Well shit now he feels a tiny bit bad and he doesn't even really know why. DAMN IT ZHONGLI. THIS IS HIS PETTY REVENGE, DON'T MAKE HIM FEEL IMMATURE EVEN THOUGH HE IS DEFINITELY BEING IMMATURE.
Perhaps if either of them stopped to think about it for more than 5 seconds, they would realize that no, actually, Zhongli is not anywhere near the most convenient choice--but Childe certainly isn't going to do that, because untangling his Zhongli emotions is not on his to-do list at this time.
Instead, he sighs, as if to clear away the offer for an out resting on the tip of his tongue. It's too late now, unless he were to throw the entire mission for the sake of--what, a shred of honor? The memory of a friendship that wasn't wholly genuine on either side? No.
Zhongli says he's had enough, so... showtime, it seems. Gods. Maybe Zhongli just thinks he's going to take the chance to be over-the-top embarrassing, which would be funny but ultimately detrimental to his goals. Once they're in it, they'll probably be fine. Right? Right.]
Let's go, then. [Moving forward, and reaching out!! If Zhongli doesn't stop him, then he'll seize one of Zhongli's hands and lace their fingers together.] I suppose I really haven't told you much about my parents, have I?
[So, no, not Fatui at all. Even though Childe will definitely gossip about Vlad and Nadia at some point during the evening, because he is a good boss who pays attention to his agents even if he doesn't let them meet 90% of the time.
[ maybe if they stopped they would!! but childe certainly wouldn't, and zhongli is seconds away from adjourning his opinion on this whole thing. if it's a charade, it's only a charade. if zhongli is a puppet, he would play his part. both of them can just be blithely oblivious clowns.
but he also hadn't thought about this part—when childe suddenly catches his hand and weaves their fingers together, firmly grasping the row of his knuckles. zhongli slows with surprise the moment it happens, looking at their joined hands and then at childe as he matches his stride. his fingers are loose, but childe still holds them.
it's part of the act, he tells himself. it's a small gesture done even by children, by elders and their progeny, by close friends keeping a secret or giving comfort. it means nothing, yet there's a flurry of feeling when it happens, warm and cottony in his chest. nothing has ever felt like that before.
he catches himself before he stares for too long. he brings himself out of his thoughts and feelings, closing his finger's over childe's hand and continuing to walk them into the party, ignoring the little feelings sparking in his chest like striking matches. anyway. anyway!
"my parents." so that's where he learned about love. there's a little comfort in knowing childe would talk about something very personal to him. he looked forward to those conversations the most.
a smile eases on his lips, whether he likes it or not. ]
You've spoken of them in relation to your siblings. I haven't heard much else.
[ their spectacle does draw the eye of passersby, and they earn a mixture of concerned and pleasant looks. zhongli leads them into the fray, paying no mind. ]
[ the gestures come in small doses: the hand in his, an arm about his waist, the gentle knocking of shoulders. zhongli is made conscious of every movement towards him, closing the gap that had always been so well-defined.
did zhongli really mind any of this? the feelings came and went like smoke, still a mystery to him, but it wasn't unbearable. any conversations they held with other guests seemed innocuous enough, with any comments about their 'relationship' being answered by childe—sometimes with a bald-faced lie, other times drawing from their authentic friendship. childe remembered things that zhongli never guessed he would.
zhongli can't help considering it, inciting sharp tugs beneath his ribs. once, childe lays his hand over his fist on the table, and he considers turning his hand over to take it in his grasp. he has to put on a show, doesn't he?
as they finish their orders, the guest of honor moves between guests like a spinning dancer—in fact, she's quite near their table as they stack their plates and push them aside. he leans in to murmur near his companion's shoulder. ]
Would you like to speak with her? I can introduce you.
[Here's the thing--Childe doesn't... touch people.
