"New young upstart, Tartaglia, also known as Childe by fans and colleagues, already makes Russia's national team," the news reporter announced.

An image of a bright, smiling young man appeared on the screen. Flaming hair, perfectly fit, burning determination behind his eyes, competitiveness in every aspect of him. He wore Russia's red jersey, with white shorts. The image shows him during his first practice with the international Russian team, kicking the soccer ball so hard the fake grass of the field flies around the camera's aesthetic shot.

"During his first practice with the team, he scored five goals against the current team's second best player, and nearly beat the captain in a 1v1 deathmatch he insisted would be enjoyable. The match was unscheduled, but it seemed that the team didn't mind letting the rookie have some fun," the other announcer continued.

"Shit," Hu Tao muttered.

"I know," Xiao sighed.

"This isn't good!" Hu Tao panicked.

"We're doomed!" Keqing already gave up.

"Hey, no we're not!" Ganyu insisted. "We have a secret weapon."

"Zhongli is not a secret weapon," Xiao rolled his eyes. "He's a very well-known, popular, loved weapon."

The soccer players of China's international team continued to fret over Russia's new member.

While the countries were on relatively good terms, for years their sports teams had been rivals. During last winter olympics, the China-Russia ski-race was so intense that someone nearly died, and the game had to be cancelled. Last summer olympics, the two had tied with equal immense power in their gymnastics.

The soccer teams were no exception.

"The world cup doesn't guarantee we'll actually be playing Russia," Zhongli mentioned. "It is actually a low probability."

"Unless we both make it to finals," Hu Tao reasoned.

"This Tartaglia guy was captain of his college team and went straight to internationals immediately upon graduating," Keqing read off of her phone. "Wow. He's a fan favorite due to his aggressive behavior. This image shows how he got sixteen penalties in one game. He even broke someone's knee cap once."

"So aggressive and talented," Hu Tao dragged a hand over her face dramatically. "But we've got Sir Capitan over here, so we're better off, right?"

Hu Tao motioned to the team captain, Zhongli.

Zhongli was an interesting one. He wasn't considered old by normal standards, at the prime age of 26 years old, but by the soccer industry standards he was certainly aging. He was world-famous, and somehow never missed the ball. Of course, he can't be perfect, and he tends to be a bit slow... but he never misses a shot. And his revolutionary planning was incredible.

While Xiao was extremely popular among young people, Zhongli still remained the most famous of China out of all sports.

And if China was Russia's soccer enemy, and Childe was Russia's most popular, then the two would definitely be subject of a lot of news. Most popular of each enemy team... Zhongli should probably get to know the guy before he makes impressions, but he seemed rather violent and narcissistic according to many news articles, so this might not end well.

—

A month passed, and Zhongli's team was traveling to Germany for this year's world cup. Zhongli sighed as he watched the clouds break to allow the plane access to the lower levels of the sky. The landing strip below was lit up brightly due to the darkness of 1 am. Zhongli was jet-lagged already, and tired above everything else. Unlike his colleagues.

"I can't wait to beat up some Russians," Hu Tao grinned. "If we are put against them, that is. It better not be like last time where they didn't make it to semi-finals."

"They are obviously the worst out of the two of us. Even if we did fight, they always lose, and I doubt this Childe guy could carry the team," Keqing reasoned.

"If we do battle, though, I'll beat up that one player as revenge for Venti. Signora, that bitch," Xiao muttered.

"OOOH I forgot about that! This cup's in Germany, you'll get to see your little European boyfriend!" Hu Tao exclaimed.

"I don't care about him, I care about avenging him," Xiao glared back, albeit hiding a small blush.

"'Don't care about him', quote Xiao, the angry emo tsundere boyfriend. I'll write that down and use it against you later when you are so distracted by his playing that you miss the goal by a WHOLE METER," Hu Tao recalled the famous event.

"Stop quarreling, children," Baizhou, their team's medic, said. "You know you love your siblings."

"We aren't siblings," Xiao said at once.

"The media loves to put it that way," Baizhou chuckled. "With Zhongli as the dad. I find it cute."

"Oh, shut up," Xiao hissed.

"I-"

Hu Tao was interrupted by the plane touching down on the runway. Most of the passengers of the private jet lurched forward, surprised by the sudden motion.

Once the plane came to a complete stop and the doors opened, the conversation seemed forgotten, and China's team stepped down the stairs and into the crisp winter air of Germany.

The moment Zhongli stepped off the plane, his eyes drifted towards a bright glimmer of warmth against the snow and ice; he turned to see the image clearly, and caught the eyes of a young man with flaming ginger hair, wearing a gray and red themed outfit.

"Ew," Hu Tao scrunched up her nose. "It's him."

Childe stood relatively far away, his face was definitely recognizable, albeit if he wasn't famous he'd appear a blurry figure. What had captivated Zhongli the moment they made eye contact was the clear glimmer of bright, young, enthusiastic blue eyes locked onto his. They kept staring at each other while China and Russia's teams both got off of their separate planes.

