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When Zhongli first meets Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger and the agent of chaos the Tsaritsa has hand-picked for him at the welcome banquet held in his honor he is caught off guard. The Fatui is not what he expected at all.
His first thought when he sees him is that he’s young, far too young to be responsible for the carnage he sows in his wake. The second is that the Tsaritsa’s Vanguard commands the attention of the room with his mere presence. He may not meet traditionally Liyuean beauty standards but he is certainly distinctive.
When it is finally Zhongli’s turn to pay his respects to the host the Harbinger gives him a long appraising look, flashes him a winning smile and asks him to call him Childe. He is soon forced to entertain other guests, but Zhongli can feel his gaze burning in his back for most of the evening. If Zhongli's own eyes are drawn to the man throughout dinner it is merely to keep an eye on him.
There is something magnetic about the man. About the easy way he holds himself, the surefire confidence that Zhongli might find distasteful in other circumstances. The promise of something more, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.
Young, beautiful and hungry. It’s a dangerous combination.
And from their first meeting onward his attention seems to be set on Zhongli.
At first Zhongli fears that somehow the Harbinger has figured him out. That he knows who he truly is or at least suspects. To his relief, it soon becomes clear that is not the case.
The Harbinger is simply pursuing him.
At first he'd thought it a passing fancy of an energetic youth, alone in a foreign nation. Yet Childe's interest only seems to intensify the more Zhongli spends time with him and as Zhongli has agreed to teach him about Liyuean customs they meet often enough. Childe's been persistent in getting closer to him, showering him with gifts and inviting him to all the best restaurants in town, sliding nicely in as a constant part of Zhongli's daily life.
Zhongli did not expect to enjoy being chased.
It hardly takes a month in Liyue before Childe makes his interest in the funeral consultant explicitly known. That evening they are dining out for the third time that week. Childe has been the most generous host once again, sparing no expense as he’s booked them a cabinet at the Liuli Pavillion. The food has been excellent and the wine overflowing. Their conversation has long since moved on from work to lighter subjects.
It's a hot Liyuean summer night. The Harbinger has unbuttoned his jacket to accommodate for the heat, revealing a tantalizing sliver of his chest. The skin there, untouched by the sun, is so pale it looks almost translucent, marred only by a single jagged scar. A smattering of freckles reaches down from his collar bones just to disappear under the thin fabric of his undershirt. As the Fatui eats, still clumsy with his chopsticks, he keeps leaning forward, further exposing himself. Zhongli finds his gaze slipping down every time. It’s hardly dignified. As Childe leans down once again he smirks as he catches Zhongli’s stare, clearly aware of what has drawn Zhongli's eye.
Zhongli finds his throat suddenly dry.
When he reaches for the wine bottle Childe intercepts, grasping a hold of his hand. He does not release his hold as he pours more wine to them both. "So, I've wined and dined you for weeks now and gotten you all kinds of gifts. What's a man to do to get your attention, Mr. Zhongli?"
Zhongli should pull away but he doesn't, instead choosing to meet Childe’s gaze. "You have always had my attention, master Childe."
Childe brings Zhongli's gloved hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on its bejeweled backside. It's a formal greeting in Fontaine, a show of respect. Nothing especially forward about it, if they happened to be nobles from Fontaine. They are not.
"I think we are talking about different kinds of attention.” When Zhongli doesn't immediately answer, Childe keeps going, kissing each of his knuckles in turn before sucking his thumb in his mouth. He bites at it playfully while watching for Zhongli's reaction, his eyes half-lidded and hungry. Zhongli can feel the edge of his teeth through the fine leather of his gloves. “Or not. I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes, the same way you look at some especially expensive delicacies so I must be doing something right.”
Has he really been that obvious? Childe really can be quite distracting. It is true that he has been enjoying Childe's company and indulged in his presence more than is strictly necessary for overseeing the fulfilment of his contract but Zhongli should not encourage him further. This man is here to play a part in his plan. To get attached will only needlessly complicate things.
On the other hand, to affront the man would not be in his best interest either.
Zhongli only barely remembers to will the skin of his arms to appear human in time for Childe's exploring mouth to reach his wrist. The Harbinger pushes the starched sleeve up and away to press his lips on the pulse point there and sucks.
