a cruel question.

Zhongli smiles sadly back at him. “I feel like I crafted Liyue with my own hands, watched it bloom under my care. At least I have my memories to accompany me.”

“Tell me about your favourite dish then?”

“It is called Crystal Shrimp, a deceptively simple dish but one made with care and served on every table in Liyue. The shrimp is caught fresh and sold at the harbour each morning, then wrapped in a delicate rice flour skin. The skill needed to fold these thin wrapper skins can only be honed over time and you can tell a master’s skill by how many pleats they can make.”

Childe has always had a short attention span but he hangs onto Zhongli’s every word, letting the man’s deep voice paint pictures of a place he will never be able to see.

“I wish I could have been.” The words slip out before Childe can even feel them form in his mind but he agrees all the same. 

“I think,” Zhongli’s eyes are fond, brimming with pride over his homeland. “Liyue would have loved you too.”

Some days, the weight of the burden and responsibilities that he bears feels like a life sentence.

Childe buries his face in his hands and slumps over his desk, unwilling to look at the papers in front of him any longer.

The Fatui has been relentless lately in the western part of the city, often raiding the store he has there and threatening to drag his staff to jail for operating without a license. It’s an empty threat because Childe has always been meticulous in making sure every guideline, rule and regulation was abided to, just so there would be less instances like this.

Regardless of whether the claims are true, there is enough fear among his staff that three had resigned. 

If this goes on, even the customers might catch wind of it and rumours might spread to his other stores, affecting the livelihood and safe space of many others.

He needs to figure something out, but he’s tired.

Childe sighs, pulling at his hair in frustration as he feels unwanted tears start to form in his eyes. He cannot do this.  All his life, he’s been fighting for himself, then for others, and he’s exhausted, tired of clawing his way into circles and situations where he’s so clearly unwanted, tired of pretending that it’s okay he isn’t given the respect of rights he deserves.

He’s worked so hard, buried the wild child within him so deeply that the charming persona that is Childe has become second skin. 

Once upon a time, he was Ajax. Ran away from home at fourteen, fell in with the wrong crowd almost immediately. In the days where his only focus was survival, fighting had been the fuel and thrill keeping him alive, until the sudden death of his closest friends in a mediated ambush by a street gang of humans had shocked him to the core. As his mates bled out in front of him, no human police or medic willing to care, he knew the only way to earn any sort of respect in this society was to act like them - like he had all the confidence in the world, just like any other human.

He left the lost teen named Ajax behind a long time ago, but now he’s tired of being Childe.

“Childe, are you alright?”

“Oh honey .” Zhongli is by his side in an instant, his hands coming up to cup Childe’s face and gently thumb away his tears. It’s a term of endearment that he sometimes hears from the rude customers at the stores, twisting into something vile, but from Zhongli’s lips, it comes across as caring and gentle. It’s the final straw that makes Childe fully burst into tears, letting out the emotions that he has bottled up for years.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Zhongli perches on the desk and cradles Childe to his chest like he’s precious, letting him soak his shirt in his tears. His hands rub soothingly down his back, voice low as he murmurs out a string of mostly unintelligible words. “Let it all out, Childe.”

By the time Childe has tired his tears out, the night has fallen upon them and they’re both curled up on the end-of-bed bench almost too small for two.

Mortification hits him like a brick and he hastily wipes his eyes with the back of his hands, knowing full well that he looks a mess right now. Even so, he doesn’t want to pull away, not when Zhongli has him half on his lap, his arm a warm comforting weight around his waist. Childe worries his lip and finally lets his heart win out, letting his face fall back into Zhongli’s nape with a whimper.

Zhongli offers him a soft smile but doesn’t press for more, giving Childe the space to either explain his tears or ask him to leave. He cards his fingers through Childe’s hair slowly for another few beats and says, his voice low and gravelly, “I recognise when someone looks like they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders but my Childe, if you let me, I will carry it with you.”

It’s enough to make Childe want to burst into tears again.

Seconds tick by before he gathers his thoughts enough to explain the situation softly, forehead still pressed against Zhongli’s shoulder, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“I’m not sure how long Riptide can hold out if this continues,” he finally dares to admit, shifting back to see Zhongli looking down at him with a tense jaw and steely eyes. He hasn’t even seen anything but polite and elegant from Zhongli, but this, the way he clenches his jaw in anger - on Childe’s behalf - steals Childe’s coherent thoughts away.

“I am not familiar with Snezhnayan law, but I have dabbled with similar matters in Liyue,” Zhongli says. “Let me help you.”