Zhongli and Childe kept staring at each other as Childe neared them. Zhongli finally broke eye contact, turning away to glance at the rest of Russia's team.

Signora, the previous fan favorite, stood by the steps to her team's private jet, glaring up the stairs as Russia's Xiao equivalent, Scaramouche, descended the ladder. He had joined the team two years ago, but never got much media attention. All people knew about him was that he was Japanese but moved to Russia at around ten years old, where he developed an intense hate for Japan's team and strived to beat them at soccer matches.

Tsaritsa, Zhongli's only acquaintance on Russia's team, was the captain. She was strict and quite rude, but whipped her team into shape. Although... Not many players survived her training schedule with a happy, confident attitude: any unique other-than-brooding-and-mean personality traits were squished under her ruthless exercises.

Except for Childe.

His bright, sunshine-y smile was only ten feet away by now, and Zhongli decided he should pay attention back to him.

"Nice to meet you," Childe stuck his hand out to Zhongli.

"Likewise," Zhongli nodded, accepting the handshake.

"Don't get so friendly with the enemy!" Hu Tao hissed.

Childe overheard and turned to see Hu Tao with a chuckle.

"If I get to be mentioned in the name of the legendary Zhongli, I don't care if it's as his enemy," Childe glanced back at Zhongli.

"Aaaand he's a suck up," Hu Tao muttered.

"It's an honor to meet you," Zhongli nodded in response. "And a pleasure to have your praise."

—

The next day, Zhongli saw Childe again.

The public was still kind of crazy after seeing newspapers covered in a picture of their handshake with titles such as 'enemies pretend to put up with each other, but are boiling with anger inside' all the way to 'secret lovers: Zhongli and Childe, hiding their relationship with seemingly friendly handshake- their love child, Xiao, watches from the sidelines'.

Yeah, we don't talk about the paparazzi.

They accidentally met up at a local soccer field. It wasn't well-kept, and was certainly not the one hosting the world cup, precisely why Zhongli chose it for early morning practice: nobody would be there. Apparently, Childe had the same idea.

"Greetings," Zhongli said as he approached Childe, who was sitting on the bleachers, tying his cleat laces.

"What's up, Zhong Dong?" Childe asked with a cheeky grin.

"Is that what the media is calling me now?" Zhongli sighed, elegantly seating himself next to Childe.

"Yup," Childe nodded.

They sat in silence for a moment while Zhongli shuffled through the bag he brought, searching for his cleats.

"Wanna practice together?" Childe suggested out of the blue. "Practicing alone is boring and difficult, plus I'm practicing evasion techniques, so you could help me."

"Oh- sure. I was going to train my stamina, so we could create a plan to satisfy both of our needs," Zhongli contemplated whilst he took off his regular shoes.

"I'm thinking you run as fast as you can like a heat-seeking missile at me, and I dodge you," Childe proposed, grinning. "Stamina plus evasion, right?"

"Sounds promising," Zhongli contributed.

Childe finished preparing himself, and decided to sit next to Zhongli until he was done. It was surprising the two were actually getting along, and it was comforting to have a silent companion for a moment.

Once finished, Childe offered Zhongli a hand to help him up. Zhongli smiled politely and accepted his hand, and from there on the two walked down the bleachers.

Childe didn't let go of Zhongli's hand, though, until they were on the field.

"Start whenever," Childe shrugged, standing about ten feet away from Zhongli.

The two played their training game for about an hour. Time flew by faster than usual for Zhongli: he was used to waking up at 5am, running around a field for an hour, and then going home. Childe, however, made the morning interesting, and dare say, actually enjoyable.

They decided to take a break back at the bleachers where they left their bags, and engaged in small talk. It was truly relaxing to speak with a stranger who seemed engaging to Zhongli, and not have the paparazzi noting every word.

"Maaan I would kill for sushi right now," Childe was saying. "I actually convinced Scaramouche to make me some once, apparently he'd learned when he was younger, and it was SO GOOD! But it brought back bad memories for him so I didn't force him to cook again."

"Our youngest team members, Xingqiu and Chongyun, are acquainted with a professional chef who makes international food. She came with us to Germany, I am certain she would make sushi for you," Zhongli suggested.

"Oh that would be great," Childe smiled brightly. "Do you cook?"

Throughout the conversation, Childe began leaning towards Zhongli. Every sentence, he'd twitch his fingers closer to Zhongli's elegant hand which rested beside him on the freezing metal bleachers.

The two conversed longer, and Childe drew nearer.

"Are you cold?" Zhongli questioned, breaking off the current topic.

"Russians don't get cold," Childe snorted.

Zhongli narrowed his eyes at the ginger. He'd been slowly growing pinker around his cheeks and moving closer to Zhongli: he must be cold, right?

"I brought a jacket just in case," Zhongli mentioned.

"I'm fine," Childe brushed it off.

"HEY! YOU TWO!" A voice startled the flow of conversation.

Zhongli tore his eyes away from Childe and saw Xiao angrily marching towards him.