The contact of skin on skin makes Zhongli shiver. How bold of this boy to try and mark the Geo Archon without permission even if he isn't aware that what he's doing would have been seen as sacrilege once upon a time.
Childe’s lips curl into a smile. “You do know what I’m talking about, I’m sure,” he murmurs against Zhongli’s skin, never losing eye contact.
The words should not send heat pooling down Zhongli's loins.
"This is hardly appropriate for a public place," he says, feeling slightly faint.
Childe’s demeanor changes immediately. Gone is the hungry predator he'd let slip. Back is the Diplomat with a sharp tongue and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Haha, so sorry, Mr. Zhongli. I'm just an ignorant foreigner not used to the Liyuean customs. I mean no offence." With a final brush of his lips against Zhongli's gloved hand Childe lets him go.
Zhongli finds he’s sad to lose that contact.
The Fatui is offering him a graceful exit. He should let this go. See Childe a little less frequently for the next few weeks. Keep their acquaintanceship professional.
Zhongli finds he doesn’t want to. It has been a long while since anyone has caught his attention like this and Zhongli can’t deny he’s intrigued.
Perhaps emboldened by the wine, the phase of the moon or just pure loneliness, Zhongli makes a decision he might regret. "I did not ask you to stop," he says.
Chide looks back up sharply, with a hungry glint in his eyes.
"I do not live far from here, perhaps we can continue this there after we have eaten," Zhongli continues.
"How very forward of you, Mr. Zhongli," the Harbinger laughs and drinks down the rest of his wine, “I find I’m already quite full.”
With Childe peering at him over the rim of his glass Zhongli soon finds he’s eaten enough too.
The walk to his apartment is blessedly short. He rarely lets anyone into his mortal dwelling but tonight Zhongli doesn't care.
They are barely inside the door, when Childe pushes him against a wall, his hands tangling in his hair as he pulls Zhongli in a deep kiss. He’s pressed flush against Zhongli, so Zhongli can feel the growing bulge in his pants between them. Young and eager indeed. It’s easy to be swept away by Childe’s intensity, to answer the kiss just as deeply.
Finally Childe pulls away, letting his forehead rest over Zhongli’s shoulder, groaning, "Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Professor. The way you look at me - I’m all riled up.“
Zhongli hums in agreement. He kisses Childe again, more gently before starts guiding Childe towards the door leading deeper into the apartment "Your shoes, please."
Childe kicks his boots off obediently. When Zhongli opens the door to his bedroom he lets out a long whistle. "I didn't know funeral consultants made this much money."
"I- they do not. I inherited the place." Zhongli looks around himself slightly mortified. He isn't a terrible hoarder for a dragon but things have a tendency to accumulate over several millennia. He is aware that his apartment is on a larger side for a single inhabitant and still hardly spacious enough for his many keepsakes. Only some of his less recognizable treasures are on display in his apartment but there is still enough pottery, scrolls, lacquer work and golden knickknacks to clutter every shelf and table top in sight. The lavish bed is at least empty and neatly made with expensive silk sheets. "I apologize for the disarray."
Childe only gives their surroundings a cursory once over before his concentration is again fully on Zhongli. He pulls away Zhongli’s tie, dropping it carelessly on the floor before unbuttoning his shirt, peppering kisses on his throat and collar bones as soon as they are revealed. The fastenings on Zhongli's coat and waistcoat prove trickier until Zhongli takes pity on him and opens them himself.
Childe easily slides off his own already open jacket but when Zhongli attempts to do the same to his shirt Childe grabs his hands and guides them down. His tone is firm as he says, "No. Not that."
Before Zhongli has time to question why, Childe catches his mouth into another kiss crowding him towards the bed. Together they make quick work of the rest of their clothes. Only the red shirt remains. Like this, in lamplight, Zhongli gets his first proper glimpse of Childe’s mostly naked body. He’s beautiful like this, with the warm light of the lamps making him nearly glow. Yet Zhongli finds himself taken aback by the sheer quantity of scars of every imaginable shape and size littering his skin, from minuscule scratches to what Zhongli thinks must be a poorly healed gash wound left by a sword on his side. A proof of the violent life he’s led despite his young age. Even though they do not take away from his beauty in the least, they are a worrying sign.
Zhongli sits down on the bed before leaning down to rest on his elbows, slowly backing down towards the center of the bed. Childe follows suit, crawling over him on his hands and knees, his lips once again finding Zhongli’s.
