Zhongli sees Childe smile at Capitano, a look that is typically reserved for him, and him alone.

CW: Smut

--

Zhongli finds himself in Snezhnaya because he misses Childe.

It is strange. He's unused to having such... attachments to things, but he waves it away as a quirk of retirement. It's been so long since he's had his Gnosis that being without it feels odd. Being just a god once more and not an Archon feels like a step back—but not necessarily in a negative way.

Life hasn't ever been simple for Zhongli but never before have his thoughts been so utterly ruled by another. Things, yes. Fear for his people, absolutely. War, Celestia, and everything that fell underneath his mantle as Morax, certainly.

With retirement, he was supposed to find peace. Instead, Childe arrived in Liyue like a wayward tide that pulled Zhongli undertow.

"I have to leave," he said to him, that night at the docks, warm fingers curled around Zhongli's hand gently. "This isn't goodbye, though, it's only a minor inconvenience." Childe laughed then, kissing Zhongli's knuckles, and then he sailed away on a boat that Zhongli watched until it dipped past the horizon.

A minor inconvenience, mildly put. Zhongli wasn't prepared for the way that his chest ached in the absence of Childe. He lays in the bed they once shared, nose pressed into the pillow that Childe used. His scent has faded. Even with Zhongli's sharp nose, he can barely smell it.

And so—

Zhongli finds himself in Snezhnaya after penning a nearly regretful letter to another Archon. He is honest, at least, to which the Tsaritsa sounds amused in her response back.

Oh, this is interesting. I never expected such a dumb rock to fall in love.

Biting words that make Zhongli frown. But then:

Of course, you can visit. At the very least, we can share some tea, and catch up for old times' sake.

Zhongli isn't stupid enough to think that the Tsaritsa won't watch him carefully but he also knows that she won't risk angering him either. She has his Gnosis, but there is a reason that she didn't outright try and steal it, bargaining for it instead. It would be no matter to take it right back.

It is freezing cold. Zhongli rubs at his nose, a shiver trickling down his spine. He blames the bitterness that sinks into his bones on his age, but it's more likely due to the fact that he's a cold-blooded lizard, meant for basking in the warmth of a more temperate climate. And really, the cold doesn't bother him much, it's more an instinctual dislike, the same way he prefers to keep his feet on solid ground instead of over water.

"Must be unbearable, eh?" asks the Fatui that leads him through the pristine palace halls. "Liyue is definitely warmer than this hell hole." He laughs good-naturedly, to which Zhongli returns a kind grin.

"Oh? Have you spent time there?"

The man shrugs a shoulder. "I was stationed there up until recently."

Ah, thinks Zhongli. He must be one of Childe's men, at least by extension. The officer then gives Zhongli a sly look. "You know, I'm not surprised that you've come here to visit. Everyone knows that you and our Lord Harbinger—"

"Zhongli!"

They both turn and look down the hall, finding Childe standing there with his arm aloft.

"You were saying?" asks Zhongli politely, turning back to the officer.

"Nothing important, I promise you." He rubs at his neck. "You shouldn't, uh, keep him waiting."

Zhongli's expression crinkles, amused. "No, I don't think that I should."

The distance that sits between them isn't long but it feels as though it takes forever to cross it. Zhongli expects Childe to err on the side of caution but he does not. Instead, he pulls Zhongli close and bruises his face into the crook of his neck.

"You're here," he mutters against him.

Zhongli sighs softly, lifting a hand and pressing it to the back of Childe's head, sinking his fingers into his auburn hair. "Ajax," he says quietly. "I've missed you."

Childe laughs then, a croaked sound, trying to hide the fact that he's all choked up. Zhongli's heart beats a little faster, pleased by the fact that he affects Childe so. "Gods, I've—" He groans into his neck, forehead dropping to his shoulder to rest there.

Zhongli's gut churns as it finally sinks in, just how long they've been separated. Weeks, months, nearly a year— "It probably isn't good to stand here," he finally says, only for Childe to interrupt him.

"Fuck it," says Childe. "It's not like we're a secret." Zhongli blinks, stilling, and Childe laughs again. "Zhongli, you wrote to the Tsaritsa professing your love for me. As if she wouldn't let that slip. She's been teasing me about it for weeks."

"Ah. My apologies then."

"No, no, it's—" Childe falls quiet. "Look, that isn't important. What is, is that you're here."