"Hello there, Xiao," Zhongli waved.

"Why are you getting all lovey-dovey with the enemy? You've been out for two hours! Our scheduled team practice started a while ago!" Xiao power walked closer.

"You're Xiao right?" Childe greeted.

"I'm nothing to you, bitch," Xiao hissed while climbing the bleachers.

"Xiao, don't treat Tartaglia that way," Zhongli scolded.

"You're not my mom," Xiao mocked. "Now come on! We've got to get to practice, I can't stay outside much longer before Venti senses me."

"Who's Venti?" Childe questioned quietly enough for only Zhongli to hear.

"Xiao's boyfriend," Zhongli responded. "Xiao pretends to hate him, but when alone together, they are very sweet."

"I heard that, old man," Xiao scrunched up his nose. "Venti is anything but sweet. He's annoying."

"Whatever you say, Xiao," Zhongli fondly smiled at his team mate.

And thus Xiao dragged Zhongli away from Childe.

Childe was left alone to contemplate reality and love as a concept.

—

For a week, the two grew closer. The media loved this, of course. Stealth shots of the couple walking around a well-kept park alone, a couple of them practicing together- they even made the headlines. Pictures of the two staring at each other across lobbies were very common and popular, as it happened quite often when the two chanced upon a meeting.

Why? Because when the most famous person in China hangs out with the new heart-throb of Russia alone and frequently, love stories emerge.

The article titled "Gay scandals, foreign affairs, and star crossed lovers- what will become of Zhongli and Childe?" was so popular, more people read it in a day than Harry Potter in ten years.

Anyway, Hu Tao, Xiao, and Keqing were having a bit of a dilemma over it.

"He didn't show up to practice yesterday, and our first match is tomorrow," Keqing explained. "He's been wasting time with that ginger gremlin, and the worst part is that their training together has actually improved Zhongli's skills by a lot, so we have no valid excuse to steal him back to our team!"

"At least every time someone makes up a love story between the two, Zhongli gets more internationally famous, especially in Russia," Ganyu pointed out.

"Ganyu, there is no looking on the bright side here! No optimism allowed! This is serious, we need a solution, think of worst case scenarios," Keqing said.

"Okay, say we prohibit him from seeing Russia's team at all," Hu Tao suggested. "Our reason could be that Russians are all alcoholics and they'll inflict alcoholism on Zhongli!"

"That's ridiculous on so many levels," Xiao sighed.

"How about we say Childe has lice? You know how much Zhongli hates anything that damages hair," Hu Tao proposed.

"No, he'd still go see him. He enjoys Childe's presence too much, which makes no sense, but it's clear that it's true," Keqing said.

"Why is it a problem anyway?" Baizhu asked.

"When did you get here?!" Hu Tao jumped in surprise.

"Seriously, why can't he spend time with the Russian?" Baizhu lifted a finger to his chin in a contemplative nature.

"Because Childe's a disease, he creates bad headlines, he's ruining Zhongli's reputation, he's the enemy, and uh- he's a bad influence! Yeah, have you seen how violently he plays? What if Zhongli learns how to break shins too, and then we get all these penalties?" Xiao listed the reasons.

"Okay... But Zhongli is still an adult, I believe he is wiser than all of you, as well. He can make his own choices," Baizhu pointed out.

"No! He can't! If his choice is to hang out with Childe, then clearly he's as wise as a toddler!" Xiao insisted.

"I don't think I'll change your minds," Baizhu sighed.

—

"It's a serious problem, his playing is distracted, absentminded..."

Zhongli sighed, trying to avoid his team as they walked out of the cafeteria, chatting about his business. Truth be told, he thought it was sweet how much they cared, but the nosiness and plans to get him away from Childe... it was stupid, to say the least.

"Zhongli!" Childe called cheerily.

"Oh, hello Tartaglia," Zhongli nodded in polite welcome.

"Are you stuck on what to eat?" Childe asked.

Zhongli had been standing and staring at the large expensive buffet in front of him for the past five minutes.

"Ah, well, it is quite embarrassing," Zhongli glanced away from Childe. "I seem to have forgotten my wallet- I can not pay for lunch."

"We can't have that now, what with your game starting in a few hours," Childe smiled. "Pick what you want, I'll pay."

"No, I-"

"Nope, none of that," Childe put a finger to Zhongli's lips.

Zhongli stared at him for a second, containing a light dust of a blush. He turned back to the display of food and grabbed a plate.

Childe followed him, making idle conversation and grabbing food for himself. Once Zhongli was done, Childe paid, and they sat down at a table for two near the window of the large, clean, polished room. The sun shone into the cafeteria space, blocked only by small fluffy clouds. It was a cold day, despite the sun. Snow littered the ground and pedestrians outside wore large puffy jackets.

"I'm fighting Germany today," Childe mentioned as they sat. "You're against India, right?"

"Yeah," Zhongli nodded, taking the plastic fork provided to him in his hand.

"I can't wait to go against you," Childe smiled.

