Childe is not a man of routine but there is one daily indulgence that he cannot overlook.

"One large medium roast, extra milk, and sugar." A pause as Venti looks at the cup suspiciously. "Did you mean to order it iced?"

"It's so hot. I'm melting outside." Childe swipes the cup from the counter, jabs a straw into it, and takes a sip. "Shit Venti, did you taste this? Who brewed it? It's terrible."

Venti tuts at that, pulling the cup out of his hand. "You know I drink the hard shit." He dumps the cup into the sink. "And by that, I mean cold brew." He does not mean cold brew. "Also, it isn't cold outside. It's autumn weather—"

"The sun's out. It's hot."

Venti levels him with a stare as he pours a new cup of iced coffee. "Right, I forget—Snezhnaya is desolate this time of year."

"Well, not yet—but it's mostly cloudy. The eternal darkness doesn't kick in until winter."

Venti caps his new drink and slides it across the table, black as the winter sky Childe is thinking off. "Here. Add milk and sugar on your own. Everything's fresh on the condiment bar. Xiao will be back tomorrow to make your perfect order."

"I don't ask for perfection, Venti, I just want a decent cup of joe."

Venti shrugs. "You'll tip well either way."

And that's true. Childe knows what it's like, so he returns the favor. " Look, it isn't about—" Childe's phone vibrates, letting off a chirp. "Hang on." He unlocks the screen to find a text from—

"Oh? Who's that text from?"

"Hm?" When Childe looks, Venti is watching back with a sly grin. "Oh, it's—"

"Don't say no one. Childe's, you've bought your coffee here every morning for the last couple of years. Baristas are like bartenders; we know you." He waggles his eyebrows. "So, spill."

Childe sighs, dragging a hand down his face. Venti is relentless when it comes to gossip and he isn't good about keeping his mouth shut either. And it isn't like Childe is trying to hide Zhongli but he likes his peace. Still. Venti won't stop until he fesses up, either.

"There's a guy—"

"OH?"

"Shhhhhh!" hisses Childe. "Keep it down, yeah? Remember how I told you I have this regular—"

"Yeah, the old hunk."

Childe's face burns red at the blatant way that Venti says it. "He isn't old. Er, distinguished? Whatever, the point is that he's... we've—"

"You fucked." Not a question, but a statement.

"No!" Venti raises an eyebrow and Childe finds that the tiled floor is far more interesting than he's ever noticed before. "We had dinner. And then lunch. He's interested in me."

Venti's expression is sly again. He taps his chin thoughtfully. "What's the text say?"

[Zhongli]: Good morning, Childe. I hope it's a pleasant one.

It's a real text from a real phone number, not the dumb delivery app. Childe is too embarrassed to read it aloud so he just shows it to Venti. "Oh, proper grammar. That's cute." Venti meets Childe's gaze. "How's his dick?"

"Gods, would you shut up? I haven't seen it!" Not entirely a lie. He's only felt it, and shit, it's good. Still. He's convincing enough that Venti seems to believe him.

"You going to leave him on read, or....?"

"I can't exactly reply if you're bothering me."

Venti rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I've got to get back to work anyhow—these lattes won't make themselves. Do yourself a favor and climb him like a tree, yeah?"

"Insufferable," murmurs Childe before snatching up his drink. He drops into a soft armchair on the opposite side of the cafe.

[Childe]: its morning so
[Childe]: grabbin my coffee

Childe pauses, his thumb hovering over the screen as he hesitates. It's Sunday morning. Surely Zhongli isn't at the office. "Fuck it," he says to himself, typing away.

[Childe]: actually im still here. want to make it a date?

The seconds crawl by as Childe watches those three little dots on Zhongli's side. Typing and then not. Typing, typing—and then not. Childe is just about to think he's fucked it up when an answer comes through.

[Zhongli]: I would love that. Which cafe?

Zhongli steps into the cafe dressed down in a perfectly fit black t-shirt and straight-legged jeans. Even like this, Childe feels woefully undressed. Venti stares as Zhongli greets Childe, slack-jawed and caught in the moment as he over-pours milk, spilling it all over the counter.

"Childe," says Zhongli quietly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Childe's face flares up, pink, and he laughs nervously. "Ah, yeah, um—coffee?"