It's not because he doesn't want to, really. In fact, he's happily tactile under certain circumstances. He'll carry a child on his shoulders with no hesitation, and he claps his agents on the shoulder every now and then, mostly because he finds their reactions entertaining. But for the most part, it's a simple fact of Childe's life that if someone is in his personal space, they're probably trying to kill him. He's spent too long wearing hypervigilance as a second skin to permit anyone, even people like Xiangling or Hu Tao (or Zhongli, for that matter, back then) into his space easily.
To say nothing of intimate touch, though perhaps that's an overdramatic description for what they're doing. Holding hands, leaning close, all simple gestures that normal people do with their partners. Things that, Childe figured, would be easy enough to initiate. He hadn't been lying when he'd oh-so confidently declared that he knew what love looked like, and the sweet stories of his parents that he shares with Zhongli as they wander are entirely truthful. On top of all of that, he does enjoy a good performance--especially a harmless one that he knows he's putting on from the beginning. They were close enough, once, that faking a deeper relationship was supposed to be easy. It should've been fine.
Immediately, it is not fine.
Zhongli isn't the only one who falters when their fingers tangle, which is... unexpected, for one thing. A little embarrassing, for another. It's just handholding. They're both wearing gloves!!! It makes absolutely no sense for him to be suddenly, acutely aware of Zhongli's proximity. He's always admired Zhongli's hands, sure, but that's no reason that finally (finally?) touching one should stir up weird sensations in his chest. What--is he getting embarrassed now? About his own plan? That would be ridiculous.]
Well--[What was he saying? Oh, yes. His parents.]--I hope you don't mind if I'm the one talking your ear off for a change, then.
[Right. Focus. Easy. It'll just take a minute to get used to their roles, that's all. Shake it off, Tartaglia. It'll get easier.]
Somehow, it gets harder. The wandering, the chatting--that's all fine, normal. They'd spend so many evenings doing precisely this when he'd been stationed in Liyue, and Childe's always found it dangerously easy to fall into Zhongli's orbit. Zhongli is just... magnetic. And no matter how human he tries to appear, Childe doesn't think he'll ever be able to rid himself of that quietly powerful aura. It's impossible to miss now that he knows what to look for, and for someone like Childe, there's little else more enticing. It makes it terribly easy to want to stay near him, to talk, to listen. That isn't the hard part.
No, the hard part is this: the fact that Childe is indisputably, irrevocably in over his head, and there's nothing he can do about it now.
The first incident, he'd written off as pre-performance nerves. But that excuse had fallen apart so quickly. Every time he'd felt his face heat up whenever he'd realized, abruptly, how close they were. Every time he'd had to steel himself to touch Zhongli like a lover would, no matter how simple or chaste the gesture. Every time his breath caught when he'd glanced over, just in time to see the light catch Zhongli's eyes just so.
The odd sensations in his chest aren't nerves, or embarrassment. Not really. It hadn't taken him long to realize that, and then... well. Childe's inexperienced, sure, but he's not oblivious, and he's not the type to avoid acknowledging the obvious either.
(Though... it's a little strange. Sure, he's never had these feelings himself until now, but... are they supposed to be quite this sharp? This kind of relentless pull? It's a lot like fighting their Anemoboxers, actually--but that's not romantic, so no wonder nobody's described it like that in stories. Hunh.)
But they've already committed to this. They locked themselves in the moment they rejoined the group with their fingers intertwined, in full view of Ningguang and Beidou and everyone else on the ship. They're too far in to abandon the lie for a new strategy. He'll just have to deal with it, and Zhongli can make fun of him in private later.
At least he'd had the foresight to paint them as old friends turned new lovers, a convenient excuse for any awkward stumbles--though it's a double-edged sword, because it means he needs to play the part of someone enamored with a new paramour. They're lucky Zhongli has a reputation as a distinguished gentleman, or else they'd probably have to be even more touchy than they have been so far, and Childe genuinely doesn't know what he'd do then. Perish on the spot, maybe? Imagine having to kiss Zhongli just to sell an act.
--Wait, actually, no. He is not going to imagine that. He does not need to spiral any further than he already has.
Gods. It would be so much easier if he hated this.