"I look forward to seeing all of the skills I've heard you possess," Zhongli bit into some broccoli.

"The media says I'm better than I am," Childe chuckled, cocking his head at Zhongli, eye contact unbreaking. "They don't over exaggerate you, though. You're so talented!"

"Truly, I'm not," Zhongli blushed.

"Come on," Childe laughed, leaning forward.

"You've seen me practice," Zhongli put down his fork and let his gloved hand rest on the table. "I am no better than the next man."

Childe rolled his eyes dramatically, but a large grin remained on his face.

"It's them! Look how close their hands are!" A sudden voice interrupted their conversation.

Clicks of cameras, the light of a flash, and many voices. A crowd was forming around their table.

"Shit," Childe cursed.

Their hands were inches apart, so it wasn't hard for Childe to stand up quickly and grab Zhongli. He pulled him through the crowd, and they took off running out of the cafeteria, a mob after them.

Being soccer players, the paparazzi couldn't even hope to catch up, and soon Zhongli was pulled into a hallway connected to where the cafeteria was.

Childe opened a door halfway down the hallway and brought Zhongli inside before he locked it from the inside. The moment they were both locked safely away in Childe's hotel room, they started chuckling.

It was quiet at first: they had dead-sprinted out of there, so they needed to catch their breath. But after a second, they were laughing full-out. Childe stumbled and sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, trying to contain the amusement.

Zhongli sat next to him, and they laughed together (Childe found grabbing Zhongli's hand and sprinting from the paparazzi incredibly amusing, while Zhongli was just chuckling at Childe's loud laughing fit) until they both calmed down.

"A quiet lunch to a dramatic escape," Childe said. "I haven't had that much fun for a while. Listen, my voice is scratchy from laughing!"

Zhongli smiled at the other, breathing slowly to calm his lungs down.

They stared at each other until their breath was normal again. It was unusually quiet between them, as they slowly realized how close they were sitting (close enough for their legs to be touching), regained their breath, and took in each other's eyes.

Childe hesitantly leaned his face closer to Zhongli's. Zhongli didn't move out of the way, so Childe leaned in even closer. It was strange, Zhongli thought. He'd never felt this feeling in his chest.

He'd always been rather stoic, but this unfamiliar feeling made him feel like what he was, and hadn't been all of his life: a young energetic man, one that had never experienced love and true joy.

His rather strict parents were a part of it, as well as being famous from a young age. He'd never had time to be a teenager, or a young adult: his life went from being a baby, to a toddler, to a prodigy, to a famous soccer player, and into China's most famous man. If he'd had more time to be young, would he have felt this feeling more often? If that were true, he almost wanted to build a time machine and restart his life.

For Childe, however, the moment was different. His mind wasn't in the past, but the present. Zhongli's slightly surprised expression, topped off with a light blush, made Childe's heart leap. The thing with Childe is that he falls fast and hard in love: it was just rare to find someone willing to stick with him.

But he had a feeling about Zhongli, who didn't protest as Childe lifted his hand to Zhongli's neck. Maybe Zhongli was different- no, he was different. He didn't mind what the press said about him, he didn't care that his teammates told him to stop hanging out with him.

Zhongli stared into Childe's eyes, and leaned half an inch closer.

"CHILDE!" A bark interrupted the moment.

They instantly broke apart, reverting to sitting close on the bed, looking at the door.

"YEAH?" Childe asked.

"GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, YOU AGREED TO TRAIN BEFORE THE MATCH!" Scaramouche yelled through the door, his voice still a bit muffled. "IF YOU'RE DAYDREAMING ABOUT THAT CHINESE GUY AGAIN I'M GIVING YOU A WHOOPING!"

Childe blushed and flickered his gaze to Zhongli, who looked rather amused.

"I'LL BE OUT IN A SEC!" Childe responded.

The two listened to Scaramouche stomp off, and Childe began to frantically get ready in his soccer uniform. Zhongli was left to sit alone on the bed while Childe changed in his bathroom. He came out looking ready to kick ass, like he did every morning the two met up for training.

"See you around," Childe waved as he stepped out of the hotel room. "Feel free to stay and hide from the paparazzi longer if you want. Oh, and good luck with your game. I'm rooting for you!"

Just like that, it was over. Childe was gone and Zhongli was alone, silence filled the room. Well, not complete silence.

Zhongli's heart was beating louder than it had ever before.

—

About an hour later, the first games were starting. In different fields, Russia v Germany, Croatia v USA, and China v India were all taking place at once. This world cup was especially large, they wanted to extend the brackets to welcome more people, so many games took place at the same time.

The games went fast.

Zhongli and Childe both were focused on each other while playing: spending breaks watching television broadcasts of the other's team, contemplating each other's eyes while running across the field- they couldn't get over each other.

Their teams certainly noticed.

"Zhongli, pay attention!" Xiao yelled in Chinese.

Zhongli snapped his head up to see the ball flying in his direction. He put on a burst of speed, watching as it flew through the air and halfway across the field. Whoever had kicked it definitely knew what they were doing.