"Tea." Zhongli chuckles. "I already had coffee earlier."

"I know jack shit about tea."

"Green—whatever they have is fine. I'll hold these chairs?"

Anything to give Childe some much-needed space. He doesn't date. He occasionally grabs a beer with a guy, but it's with the intention to get fucked, not something more. Zhongli, though—he smiles at him, smoothing his thumb over his forearm and Childe's chest tightens.

"Yeah, okay. Green tea."

Venti still hasn't picked his jaw up off the ground by the time Childe finds the register. "That can't be—"

"Zhongli," finished Childe. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Okay, yeah, I see the appeal. He can pick me up anytime and—"

"Venti."

Venti rolls his eyes when Childe orders the green tea, but brews a cup dutifully. "Handsome. Gorgeous—but definitely old," he teases, sliding the cup across the counter. Childe shoots him a rude gesture before heading back to the armchairs in the corner.

"I've never been here," says Zhongli, curling his fingers around the tea and taking a sip. He savors it, letting it wash over his tongue before nodding. "Not terrible."

"Stunning review."

Zhongli laughs. "There is an art to brewing proper tea but this is plenty serviceable."

"Ah, thanks for coming. I figured that we should sit down and—well, I know you, but there's so much that I don't?"

Zhongli hums, setting his mug down. "There isn't much to know about me," he says, rubbing his chin. "I started Archon Industries as a minor consulting firm and it just... grew from there. I've spent many years guiding it into the brand that it is today."

"Family?"

"Ah... well, my parents have passed."

Childe nods. "No time for relationships?"

Zhongli looks strangely amused. "I just never had much interest. But then, a delivery boy handed off lunch to me one day."

"That's—" Childe sputters, pawing at his trouser leg. "You can't just—"

"Tell you the truth?" Zhongli chuckles before nodding at him. "And you? What about your family? I know that you aren't from Liyue."

Oh, this was a mistake. Childe knew that he'd ask something like this so he came prepared to hedge around the question. "They aren't really involved. I made some dumb choices and left. Coming to Liyue meant turning over a new leaf."

Zhongli seems to accept this answer. "And did you? Turn over a new leaf?"

Question of the century, one that Childe doesn't have an answer for. "I'm shit poor and I live in a dump, but it's on my terms. It's nice not having my parents breathing down my neck, expecting me to behave. I miss my siblings though."

"Oh? Siblings?"

Childe smiles fondly, memories tugging at his being. He teeters over the edge like a wave crashing. "Yeah, tons of them. Older and younger. I actually text my sister Tonia all the time, so they know I'm at least alive."

"Just estranged, then," surmises Zhongli. He says it with no judgment.

"Does that... bother you?"

Zhongli blinks, surprised by the question. "Should it?"

It shouldn't but most people are nosy and always press for more. Childe is unused to someone just taking him for his word and not pushing any further. But, maybe it's because Zhongli is older that he's more polite.

They settle into their conversation. Zhongli puts him at ease, whether he means to or not, monologuing about any and everything in that baritone voice of his.

"Childe, do you go to school?"

Childe gives him a Chesire grin. "Do I look that young to you?"

Zhongli flusters, picking at the fabric of the old armchair. "I know that you are a little younger but I didn't think that much so—"

"I'm only teasing. But, to answer your question—I have a degree in Business Management. It just kinda goes unused."

Zhongli doesn't seem surprised, just baffled. "I—a delivery job?"

"I needed a break from the corporate world. I was hired right out of college and it was just work, work, work—" Childe sighs. "It felt like I gave so much for so little in return. My dad's approach is to reach the top of a company and become its god. Never quite got to that point but it wasn't as satisfying as they all make it out to be."

Zhongli is quiet for a long moment. "I understand more than you might think."

"Ah, yeah, I guess. You've been sitting at the top, haven't you? How's the view up there?"

"Exhausting," says Zhongli, giving him a rueful look. "I prefer it down here, grounded, feet pressed firmly against the earth.

They talk their way through several hours. Childe nurses several cups of coffee and Zhongli tries at least two other teas. Everything that tumbles from Zhongli's mouth feels like it's carefully composed prose. Childe thinks that he can lose himself in it as though it were a book, warming his bones by a late-night fire.

"I must admit," says Zhongli eventually, his brow marred by a soft worry wrinkle that Childe finds cute, "I wasn't expecting for you to... reciprocate."