Childe clings to Zhongli like he is a lifeline. It is nice, despite the awkwardness of their heavy clothing and the way that the servants stare at them. Zhongli turns his face to press his nose against the side of Childe's temple, inhaling deeply.

He knew that he missed him; the way that Childe smells, how they fit together, the way that his pulse races ever so slightly when Zhongli curls close. But as Zhongli breathes in Childe's well-known and comforting scent, he didn't realize just how much.

"I love you," says Childe so softly that only Zhongli would hear.

And, perhaps, Zhongli has missed those words most of all. "And I, you," he replies, dragging his nails across Childe's scalp.

#

It takes two things for the dragon that lurks underneath Zhongli's skin to break forth. Just a little. A smidge. Enough for him to be embarrassed about it later, but for now—

Two things.

Childe smiling at Il Capitano, wide and lazy, a little too similar to the look that he gets when he regards Zhongli.

And then, Capitano reaching out to press his wide hand against the crown of Childe's head, ruffling his hair. Childe laughs in response, his cheeks tinged pink as he waffles about on his feet. Too familiar, too close.

It makes Zhongli's scales itch. The blood in his veins runs icy-cold, but his heart boils. Not rage. Never rage, he's too cool and collected for that. But old habits die hard and Morax rears his ugly head, eager and willing to slip back into the days of old when war still ruled the lands.

Zhongli tugs Childe into a dark corner of the palace, away from prying eyes.

"Hey, if you wanted a moment alone, all you had to say was—"

Zhongli grabs him by the chin and kisses him fiercely, the first they've shared since being reunited in this frozen wasteland. He didn't think it'd be like this and Childe doesn't expect it to be so aggressive. Like always, though, he melts against him, moaning softly against Zhongli's mouth. Childe reaches up, curling his fingers into the thick fabric of his coat.

When they part, Childe is red in the face. "What was that for?" he asks, chest heaving.

"A reminder," says Zhongli simply, dragging his thumb across the swell of Childe's bottom lip. "That you're mine."

Childe's gaze shifts at that, his eyes slipping half-lidded. "Oh?"

Zhongli backs him against the railing of the palisade that overlooks a frosted courtyard. He slides his hands into Childe's thick coat, dragging his hands down his sides. "How I've missed this," he says, leaning closer and pulling their hips flush. "The feel of you underneath my fingers." He squeezes Childe's sharp hip bones to drive the point home.

Childe's breath hitches when Zhongli licks a stripe across the length of his neck. "I've come all this way just to see you, my darling," he says then, nosing at the soft spot underneath Childe's ear. "I confessed to your Tsartisa, just on the chance she'd allow me a moment of your time."

"Zhongli—"

Zhongli drags his teeth across the sensitive skin of his jaw, raising gooseflesh. "So, imagine my surprise, when I see you fawn over another man."

Childe stills at that. "What?" he asks, pulling back, but Zhongli holds him firm. Not tightly, just enough to keep him close. "Zhongli, what—"

"That Harbinger," murmurs Zhongli, his breath warming Childe's ear. He nips at the skin there, teeth just barely sinking in. "The one with the mask. Il Capitano."

Zhongli feels the way that Childe's throat bobs against his cheek when he swallows. "That's—he's—"

"Such a look should be reserved for only me." Zhongli is not a jealous man at his core. He's mostly teasing, enjoying the way that Childe squirms against him, and the way that his pulse pounds in his throat. How his breathing stutters, and the sound of those soft, whining breaths that he looses as he clings tightly to Zhongli.

But.

"Zhongli, he's—"

"I know that you're attracted to power, Childe, but I'm right here." Zhongli pulls back slightly to grab Childe by the chin, tipping his face back. "There isn't a need to look elsewhere."

"I'm not—Zhongli, you know that there isn't anyone else."

Of course, there isn't. Zhongli doesn't doubt Childe's sincere devotion to him and him alone. I have to go home, but this isn't goodbye, he'd said, all those months ago. I'll do what I have to do, and then I'll come home.

Zhongli is his home, not this barren, frozen place devoid of life. He chuckles softly as Childe waits with stilted breaths, dipping forward to press a sweet kiss against his forehead.

Childe is red in the face once more. "You're teasing me. You're—"

"You make it easy, love." Another kiss, this one to the side of Childe's temple. And then his cheek, his jaw, the tip of Childe's nose.

Childe's fingers curl into the scruff of Zhongli's jacket, tugging him forward for a proper kiss. He moans, his tongue slipping past Zhongli's lips, searching. Zhongli sighs against Childe's mouth, cupping his face to change the angle for better access. They share breaths as they fall back into what's familiar, trying to remember what they've been missing.