Zhongli's stamina had been greatly increased from his morning training, so he reached the ball in no time, and slammed his head into it just before an Indian player could do the same.

For Childe, he was having a rough time. Three penalties on his behalf, and three more on Signora's (she was AFTER that little German Venti guy. She even kicked him to the ground completely. How was he going to explain he let his teammate beat up Zhongli's teammate's boyfriend?).

Childe, as a result of penalties, was on the bench for a while now. His coach was pissed at him, but he shrugged it off and watched the China v India game on his phone. The camera was constantly following Zhongli, being the most talented and famous, but would occasionally focus on the soccer ball itself like it should.

Damn, Zhongli knew what he was doing. He was fast, agile, and very skilled with his aiming, whether head or foot shots. Childe was absorbed in Zhongli's game.

A while later, all three games ended. Croatia, China, and Russia all won. Croatia beat the USA by one point, China destroyed India (despite them having one of the best teams in the world) by three points, and Russia beat Germany by one (due to penalties- if they hadn't had any, they would have won by quite a bit more).

While his team celebrated, Zhongli snuck away. He knew Hu Tao would organize a party with Xiangling, celebrating their win and commemorating the poor fractured pinky toe Chongyun ended up with.

He walked outside of the stadium building, heading for the hotels. He was thinking of grabbing a cup of coffee and reading a book in the cafeteria, when Childe ran up behind him and wrapped his arm over his shoulders.

"Hey there," Childe grinned, wobbling in his step and putting a lot of weight on Zhongli.

"Hi," Zhongli couldn't help but smile.

"You did amaaaazing!" Childe giggled.

"Are you drunk? Already? How did you manage to get here while drunk?" Zhongli looked at the other in surprise.

"The moment we won, Tsaritsa broke out the vodkaaaa hehe," Childe laughed, his face bright red. "I had three bottles in three gulps!"

"Let's get you to your hotel room, then," Zhongli sighed, wrapping his left arm around Childe's middle and pulling him into a brisker pace.

"You're so buff," Childe pointed out, staring very obviously at Zhongli's bicep.

"I usually skip arm day, actually," Zhongli stated.

"No good," Childe shook his head. "No good, I want to see buffffff arms."

Zhongli chuckled, but didn't respond.

"Your hair looks like ramen," Childe noted.

"Really?" Zhongli questioned.

Childe used his right hand, which was still draped over Zhongli's shoulders, and ruffled the other's hair. He then brought his mouth up to Zhongli's ponytail and started eating it.

"Hey!" Zhongli chuckled, trying to free his hair.

"I'm sorrryyy," Childe muttered.

For the rest of the walk, they talked about many things. Zhongli listened to Childe rant about his hair for ten minutes straight, followed by the main course of Childe singing every lyric to Shape of You by Ed Sheeran until they finally reached the hotel.

"Here you are," Zhongli plopped Childe down on his bed. "I'm going to my room now, see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Love you good night," Childe waved goodbye before promptly passing out.

Zhongli blushed and turned to leave. Childe sure was... something.

—

Childe and Zhongli hung out more and more frequently throughout the next week. Other countries played through their games. You see, how soccer works is that there are blocks of four teams. Each team in each block plays each team in their block, and by the end, the team with the most points (gained from winning and goals and stuff) fights the other team with most points in their block.

The team with the most points who wins that second match against the second most-point-team gets to move on. Yay, soccer explained, the short version!

So basically, Zhongli's team fought three other groups, until they were chosen to move on. They beat Ireland, India, and Mexico. Now, they fought Mexico, who had the second highest amount of points.

China won, so they move on. But, other blocks have not finished up yet, so they get about a week off (I'll have you know this is inaccurate to reality and is for plot convenience).

This whole time, Russia was going through the same process, and came out on top of Germany, England, and Finland. They fought Germany and made it to the top of their block, resulting in a week off, all the same.

The thing about this was that it took place over about a week and a half, so Russia and China were incredibly exhausted. Except for one person from each team.

Zhongli and Childe were energetic nearly the whole time: every morning, they'd train. Every afternoon, they met up together and had conversations. Every night, they stayed up late going on walks or touring Germany with Childe's old friend, Kaeya (An excellent tour guide and wine know-it-all).

This made the news, of course. Headlines becoming popular this week were: "Zhongli, Childe, and the morning sun- secret dates every morning!', 'Zhongli and Childe are obsessed with each other's games, see image proof of them watching each other!' and 'We're expecting the announcement of pregnancy from Tartaglia Childe of the Russian international soccer team; guess who the father is?'.

Damn paparazzi making up mpreg fanfics amiright?

Besides that point, Zhongli and Childe were really enjoying their week of free time. Their teams were experiencing good nights of getting black out drunk and sleeping until noon after such a long time of constant block games, which means they won't be paying much attention to the Chili squad.

Or were they?

"Seriously, it's all over the news! It is NO secret that they hang out a lot! This is ruining our image! We're supposed to hate the Russians!" Xiao was ranting, fueled by two and a half pints of cheap beer.