What an absurd thought. "Have you seen yourself?"

"Yes," says Zhongli dryly. "Looks aside, I am awkward and, admittedly, stuffy at times."

"You're kind," corrects Childe. "Like, yeah, I liked you from the moment I saw you but that wasn't what pulled me in. You always ask me how my day is and I never felt like I was just dropping off food. You made an effort to get to know me and I didn't feel like some weird outsider here. It was very considerate."

"Ah, that's—Well. Pathetic attempts to just keep you in my office, I suppose. There's something to be said for longing, isn't there?"

Childe smirks. "And just how long were you pining?" Zhongli looks away, embarrassed, refusing to answer which makes Childe laugh.

They do not stop at the coffee shop.

Zhongli suggests a simple walk around the block which turns into two, then three, then two hours later they've walked the entire length of the Harbor with their arms linked. Childe is not nervous, instead, he feels grounded. Zhongli's arm is warm, like the Liyue sun that beats down on them, like the sand of the Harbor port that their shoes sink into.

He doesn't dare think of anything as stupid as fate but it's strange how simple this has been. They both pined, wanting more, but Childe is left wondering just how far Zhongli's feelings go. Is it love is an easy question for most, but Childe dreads the answer because he doesn't want it to be no.

Zhongli is unreadable. Affection is clearly there, as is the heady gaze of a man who wants. He treats Childe like something precious, fingers curled around his hand as he guides him through the city. And so, Childe lets himself hope.

They walk until the sun has set and the streets of Liyue Harbor flicker with lantern light. "This is the Old District," says Zhongli, pointing out more local sights. "Traditional. Cultural. It is almost as if you're stepping back into time."

Here they eat dinner, Childe fumbling with his chopsticks. Zhongli laughs, reaching over to correct his grip. His fingers burn like fire as they linger there, intentionally too long as Zhongli sweeps a thumb across Childe's calloused palm.

It distracts Childe from the delicious food. He can't think, his brain full of Zhongli, and—

"Hey, want to get out of here?"

Zhongli's mouth parts, chopsticks held in his hand as he tilts his head, considering. He is not a stupid man. Childe's meaning is clear. Zhongli calls for the check faster than Childe thinks he's ever seen before.

They fall into Childe's apartment kissing each other.

Childe clings to Zhongli, cradling his face with warm hands, slotting their mouths together as he licks between Zhongli's lips. Zhongli moans, kissing back sloppily, so different from his usual prim exterior.

It feels good to be so wanted, to have this man at his beck and call. Childe would think Zhongli more than out of his league, he'd be out in space, hovering beyond Childe's reach—but he isn't.

"Darling," whispers Zhongli against his mouth, and oh, that pet name sinks right into his gut. Zhongli tastes like tea and spice. His tongue is wet as it slips past Childe's lips, plundering his mouth.

Childe turns them and Zhongli trips on his shoes, trying to kick them off. "Bed," says Childe as he catches him. "Come on, bed—"

"Impatient," tuts Zhongli—but he does as Childe asks. He falls against the mattress elegantly. His hair is a tangled mess, his cheeks pink, and his lips kiss-swollen. Childe is overcome with the urge to kiss and kiss and kiss him. Strangely elementary. Not the sort of sordid actions befitting grown adults.

Childe straddles Zhongli, pawing at his shirt. The fabric slips from the waistband of his jeans to reveal a toned, muscular stomach. "Damn, you're just—"

"What?" Zhongli sounds breathless, throat bobbing when Childe presses the flat of his hand against his abs.

"I know this isn't the only place you're packing. Yesterday, at the office." Childe drags his hand down to cup the bulge in Zhongli's trousers. Zhongli hisses, head tipping back into his pillows. "Yeah, okay, this is—"

A monster. A godsend. Childe doesn't know, he just wants to see it. He undoes Zhongli's jeans, sliding them down with hurried tugs until they get tossed to the floor in a heap. "Gods," he murmurs, pulling Zhongli's cock out of his boxer briefs, not bothering to fully undress him.