Gently, he lifts Childe, almost amusingly effortlessly, and shifts him until they’re side by side. He shifts through the stacks of papers and starts reading through the search warrant the Fatui had issued, a frown settling on his lips. Childe hands him anything he asks for and answers the rapid fire questions he shoots at him.

By the end of the night, they have a compilation of every permit Riptide has applied for and the proof of  every corresponding document required under the law. Zhongli promises to get in touch with some prodigy lawyer he knows named Yanfei to confirm that Riptide remains firmly in the law’s favour, and Childe is feeling better than he had all day.

“Thank you, this is actually fantastic. I think we might actually have a chance.” Childe shakes his head at the mess of the papers in front of them, exhaustion of the night slowly catching up to him. 

Zhongli’s knuckles brush across his cheek, and he instinctively leans into the touch. “If you ever need help, I’ll be here.”

For the first time. Childe doesn’t feel alone.

The next weekend, Childe sends Zhongli out on a grocery run, insisting that he wants a particular brand of sour cream to make proper blinis.

Zhongli sets off with the hefty bag of mora in hand, but when he comes home with the groceries in tow, Childe immediately pounces on him and slaps his hands over his eyes. “I’ve a surprise for you!”

“I smell something nice,” Zhongli says, a smile tugging at his lips, not even questioning Childe’s behavior and allowing himself to be manhandled to wherever Childe wants him.

Childe guides them both to the dining table and finally unshields Zhongli’s eyes. “Tada, it’s your favourite crystal dumplings!”  He rambles on nervously, “I figured it might be easy to make since it’s similar to pelmeni but ah, I couldn’t for the life of me accomplish ten pleats. Just seven will do for now right? I promise to improve next time!”

“Next time,” Zhongli echoes, then gestures at the new teacup set he has never seen before. “And this?” 

“Pu er tea! I asked a favour from a friend to look out for it. I heard that tea goes well with dumplings?” Childe says, suddenly unsure if he has crossed any cultural taboos. Zhongli might like the black tea common in Snezhnaya but more than once, he has lamented that it doesn’t have the depth of the tea from his homeland.

“Childe, I-“ Zhongli is lost for words, his hands coming up to cup the small teacup tenderly. “You shouldn’t have.” His face goes slack, so completely blank that Childe starts getting nervous. Then, unexpectedly, the mask breaks, a wave of clear anguish washing over Zhongli’s features. 

Childe sucks in a sudden breath. “I prepared this to see you smile, but why do you look so melancholy? Did I offend you?”

“I am not sad, Childe. I am touched. In all these months of wandering I had hoped- I was not aware of what I was looking for.” Zhongli abandons the teacup and places his hand over Childe’s, his palm still warm from the hot tea. 

“I am glad you landed at my door then.” This confession comes out in a whisper, Childe captivated by the emotion in Zhongli’s voice and not willing to break the moment.

“Perhaps it is fate that brought me here, Celestia’s blessing.” Zhongli turns Childe’s palm over, lacing their fingers together as Childe watches, mesmerised. Then with a wordless mutual agreement, he tugs, pulling them both away from the kitchen over to his bedroom.

The way they fall together is electric, automatic. Childe thinks he’s the one who lunges for Zhongli first, though Zhongli is eager to close the distance and when their lips meet, instantly hot and hungry, Childe feels like he’s been set on fire, arousal burning through his veins.

Zhongli is unexpectedly rough, his mouth domineering and guiding Childe’s, but Childe doesn’t give in without a fight, greedily nipping back and running his tongue across teeth that almost seem too sharp for a human.

There is nothing chaste about their first kiss. Good . Childe likes some excitement in his pleasure, loves the way Zhongli flips him on his back effortlessly, relishes the way Zhongli has his hand fisted in his hair possessively, exploratory touches petting the base of Childe’s ears, right where he’s the most sensitive.

He finds it exhilarating that he has reduced Zhongli, always so put together and proper, into this. Strong hands grip onto his hips so tightly he is certainly going to be bruised tomorrow and he rolls his hips up once experimentally just to draw a groan from Zhongli.

“Impossible.” He feels Zhongli murmur against his skin and then Zhongli is sinking his teeth down on Childe’s shoulder and pulling a gasp out of his throat, entirely unprepared for the primal wave of arousal that shoots through him. It’s too intimate for a first encounter, too reminiscent of old mating rituals that have entirely been wiped out, but Childe can hardly be bothered to care at the moment, not when Zhongli interchanges between mouthing soothingly at the bruised but not broken skin and biting lightly on whatever patch of skin he can get his teeth on.