Zhongli's cock twitches uncomfortably in his trousers when Childe grinds against him, his own erection embarrassingly evident. Childe whines softly, chasing the friction, hips rising slightly as he grips Zhongli's shoulders.

"Impatient," mutters Zhongli, pecking his lips sweetly. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you'd want me to fuck you right here."

"Yes," says Childe.

"Later. Not here." Zhongli would much rather press him into a soft and warm bed, covering Childe entirely as he fucks into him with languid, powerful strokes.

Childe has other plans. "No, no, here." He paws at Zhongli's coat, tugging at it. "What was it that you said? I'm yours? What better way is there to stake your claim?"

Zhongli's gaze narrows. He reaches out, pressing a thumb to Childe's mouth, pressing it past his lips. Childe is good for him, sucking the digit down, and swirling his tongue around it. "Here," he muses, pressing down, "on this parapet, overlooking the snow before. Anyone could turn the corner and see us, Ajax."

And oh, the way that Childe's face turns slightly at that as he smirks around Zhongli's thumb.

"Which is what you'd like," surmises Zhongli with a soft huff. "Incorrigible."

"Don't you want to be the talk of the palace? Show Capitano that there isn't a chance in hell?"

Zhongli is a lot of things: a pensive man with eons of well-practiced composure; a former archon and now funeral consultant; a devoted and loving partner, prone to indulging in the wild whims of his beloved. Childe is lucky that the older, more emboldened part of himself preens at the idea of it. The suggestion causes his cock to swell fully, tight and uncomfortable in his clothing.

"You've always been the type to put on a show."

"Mostly for you. The others are just a bonus."

Zhongli laughs then, before crushing their lips together once more. This time he slips a knee between Childe's leg, pinning his erection with the meat of his thigh. Childe moans, a high, pitiful-sounding thing that leaves Zhongli's gut boiling with lust.

"Quiet," he murmurs against his mouth, swallowing the sound up. "Otherwise they will come."

Childe moans again, louder, seemingly intent on tempting fate, and Zhongli's composure cracks right down the middle.

"Around you go," he says, pulling away to turn Childe away from him. Childe leans against the parapet, ass out, thighs tense. Zhongli slides a hand down the curve of muscle there, admiring the view, the arch of his back. "So good for me," he says, reaching around to unlace Childe's trousers, slipping them down the swell of those pert asscheeks. Just enough to reveal his hole.

Zhongli drags his thumb through Childe's crack, tracing the rim of muscle there.

"Zhongli," breathes Childe, head dipping low, hanging slack as his legs tremble.

"Slick them," says Zhongli, holding out his fingers. "Unlike you, I was prepared to do this later."

Childe huffs but waves a hand, Hydro coalescing into a thick, viscous slick against Zhongli's palm.

Zhongli presses his fingers against his hole once more with insistent pressure. Childe keens when one slips into the knuckle, curling against his warm insides. Tight and hot. It's been too long, he thinks, his mind blanking at just the thought of sinking his cock into Childe instead.

He distracts himself by slipping in a second finger a little too soon.

"Gods," hisses Childe, clamping down around his knuckles. He moans when Zhongli spreads them wide, coaxing his hole open with a hurried, frantic touch. Zhongli would be more careful but he knows Childe, and he knows that he loves the stinging pressure of doing this too quickly. He knows that his cock twitches, thick with arousal, dribbling pathetically from the tip with every thrust of his fingers.

"Good?" asks Zhongli, sinking his fingers in as far as they can go. He curls them, hooking around to press against that spot that has Childe crying out.

"That's—oh shit, there—"

"Ajax," he admonishes. "Quieter."

Childe bites at his lip, whining instead as Zhongli drills his fingers into him. When a third finger begins to breach his rim, he moans. "Don't make me beg for it."

What a sight that would be, Childe pressed against the cold stone, fingers tight around the railing as he fucks back against Zhongli's hand. Whimpering as he asks for more, wishing for his cock instead. "You should," he says next to Childe's ear.

"Zhongli, please."

He slips his fingers out, wiping them on his trousers. He unbuckles his fly with trembling hands, freeing his cock, hissing softly at the bitterly frozen air. Childe reaches back, groping for Zhongli's dick, his hand slick with Hydro.