Thick. Hot and hefty in his hand. Childe leans forward to kiss the tip, his tongue snaking out to lick across the slit. "Who would've thought this was hiding underneath those jeans? Which, by the way, fit you perfectly. Molded to you like your some kind of god, or—"

Zhongli's hand falls against his head and he tugs Childe's hair. "Please," he says, that hand moving to cup the back of his skull, pulling Childe forward.

Childe drags his lips down his length, laughing. "I suppose you know what you want, then," he muses. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Childe." He moans his name, voice shaky, unsteady. His thighs tighten when Childe settles against him, taking his cock into his mouth.

He chokes on it; the taste, the headiness and scent, the way that it sits heavy on his tongue. Childe sucks around him, swallowing it deeper, easing his way down Zhongli's cock. What he doesn't reach with his mouth, he jerks it in his hand, using spit to help with the glide.

"Oh," hisses Zhongli. He moves to cradle Childe's cheeks, guiding him along gently. "Oh, you're—"

Childe takes pride in his cocksucking skills. All the practice? Worth it to see Zhongli crumble underneath his expert touch. He writhes on the sheets, trying to keep from bucking into Childe's mouth. Instead, he just ushers further along his dick until it tips into the back of Childe's throat, gagging him.

His own cock aches, twitching in his trousers as he grinds against Zhongli's thigh. Childe pulls off for a quick breath, licking down the entirety of him, tracing the vein that bulges on the underside. "Fuck, I've never—So big. So, so—"

"I won't last long," cuts in Zhongli. He lifts a knee, planting his foot into the bed. Childe ruts against it, his erection caught against Zhongli's tense thigh. "Not with you—" Another groan when Childe wraps his mouth around the crown of his cock, swirling his tongue.

Zhongli's eyes flutter closed as he sinks into his bed. Those long lashes ghost his cheeks and Zhongli sighs as he bucks his hips gently into Childe's mouth. Childe takes him deep once more, moaning around him. He sucks and slobbers, bobbing along his length, pulling Zhongli to the precipice.

He must not have been joking. Zhongli's fingers tighten against him as he fucks Childe's mouth with teasing, languid strokes. Nothing too much, just enough to barely kiss the back of his throat, causing it to tighten. Zhongli doesn't even watch him, just lays there, eyes screwed shut as he does his best not to come right there.

It only makes Childe double his efforts. He moves quicker, sucks hard, and jerks the part he can't reach with his lips until Zhongli is squirming, back arching from the mattress. "So good for me, so, so—Childe, I'm—"

Barely a warning, just enough for Childe not to choke on his come as Zhongli tips over the edge with a grunt. Childe slurps it up, swallowing the salty and bitter tang. Grinds against Zhongli's thigh over and over until he's spending himself in his trousers like a teenage boy.

Childe pulls off, licking his lips as Zhongli slumps into the bed. "I'm... I'm—"

"Zhongli—"

"Too tired to go for more."

Childe snorts, bursting into laughter as his forehead falls to Zhongli's thigh. They stay like that, the high wearing off until Childe's legs are no longer jelly and Zhongli rolls over to grab some tissues. He grabs his jeans when Childe speaks next.

"Stay the night." A foolish request. He should've offered the first time, and even if they're kind of dating, it still feels too fresh and new. But, it also feels right, Zhongli laying in his bed looking like a divine old god.

Zhongli immediately drops the offending article of clothing. "Yes, okay."

Childe raises an eyebrow. "That eager?"

"To stay with you? Yes."

Oh, what that does to Childe. "Alright, just let me change." Childe peels off his sticky, soiled trousers, tossing them into the hamper. He throws on some boxers and a clean shirt to sleep in before slipping into the sheets. He fits perfectly against Zhongli's chest, nestled right into his side like a laser-cut puzzle piece.

Zhongli hums softly, petting his hair. "This is..."

"I'm sorry my bed is so shitty. Cramped. It's a tight fit."

Zhongli chuckles, turning Childe onto his side before tugging him close. "I'm a cuddler. I like the warmth." He kisses Childe's neck and nuzzles the fine baby hairs there. "Get some rest."

"I just sucked your soul through your dick. Why are you taking care of me?"

"Mhmm, I want to." Another kiss, another lingering nuzzle of Zhongli's nose.

For the first time in years, Childe sleeps well. And not only is Zhongli still there in the morning, he's also half-naked in the kitchenette, cooking him breakfast in his underwear. It's domestic enough for Childe to dream.