Childe's vision flashes and suddenly his hand is covered in viscous and cool hydro substance. His hand wraps easily around both their cocks, settling into an easy rhythm. It's the first time Zhongli has seen him without his gloves on. His hands are rough and calloused, the hands of a warrior devoted more to his weapons than lovers. The scars extend even here, scattered over the backs of his hands and his knuckles. “What do you want?” Childe murmurs against Zhongli’s neck even as he shudders from the contact.
"There is oil in the drawer of my night stand if we are to take this further." Vision based lubricant is all well and good until the wielder loses concentration.
The movement of Childe’s hand comes to a stop as he chuckles, "So, you aren't quite as straight-laced as you make yourself out to be."
"Whatever do you mean? There is no shame in partaking in the pleasures of the flesh."
"The pleasures of the fl- Really Mr. Zhongli? Do you have to talk like that when we're about to fuck?" The hand next to Zhongli's face on the bedding curls into a fist. To the Archon’s surprise there's an unmistakable blush creeping on Childe's cheeks.
That something so harmless might shake the famed Harbinger's composure. How delightful. Zhongli wants to see more. There is much you can learn about a mortal by sleeping with them, after all, Zhongli has learnt over the years. He wonders what it might reveal about the Childe. "How could I not when the reactions I get from you are so enticing," he says, smiling serenely.
"Just for that I'm gonna make you scream on my cock," Childe grits through his teeth. That sounds more like something Zhongli would have expected.
"You assume you are going to be the one to lead then?"
"Hmm? Yes, I'm the one who's been chasing after you, aren't I? Besides, I outrank you."
"In Snezhnaya perhaps."
The Harbinger laughs at his answer. He takes a long appraising look at him and smirks. "And I'm stronger. I could easily overpower you."
No, he could not. But it is in Zhongli's best interest not to let him know that. Besides the idea of feeling Childe inside him sends a pleasant thrill through him.
"This is not a fight. You have a very give and take approach to lovemaking." Zhongli shakes his head in equal parts amusement and exaspiration.
Childe shrugs. "Why make it more complicated?"
"Complexity brings variety. That in turn can only enhance the pleasure. However, I am not opposed to your suggestion. On my terms. I will show you that to receive does not make one any weaker." He runs his hands through Childe’s hair and yanks his head down to whisper in his ear, "I am going to prepare myself and you are going to watch. Keep your hands to yourself."
"Fine, you're pretty enough to put on display anyway," Childe says and gives a breathy laugh before reaching for the drawer. He tosses the bottle of clear liquid to Zhongli before propping himself obediently against the headboard. The smirk is back on his face.
"No touching until I say so." Zhongli leans back on his elbows again, maintaining eye contact with Childe. He wants to see his every reaction. With how he's positioned Zhongli gets to enjoy the view of Childe's magnificent physique. His toned stomach and chest certainly worthy of being immortalized in fine marble. It's a pity that the red shirt is still there. Even though he must admit the color suits him, a wonderful contrast against his pale skin.
Zhongli isn't mortal and any details in his vessel are subject to change as he wishes. He doesn’t exactly need stretching. Yet he is in no hurry as he coats his fingers generously in oil before reaching his hand down, trailing his hand down his cock before moving towards his taint, circling the hole lazily before pushing in the first finger.
Chide groans, "Man, professor. I didn't know you could be this obscene."
A second finger soon follows as he pumps in and out of himself his gaze fixed on the Harbinger. Taking in the hungry look in his eyes and the way Childe's cock curves against his stomach, fully hard. Enjoying the knowledge that he has this effect on Childe.
Zhongli takes his time, opening himself up, until he can easily sink three fingers inside up to the third knuckle. By the time he's done, Childe is flushed and near panting, the first drips of precome. Zhongli smiles as he pulls the fingers out slowly, relishing the way Childe’s breath hitches. "Do you see now what I mean about the virtue of complexity and taking your time?"
"Haah, Archons, how are you still so calm?"
Zhongli’s smile widens as he moves closer to Childe. "On your knees please. I want to sit in your lap."
Zhongli isn't sure what folly makes him choose this position. It's almost too intimate, he thinks, as he clambers over Childe’s lap, their chests almost touching one another. If this is just about taking care of a physical need surely something more impersonal, perhaps from behind would have been more appropriate.