Archons, he’s going to be marked up tomorrow.

Throwing his head back in a moan, he grabs blindly to pull at Zhongli’s long hair, yanking his head forward to taste his mouth-

-and then he freezes. A pair of glowing gold eyes stare back at him in concern, the pupils narrowed into slits so unnatural that they seem almost reptilian. 

“Are you okay? You smell scared. Did I push you too fast?”

Childe shoves hard at Zhongli’s chest and scrambles backwards until his back hits the headboard, his blood running cold and his ears flat on his head. 

“Zhongli- Zhongli, your eyes just turned golden.”

In a split second, he sees fear flash across Zhongli’s face, out of place among his beautiful, porcelain features. It makes him look entirely vulnerable, breathtakingly so and Childe cannot draw his eyes away despite the thundering of his heart. 

Zhongli leaps off the bed as if wounded and clutches at his disheveled clothing, mouth opening but then snapping shut with an audible swallow, loud in the tenseness filling the room.

Childe presses himself against the headboard. His eyes scan over Zhongli’s form, so normal, so human, and finally registers the words Zhongli just said to him.“I smell scared. You can smell me?”

Zhongli flattens his mouth into a grim line. “Childe, I think it’s time I told you what I am.”

Not who he is, what he is. Grabbing the baseball bat he keeps under his bed for dangerous moments like this, Childe grits his teeth and barks, “Kitchen.”

Zhongli obediently lets himself be prodded behind the kitchen island, Childe on the other side closest to the door, so there’s a safe distance and barrier between them and an easy escape for Childe if the situation calls for it. 

Zhongli’s expression is schooled into scary neutrality. Childe recognises it immediately, it’s the same persona Childe wears when he’s negotiating a hard deal with clients or asking another hybrid harasser to leave his store. It reveals nothing and that’s what makes everything scarier. He has no idea what Zhongli will say, even if there’s an inkling of suspicion nagging at him. 

Does he even know who Zhongli is? He is a man who waxes lyrical about culture and history, who appreciates the fine art of cooking, who has rebuilt Childe’s shattered confidence with his kind and heartfelt encouragements - but was any of that even real?

Did he just put himself, Riptide, his employees in needless danger?

“You might want to sit down for this.” Zhongli eyes the couch in the living room pointedly but Childe clutches the baseball bat to his chest protectively. 

“Nuh uh. Your eyes started glowing. How do I know you’re not dangerous, mysterious man who landed on my porch? I’ll have you know fighting my way up the ranks was how I survived on the streets.”

“I assure you I have no intentions of hurting you and I do not doubt your fighting prowess. You have been nothing but hospitable to me, Childe. Will you sit down?” Zhongli asks again. He still sounds so frustratingly calm that Childe wants to shake him.

Childe shakes his head stubbornly. “We’re keeping this barrier between us.” 

Zhongli sighs, long suffering but relenting. “Have you heard of the legend of Dvalin?”

Realisation dawns quickly on Childe. Dvalin was the legendary protector of Mondstadt, the most powerful hybrid ever created from the pure blood of dragons, and a war machine so feared that dragon hybrids were outlawed from then on. 

“You’re a dragon hybrid.”

Zhongli contemplates this, lets the seconds roll past languidly like he hasn’t just accidentally revealed a huge birth secret. “I would not call myself a hybrid, when I am the dragon.”

Childe gapes at him. “You are the- You’re-”

Zhongli nods, crossing his arms and says matter-of-factly. “You might know me as Morax.”

Not just a dragon hybrid, the most revered of all creatures, worshipped as gods among humans and hybrids alike, but the Archon himself - the source of the pure energy used to crystallise the first line of human-creature warriors to ever exist, the blood source of Dvalin, the ruler of the lands .

“Archons,” Childe whispers, unable to say more than a curse.

“The first one,” Zhongli confirms and this time, Childe’s knees buckle under him. Zhongli leans across the counter and catches him just in time before his head smashes against the table.

“I should be sitting for this actually,” Childe says weakly. 

Childe does not allow Zhongli to make tea, as he suggested.

“So you can poison me?” Childe bites out and immediately regrets it when unmistakable hurt clouds Zhongli’s eyes.

“Is that all you think of me? I would never do that to a friend.” Each word dripping with disappointment, when Zhongli was the one who hid his identity.

A friend . Childe scoffs. He feels reckless now, emotions running at a high and his fight and flight instincts kicking in. His fingers clench into a fist, itching to just test it out on this living, breathing god in front of him, to see how a hybrid would fare against its source of its power.