"So you guys STILL have no plan?" Venti giggled, also infused with alcohol.

"My team seems to have decided they don't care anymore and just LET our best and most famous player basically MARRY that RUSSIAN. UGH!" Xiao slammed his head on the bar.

Venti rubbed circles on Xiao's back while staring into space, and Xiao grumbled incoherent words.

"Does this really matter? Have I been trying to come up with a plan to ruin their relationship for nothing?" Xiao contemplated. "My team doesn't care anymore. Maybe I should give up."

"Yeah, probably," Venti shrugged.

"You're supposed to support me here!" Xiao protested, glaring at Venti.

"Ehe- not when your decisions are plain stupid!" Venti giggled.

"You're one to talk. And clearly this is ruining everything. Our team is divided, Zhongli is always distracted during practice! Ugh!" Xiao complained.

"But..." Venti chewed on his lip. "What if this is better for Zhongli? I saw your last game on the TV, and he seemed to be doing better than usual. His skill has improved. And yeah, he spent his whole free time watching Childe's game, but he's still benefiting the team..."

"VENTI!" Xiao shouted after downing a shot. "You aren't s'pposed to be wise! Shut up!"

Venti only laughed. Maybe he'd have this talk after Xiao was in his right mind. He sighed, watching his boyfriend get all riled up was cute and all, but honestly, he was so stubborn! Why couldn't he see the honest truth? Just because Xiao and Venti distracted each other to the point that they can't score goals doesn't mean it happens with every couple.

"Nonono, I want the whole bottle- not a glass, stop! Just the whole thing!" Xiao was arguing with the bartender over some wine. "Where's it from? Product of California? What is this shit, I want Italian! COME ON! At LEAST French! No, not Spanish, are you shitting me? They're only good for olive oil!"

"Why don't you try some German?" Venti winked at the other.

Xiao blushed and turned his yelling on Venti. Venti chuckled to himself. Eh, maybe Xiao can just hate Zhongli for a while longer. He's way too amusing to watch when he's mad.

—

Zhongli and Childe were both in Childe's hotel room, seated on the shitty pull-out couch, facing the TV. Childe had brought his Xbox from Russia and hooked it up to the hotel television. For the past few hours, he'd been playing Smash Bros with Zhongli.

The two turned out to be incredibly aggressive. Childe was already of this manner, obviously, but Zhongli's competitive side really showed when battling against Childe. Childe mained Link and was planning on wrecking Zhongli's Pikachu, but somehow, Zhongli was actually a candidate to win.

They took a break for a bit and Zhongli went to raid Childe's fridge while Childe scrolled through his phone. Only ten minutes until the next matches are released. Instead of hanging out with his team and partying like planned, he invited Zhongli over, who was also avoiding a party.

"Is it okay if I eat these?" Zhongli called from the kitchenette.

Childe glanced over and saw that Zhongli was holding up a small container of yogurt he never knew he had.

"Yeah probably," Childe shrugged.

Zhongli grabbed a spoon and ate before coming back to the couch.

"What are the chances of me winning?" Zhongli questioned, referring to the video game.

"Absolute zero," Childe clicked off his phone and grinned at Zhongli.

"Now, what are the chances of me winning our match against you?" Zhongli smiled lightly.

"Same answer," Childe grinned.

"I feel that you have it backwards," Zhongli tapped his chin in mock contemplation.

"Oh, I'll show you backwards," Childe leapt at Zhongli.

Zhongli fell onto his back on the cheap IKEA hotel pull-out couch, trying to defend himself from Childe's attacks. Childe's rolled over on top of Zhongli, who pushed up against the other, causing the ginger to crash to the ground.

Childe let out a childish laugh, almost feeling like a little boy again. Zhongli couldn't help but laugh as well as Childe managed a playful headbutt. Man, how it felt to not have the responsibility of life, money, a career, and an entire team of players on his shoulders for just this moment... Childe made him feel so free.

In the end, Zhongli used his superior arm strength to pin Childe beneath him. They sat there for a moment, trying to stop laughing. Zhongli rolled off Childe and onto his back, next to the Russian on the carpeted floor.

For some reason, the sting of rug burns and tingle of pain in his forehead felt so incredibly good- Childe was thinking just the same thing, as he lay panting on the ground.

"Does this mean I win Smash Bros?" Zhongli questioned.

"Pfft," Childe chuckled, turning his head to face Zhongli.

Zhongli turned his head to face Childe, and they stared at each other for about a minute before blinking. Childe brought his right arm up and over his body, twisting himself onto his side so that he was facing Zhongli. He reached forward and touched Zhongli's forehead.

"...I think you'll have a bruise," Childe said after laying like that for a few tentative seconds.

Zhongli turned to face Childe as well, and brought his left hand over Childe's, applying a bit of pressure so the Russian's cold fingers would spread over more of his forehead. Childe blushed a bit, but didn't move, while Zhongli was rather calm.