But there is something about the opportunity to see Childe's face when they do this that Zhongli just cannot let pass.
He is not disappointed. As he lowers himself down on Childe’s cock he’s rewarded by a punched out groan and when he starts to slowly move up and down Childe's eyes fly wide open, staring right at him in awe. For a moment Zhongli is lost in their brilliant blue. Something about his expression makes Zhongli falter. The Harbinger looks almost vulnerable as his mouth parts ever so slightly.
It feels wonderful too, the drag of Childe’s cock inside him and the little jerks of his hips rising to meet him every time he comes down. Childe's hands sneak to grab on his buttocks and Zhongli relishes the feeling of strength in those arms as he easily supports his weight.
Childe buries his face into Zhongli’s neck. "Shit. You take me so well," he mumbles against Zhongli’s skin before placing openmouthed kisses on his collarbones and chest.
Zhongli quickens his pace, rolling his hips as he moves. One of Childe’s hands tangles into Zhongli’s hair at the base of his skull. He pulls Zhongli down into a messy kiss full of desperation.
Zhongli braces his hands against the headboard as Childe’s hand sneaks around his cock, pumping in rhythm to Zhongl’s movements. His other arm is circling Zhongli’s waist, pulling him closer.
The change in angle makes Zhongli shiver, as the tip of Childe’s cock brushes his insides just right. It won’t take long now, Zhongli thinks.
Zhongli brings his hips down hard and Childe stiffens. "Ahn, Z-Zhongli. Oh fuck," he moans and sinks his teeth into Zhongli's shoulder as he shudders through his release, never releasing his hold of Zhongli's cock.
Zhongli is not a masochist. At least he does not think he is but the sharp feel of those teeth that would surely draw blood if he were human sends a new fire through his veins. When he comes with a gasp he feels exhilarated. He hasn’t felt this alive in centuries.
They are both breathing hard when they fall down to lie down on the bed on their side, still intertwined. Childe is warm and flushed and clinging to him so tightly he could smother a weaker man. At some point Zhongli's hands have slipped under his shirt without his notice. Now that Zhongli is coming down from the heights of pleasure he recognizes just what he is touching.
There is a lattice of ridged scar tissue on Childe's back, even more pronounced than on his front. It's strangely symmetrical. When Zhongli runs his hands down the crisscross pattern to feel it better, Childe flinches as if he's just been slapped.
"Don't," he hisses and pulls away.
Even as he pulls his shirt tighter around himself Zhongli can see the edges of the scars peeking from under the hem of it now that he knows what to look for.
These are not battle scars. They are lash marks. Older than most of his other scars, pale and faded. Stretched too, either by extensive movements of the skin while they were still healing - or he's been whipped when he was still growing.
Zhongli is surprised by the flash of cold fury he feels at the thought.
The moment of intimacy is lost. Chide collects his clothes in a hurry, putting on his underwear the wrong way in his rush before proceeding to pull on his pants. His shirt is still unbuttoned and his jacket haphazardly thrown over his shoulder when he's already halfway out the door.
"This was nice. Let's do it again some other time, yeah?" Childe calls over his shoulder without looking Zhongli in the eyes. He tries to appear nonchalant but doesn't quite manage to pull it off.
Just like that he's gone, leaving Zhongli alone on the bed with a flurry of emotions he did not expect. Anger, worry, excitement, joy, all muddled together in a way Zhongli can hardly make sense of any of them. He's misjudged this, misjudged Childe. He's something far more complex than the convenient tool of destruction he had thought to have been gifted. There are layers to Childe that he hasn't seen yet, ones he wasn't even aware of. He’s sad to see him leave and not because he is worried about the success of his grand plan.
Somehow the Harbinger has managed to crawl under Zhongli’s thick skin in just a few short weeks and made him want. He is both elated and terrified to see where this leads. He can only hope he hasn’t scared Childe away.
---
Childe does come back, after only about a week. They don't talk about it but something between them has shifted. They gravitate towards one another as surely as the moon waxes and wanes. It isn’t sensible but neither of them seems able to stay away.