"Impatient." Zhongli isn't complaining, though, his eyes trained on where Childe strokes his cock, wetting it. "That's enough," he says, batting Childe's hand away. "Let me." He presses the tip of his cock to Childe's loosened rim, watching the way that his hole swallows the head eagerly.

Hot and tight. Slick and inviting. Childe presses back almost immediately, sinking onto his cock and taking it deep. "Oh gods," he mutters, fingers curled around the railing in a white-knuckled grip.

Zhongli has to stop him, holding him by the hips in a bruising grip. "Stop," he says. "Ajax, stop." Childe stills himself and Zhongli drops his head against his neck, pressing his forehead to the soft hair there. "Fuck," whispers Zhongli against him, nuzzling the sweaty skin.

He's missed this, missed him. The tightness of his ass, and the way that Childe melts so readily against him. "Relax," says Zhongli, groaning at the way Childe's insides clench around his length, trying to get used to being full of his cock. It's been too long, too, too long.

"This won't last long," says Zhongli. "I'll take care of you later, but for now—"

"Zhongli, just fuck me." Childe wriggles against him, pressing back as he grinds against Zhongli's groin. "Please, please, just—"

Zhongli pulls out to the tip and slams back in. Childe loses his words, skittering forward as his feet lose purchase against the ground. "Fuck," he cries out, holding himself against the stone of the parapet. "Zhongli," he keens, his voice clipped in a wanton tone.

"I forgot how good you feel." Zhongli mouths the words against Childe's sweaty nape, fingers curled tightly around his hips. He pulls Childe to him, thrusting eagerly, his cock swallowed by his inviting hole. "So good for me, so tight."

"Fuck, I'm going to—"

Childe is already there, nearing his end as his cock twitches with every punch of Zhongli's cock. Childe snakes a hand down, grasping at himself, stroking in time as Zhongli ruts against him, the sound of their skin slapping filling the air around them.

"I've missed this," says Zhongli. "It's so easy to forget just what this feels like. I don't like being separated. I won't allow it again."

"No," agrees Childe, his voice pitched high.

Zhongli leans forward, plastering himself across Childe's back fully. The angle changes and his cock slips deep, dragging right across Childe's prostate. Childe chokes on his spit, lost to the pleasure. Zhongli bites at his ear, hiding his own moans against his skin and hair, drowning in the scent of the man that he loves.

He comes first, his thrusts quickening before he tips over the edge. Childe squirms against him as he's filled, his insides painted white with Zhongli's come for the first time in nearly a year. "I'm... Zhongli, I'm—"

"I love you," says Zhongli into his ear, quiet enough for only him. His cock jerks inside of him as Childe rocks back, chasing his own end as he drowns in Zhongli's praise. "Teasing aside, this is what I crave the most, just the weight of you against me. The warmth of your skin on a cold night."

Childe jerks himself until he comes all over the parapet, wasting his spend against the frigid stone. Zhongli groans at the way Childe's hole tightens, pulling his cock back to half-hardness. Their breaths puff in warm clouds as they lean against each other, trying to gather themselves.

Zhongli pulls out, his come spilling. He leans back to pull an asscheek to the side, watching as Childe's hole tries and fails to tighten. Loose and slick with his spend, reddened slightly, begging for more. Later, he thinks, sweeping his thumb over it, massaging the sore muscles with a tender touch. Later, he'll fill him again, making up for all their lost time.

Childe straightens on wobbly legs, readjusting his pants, uncaring of the mess he's made of himself. "There's no way that they don't know," he says then. "Even if they didn't hear us, all they have to do is take one look."

Zhongli pulls him close again for a sweet kiss. "Oh darling, I'm counting on that. You are mine."

Childe cups his chin, pulling back. "Yeah, I am. Always." He kisses the tip of Zhongli's nose, strangely tame when compared to their debauched activities just prior. "Do you feel better?"

He does, but it's embarrassing to admit, so Zhongli just hides his face in the crook of his neck instead. Childe laughs softly, petting his hair. "Did you really write a letter to the Tsaritsa?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" His voice is muffled as he grounds himself in Childe's scent.

Once their wildly beating pulses calm in the chilly air, they finish righting themselves. "Is it my turn to parade you around?" asks Childe, his tone anything but innocent.

Zhongli can't help the sly smile that spreads across his face. "Lead the way."

It is cold in Snezhnaya, the bitter cold clipping at his fingers. But, for once, his blood isn't sluggish in his veins. His face is bright, pink with how much he yearns for this man. It takes nothing for Zhongli to follow along, their fingers linked together as Childe tugs him along.