"That's fine," Zhongli muttered.

Zhongli blinked, looking away from Childe's eyes for a second, before bringing his gaze back to the other, almost nervously, like he was making sure the ginger was okay. Childe's lips widened to a sweet smile.

"...I take back what I said. You might have a chance of winning," Childe caressed his finger over Zhongli's temple.

"I do not know, winning seems rather dull to me, with just a trophy as a reward," Zhongli brought the conversation back to actual soccer.

"Then you'll get more than a trophy," Childe brought it right back around.

Suddenly, Childe's phone started blasting Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran. Sheepishly, Zhongli let go of Childe and he did the same, standing and reaching for his phone, which sat on the couch's armrest.

"Hello?" Childe answered, not looking at Zhongli. "No, I couldn't check, I was distracted."

He glanced at Zhongli, who'd stood up by now, and blushed a bit.

"Wait- no, that's not why! I just hate you guys and don't like our parties," Childe protested. "Oh shut it, сомбреро человек! But seriously, what- wait, seriously?"

Childe looked at Zhongli, smiling widely. Zhongli raised an eyebrow, curious as to this sudden development.

"We're up against China next match?" Childe asked. "When? TOMORROW? SO SOON? Hell YEAH!"

Zhongli smiled at Childe's enthusiasm.

"Okay, okay, see you next match- заткнись, идиот! Nobody loves you! Bye!" Childe ended the call. "OUR MATCH IS TOMORROW!"

"Yes, I heard," Zhongli chuckled.

"Zhongli I am SO winning you!" Childe exclaimed.

"Strange way of putting it," Zhongli contemplated.

"Let's go train! Right now! To the field!" Childe grabbed his phone and ran to the door.

"Okay, okay!" Zhongli laughed.

—

"Players Zhongli and Childe, adored by fans for both long term strategic skill and ruthless moves, seem to be playing exceedingly well today- whenever they come in contact with each other, they only grow more intense- are they rivals of the field?" A spectator spoke into a microphone.

Little did they know, both had the widest grins on their faces, despite the sweat and panting. They hadn't played so intensely for a while- Zhongli pushed all of his limits stamina-wise, and Childe actually limited the amount of penalties he earned just so he could keep playing against Zhongli.

At this point in the game, the ball was flying across the field through the air after a series of headbutts. It finally collided with the ground again after Russia's goalie, Columbina. Russia had the ball, and it was his turn to serve his part.

Rushing halfway across the field, the Chinese player Xingqiu on his heels, he reached the ball Pierro sent his way. With some fancy footwork to juke out the blue-haired player on him, he continued to run with the ball towards China's goal.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zhongli was running alongside him, trying to gain at least a foot of ground on the other. Childe grinned and tried to run faster, although he couldn't due to him already running at inhumane adrenaline-fueled speeds he'd never reached before.

He passed the ball to Dottore and fell back a bit, playing defense by protecting the ball from Hu Tao, who was very aggressively trying to get it back.

Unfortunately, Xiao showed up out of nowhere and stole it from Dottore, and with that the crowd went wild. So far, this match had already broken two world records and every single person in the stands was standing and screaming with excitement.

The two rival teams fought intensely, especially since none of them have gained a single goal, and they haven't had any reason to take a break for fifteen minutes straight of violent playing.

Xiao was aiming to send the ball to Ganyu, and Childe changed course towards the blue haired, away from Hu Tao. He glanced across the field to quickly take count of Zhongli's location, and huffed. Zhongli was on the opposite end of the field, where it makes no sense he should be. Of course, this meant some plan was about to unfold.

Then he remembered. When the two had been in the cafeteria one time, Zhongli shared an idea for a play: Send the ball to Ganyu, their slowest runner, to distract the enemy. Ganyu was a master of headbutting, so she would kick it into the air and send it flying to the opposite end. Knowing this was about to happen, Childe risked it all to get the ball before it reached Ganyu.

He was close. It came within a meter of his foot. He could practically feel the pressure of kicking it 35 degrees, in the direction of Signora. But something happened. Suddenly, he wasn't running- and his face connected with the field.

The ball skirted out of his reach and Ganyu quickly kicked it into the air. Childe tried to stand again, but fell onto his knees. He looked at his ankle and realized it was twisted the wrong way.

Yeah, that probably wasn't good.

Then the pain came. It was delayed, thanks to adrenaline, and it was a burst of agony. Childe bit his lip until it bled, tears threatening to fall. He shouldn't cry.

Nope nope nope, not in front of the whole world. Just like Tsaritsa said: Russians can't cry; the cold will freeze the tears colder than the soul and inflict a disease called emotions. Unfortunately, he'd grown weak lately, and emotions had become a part of his life, thanks to a certain someone.

He was nearly rolling on the ground, clutching his ankle, until he felt a comforting hand grasp his and an arm wrap over his shoulders.

He looked up at Zhongli. The sun shone gleefully on his sweaty, serious face. Zhongli hoisted Childe to his feet just before the medical aid came sprinting over to his area and the game was temporarily paused.