It's only months later when they have spent much more time together in and out of bed that Zhongli finally dares to ask about Childe's back. He has mapped every inch of his skin by now, kissed or caressed every one of his dozens of scars, except for those. None of the others seem to bother the other man. Those he carries with his head held high, almost like badges of honor. He’s told Zhongli the stories of most of the largest ones, each of them a memento of a powerful enemy or a hard battle won. But he still doesn’t like showing him his back.
When they are lying together in bed after what Zhongli is both elated and afraid has truly become making love in the truest sense of the word Zhongli runs his hands down Childe’s spine as gently as he can. Like this, warm and sated in bed, basking in the afterglow Childe sometimes opens up, shows more of himself than is perhaps wise. Childe still stiffens under his touch, even as Zhongli buries his lips in his hair but he does not pull away. "You still do not like me touching these," Zhongli murmurs.
“No, I don't,” Childe snaps. His answer is curt, a clear dismissal on the subject.
Zhongli refuses to give up. "Would you tell me what happened?"
"Why do you want to know? It’s not a happy or particularly interesting story."
"I am merely curious. Indulge me?" Zhongli presses a gentle kiss at the nape of Childe’s neck, well above the scars. An encouragement.
Childe is silent for a long moment. When he finally speaks his voice is barely above a whisper, “I broke the law. I disobeyed the Tsaritsa.”
It's not what Zhongli expected to hear. From what he has seen and heard Childe has always been fiercely loyal to her. Has his quick temper gotten the better of him some time in the past?
Childe’s voice is steady as he continues. It betrays no emotion. "I was just a stupid kid back then, new to the Fatui. I was bored and homesick. Didn't know what was good for me so I tried to run away. Twice."
Zhongli’s breath catches in his throat.
"I was already in Her Majesty's service. I'd said the vows. You can't just quit after that. The first time… It was only the cane. The second - well, you've seen for yourself." Childe's hand reaches unconsciously over his shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the edge of the scars. "Pulcinella… He's my senior in the Fatui, the one who recruited me, when he whipped me he gave me a talk. Made me see what an honor I was trying so hard to throw away. I learned my lesson after that. He was pleased. He'd started to worry that I'd been a waste of his time."
"Why would he think that?" Zhongli hisses. Childe glances at him over his shoulder, frowning slightly.
"It’s just the law," Childe shrugs, "those who run for the third time don't get another chance." His tone is even and matter of fact, as if he were discussing the changes in the weather.
Zhongli opens and closes his mouth, unsure how to respond. A child. The Tsaritsa had punished a child for no graver sin than wanting to go home, made him see a natural feeling as a weakness. She would have killed him for it. And he’d still devoted himself to her.
There’s a gaping wound in Childe’s soul he does not know how to fix.
Something in his expression must give him away because suddenly anger flashes across Childe's face, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't look at me like that. Like you pity me. It was my own fault." It's the first time in the conversation he's shown any emotion at all.
"I am sorry you had to go through that," Zhongli stammers.
Childe scoffs. "It was a long time ago anyway. It doesn't matter."
It clearly does, with how hard Childe tries to hide it.
Childe clams up, after. All his walls that Zhongli has painstakingly ground down over the months are up again in an instant. He pulls away from Zhongli’s embrace, gathering the sheets around himself to cover up his scars as he lies on his side, curled tightly around himself.
“Childe,” Zhongli’s voice trails into nothing. He gets no response.
It twists Zhongli heart to hear Childe speak of himself with such disregard. It's a painful reminder that the man in Zhongli's arms still sees himself as a tool. That he's Fatui and an elite guard to the Tsaritsa at that. Here on loan only.
Worse still, he too is using Childe as a tool, to advance his own agenda. He is no better than the Tsaritsa in that regard.
He has been selfish and closed his eyes to the facts. What they've been doing is dangerous. No one can serve two Archons. When this pretense inevitably comes to an end - and end it must as the Rite of Descension is fast approaching - Zhongli has to be prepared to let Childe go. When he does leave there can be no question of where his loyalties lie. For his sake.
“I am sorry,” Zhongli tries again, apologizing both for the pain he has just made Childe feel and for all that is yet to come. As insignificant as mere words are, it’s the least he can do. "Forgive me for bringing this up."
When he reaches for Childe this time he allows his touch at least. Zhongli wraps his arms around him as tightly as he dares, wishing to shelter him from all harm this short moment he is still allowed.