It’s entirely fucked up that another small, louder part of him wants to submit to the sheer power Zhongli holds. He wants to reach out to Zhongli and tuck himself in his arms for comfort, wants nothing more than to press his mouth against Zhongli’s warm, welcoming one again. He just has to lean in, grasp Zhongli’s collar and tug him close, wrap his tail around that slim waist-

He’s so distracted in his thoughts and desires that he almost misses Zhongli speaking.

“I need you to know that I did not intend to hide my identity from you," he says, completely sincere. "When the storms hit Liyue, it was ferocious enough that I knew it could only be the actions of an old friend I trapped under the Liyue stone fields. I tracked down the demon water god Osial who was on a rampage of revenge and for a week straight, fought to subdue the storms he had unleashed on the beloved land I had crafted with my own hands.”

With each word that comes out of Zhongli’s mouth, Childe knows he shouldn’t forgive so easily, but just like that, his fear and anger slips away. 

“We were once protectors of Liyue, hand in hand, until Osial succumbed to erosion. The weight of eternity got to his mind and I had to take drastic measures to lock him away before his madness destroyed humanity.” Zhongli’s eyes are hauntingly broken as he gazed off into the distance, lost in the history and betrayal of a partner he deeply trusted. “When he finally broke free almost two thousands years later, he was a dark cloud of vengeance and he took it out on what he knew I loved the most.”

“If you saved Liyue, why did you leave Liyue?” Childe knows the storms stopped suddenly, so surely that must have been Zhongli’s doing.

“I bargained for its safety with my Gnosis. In return, I was banished from the land and I could not return. It is why I did not correct you when you called me a human. I am as good as a human now, stripped of my Gnosis and my home,” Zhongli says sadly. 

“You have a home with me,” Childe blurts out before he can stop himself. “I mean. However long you want to stay.”

The look Zhongli - Morax! - gives him is so hopeful that Childe feels his own spirits lift with the same sort of sudden desire, a sharp shift in the mood. “For however long you’ll have me, I want to stay here with you, Childe. Even though I have lived for thousands of years, I had to always wear the crown of Morax, reigning fairly over my people and keeping them at a distance. I was not lying when I said I understood your burden in protecting the ones you love too well.”

Zhongli’s voice goes quieter, and with a quick glance at Childe, he dares to join their hands again, the touch making him breathe out the anxiety in his chest. “My months wandering across Teyvat were more difficult than I imagined. I was so used to the warmth that Liyue gave that living among humans again and discovering their cold natures came as a shock to me. But Childe, you have shown me what true friendship feels like and I understand for the first time what home truly feels like.”

“You must have felt lonely.” Once again, Zhongli has stolen Childe’s words, rendering him unable to think or utter more than the first thing that floats across his mind. 

In the same way Ajax had become Childe, he could understand how Morax wanted to be Zhongli

Zhongli’s smile is soft. Sad. “I did not know I was until I met you.” 

Childe’s breath hitches. “You don’t have to be lonely anymore.” He wonders if his own expression mirrors the lovestruck one on Zhongli’s face, wonders how he could ever have doubted Zhongli when he has been nothing but wonderful, when he’s always felt completely safe in Zhongli’s presence. 

“I truly believe Celestia brought us together.” Ever so tender, Zhongli brings their grasped hands to his lips and kisses the back of Childe’s hand, a mere brushing of lips that sends a shiver down Childe’s spine, an unspoken promise that carries all of his affection. 

“I can take on anything now right? With a dragon at my side?” Childe says with gusto, defaulting to humour to break the tension in the moment. His mood is recovering at breakneck speed and he would do anything to wipe the sadness from Zhongli’s mind, maybe even continue what they were doing before this whole tense conversation begun.

Zhongli seems to be in no such rush, taking his time to shower more kisses across each of Childe’s fingers, then down to his wrist. He lets a hint of his teeth peek out, and Childe knew it. Those are fangs!  “I believe Riptide will only flourish from now on. As an unintended consequence, you will find that luck will follow you wherever you go. Though I no longer carry my gnosis, I have Qilin blood in me and l carry a large amount of yang energy that will bless anyone near me with prosperity and good fortunes, especially those with consistent exposure to it.”

“Oh, will you be exposing yourself a lot to me?” Childe teases, easily falling back into their usual antics. If Zhongli has fangs, what other surprises does he hide? Childe can't wait to find out.

Zhongli tilts his head and asks mischievously, “How do you like having a pet Archon?”