The crowd was cheering louder than it ever had. The pain felt worse than he could ever remember. Zhongli's steady grip on him was more welcoming than ever. His breath on his shoulder warmed him to the core.

"Zhongli, in picture perfect location, takes off sprinting across the field towards the Russian player, Childe- he seems to be down, is something seriously wrong? His trip from earlier seems to be more intense than we thought- Zhongli made it there, the game has been paused," an announcer said in a quick recap.

Xiao stood still, watching as Zhongli heaved Childe towards the bench. The crowd was wild, but the players were silent. Xiao especially, not taking more than short shallow breaths.

"Get back out there, idiot," Childe hissed through the pain. "Continue the game!"

"Your health is far more important," Zhongli frowned.

"That's what the doctors are for!" Childe argued.

Zhongli stayed with Childe until a stretcher arrived to take the Russian away. Zhongli walked along with the doctors until they reached the nurse tent on the side of the field.

"Go!" Childe said as he was brought away.

"I will win you!" Zhongli promised, turning back towards the field.

Childe smiled at the reference from earlier, despite the pain.

—

"How do you feel about your loss, Zhongli? You expressed many times before that you were confident you were going to win," an interviewer asked.

"I think that it's fair game. Childe is an excellent player, and his team is too. Despite his injuries, Childe still won the game during that first half for his team, and despite his young age, he is admirable," Zhongli replied thoughtfully.

"That's awfully humble of you, considering you often express resentment towards Russia's team," the interviewer noted.

"Russia's team isn't so bad, now that they've got Childe," Zhongli reasoned, turning to face the ginger, who sat next to him. "Additionally, I never resented Russia's team, that was all Xiao."

"Hey!" Xiao hissed from another interview going on nearby.

"Xiao, we've heard reports of you trying to end Zhongli and Childe's practices together, what can you say about this?" Another interviewer questioned.

"I thought it was going to end my career, honestly, but some little green shit showed me it might be fine..." while Xiao answered, Zhongli's interviewer turned to Childe.

"It seems you have sprained your ankle to the point of near-breaking, yet you are still standing here outside of the game, only an hour later, what motivated you to push past the pain and arrive to watch the end of the match?" The interviewer questioned.

"Nothing, just felt like it," Childe winked at Zhongli.

"There are multiple reports of you cheering for Zhongli more than your own team, is this true?"

"Oh, definitely. My team's lousy and boring, despite being amazing comrades... Zhongli is much more entertaining," Childe grinned, adjusting his crutch.

The interview continued for a while before Russia's team's security came to take Childe to his room for some rest. He protested, saying he was perfectly fine, but they insisted that their captain, Tsaritsa, ordered this course of action. Childe grumbled, knowing Tsaritsa cared nothing for his physical health and probably had something else planned.

Reluctantly, he began wobbling away from the crowd of interviewers.

"I'll walk him, it's okay," Zhongli ensured the security, taking his familiar place by Childe's side. "I apologize, but I must admit I am in much better physical condition than you, if he were to fall, my reflexes would have superior action. Plus, he is capable on his own."

The security guards glanced at each other, but just shrugged and went away, clearly underpaid and overworked too much to deal with this.

"I don't think you could walk to the hotel from here," Zhongli contemplated, following Childe away from the stadium. "I can call a cab?"

"Sure," Childe grinned, happy Zhongli saved him from a march with his bodyguards.

Soon, a taxi pulled up to the extremely crowded street. Zhongli held the door for Childe so that he could enter first.

"Why thank you, kind sir," Childe tipped a fake hat.

Unfortunately, taking his arm off of his crutch caused him to topple into the taxi. Zhongli stifled a chuckle as Childe regained his balance and scooted to the other side of the car. His poor, poor dignity.

The two rode towards the hotel together, sitting rather close in the back, blocking out the German pop song playing loudly on the radio.

"Thank you," Childe said suddenly.

"For what?" Zhongli tilted his head to look at Childe.

"Being here, I guess. You're one of my closest... people," Childe blushed slightly.

Zhongli leaned closer to Childe so that their faces were half a foot apart.

"I'm just 'people'?" Zhongli smiled.

Zhongli neared closer, and Childe did the same, the two meeting at half an inch apart. Childe lifted a hand to the back of Zhongli's head with slight hesitation, then pulled the Chinese closer, and their lips met.

It was short and sweet: they broke apart after just about a second, but it meant the world to the both of them. Childe connected his forehead lightly with Zhongli's, and then winced.

"It still hurts from that time we headbutted," Childe complained, letting go of and moving away from Zhongli to rub his temple.

Zhongli chuckled, moving away and resting his head against the headrest of his seat.

"I think I'll say here, in Germany," Zhongli offered. "My team will be leaving in a few weeks due to our defeat: there's no point in staying. But I think I'll stay until the final round, to watch you win."

"I'd love that," Childe turned to grin at Zhongli.

"Oh, and by the way, I seem to have forgotten my wallet, and can't pay the taxi driver-"