The meal is a welcome respite, but it passes too quickly. All too soon, Zhongli is leaning close to him again, and Childe has to curl his fingers into his palms to focus on what he's saying. Fortunately, it works--Childe's too disciplined to let his gaze snap over to her, so he takes a steadying breath before he turns his head to meet Zhongli's eyes. Who'd have ever thought he'd need to brace himself just to look at the man? He's never allowed to have ideas ever again.]
Now's as good a time as any, I think. I'll leave it to you.
[ taking a vested interest in someone's hands should be some sort of sign already, childe.
since he began living his mortal life, zhongli's found agreeable and eager audiences in every corner of his harbor. he knew the names of the merchants, the routes of the ships that sail from her port, the source of every ingredient of every dish he's savored. liyue's residents flocked to him for his facts and stories—whether or not they were true, as historians would argue with him over his uncorroborated accounts and seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of things barely understood.
there were many things that might have pulled the citizenry towards him, attempting to curry favor or argue or simply enjoy his placid company. he knew this logically.
but childe's constant presence in his life was a precious anomaly. he was had and used by one of his own, and his business in liyue seemed to be finished. while childe still bemoaned the situation, he willingly and regularly visited zhongli, far from his home and his missions. invitations for spars aside, childe spoke in bright smiles and animated expressions, conversed with him about history and philosophy, introduced him to things outside of his liyue that an old and mortal ex-god would not be privy to. zhongli was only now beginning to exist in the present. childe was already there, offering his hand, drawing him in like a current.
he was still like this even now. whatever aura surrounded zhongli, childe makes up for it in charm and wit. he never falters in conversation, carefully balancing confidence and humility, sharing a far more human connection than zhongli could ever hope to accomplish. at times he allows childe to hold conversations afloat, watching as the one he's conversing with warms to him like a fire against a bitter cold, no matter their affiliation to and opinion of the fatui. zhongli felt this about him from the moment they met.
zhongli is able to swallow back any rush of blood to his cheeks—he could logic his way through just about anything. and yet, when childe would pull him against his shoulder or his chest, that feeling beneath his ribs would suddenly erupt. it's all he can do to stifle it before childe can notice his ancient heart beating against him, trying to force its way out.
he saw childe's occasional and subtle faltering, only noticeable by somehow who knew him well. at times, there would be a deeper shade of pink on his cheeks, and not simply from the night's sea-breeze and ocean spray. somehow, their eyes always seemed to slip past one another's, never able to catch hold even as zhongli's reach for him. childe wore it differently, but zhongli's seen it enough times to recognize it for what it is. but it couldn't be.
occasionally the sobering fact that he's here as a substitute would crop up (even though it's not a fact you stupid old man) and whisper itself back into existence. his countenance towards childe would briefly ice over, and he would turn his attention back to the other guests. he noticed that he did this. for once, his disappointment couldn't be helped.
he had only one previous point of reference for these feelings. it was enough to be sure of what this all meant.
their night would end. there would need to be a story crafted once the night finally ends and the sun dawns again on liyue harbor. would they meet again after this? would it be the same as before? would he have to mourn their friendship like so many other things on his life?
childe is hesitating before he raises his head to zhongli. he can see it. instead of inviting them away from their table, zhongli keeps still and holds childe's gaze once he has it. in liyue, they never gave looking at the other a second thought, wiling the night away with food and wine and stories and small games. now, even that became a vulnerability, like it might betray too much if the other searched long enough. it was as much childe's doing as it was his own.
childe's suit is still incandescently white. his eyes are so blue. ]
...You seem uneasy.
[ a thought raises to mind. zhongli smiles a little, attempting to assuage the situation. they can get rid of any misconceptions. zhongli can stop thinking that this is more than what it is. (if it's true, what then?) ]
I never would have guessed that this would be what makes you falter. Perhaps your parents' influence wasn't enough after all.
Edited (WAH SORRY!!! LAST TIME!!!) 2022-07-05 15:41 (UTC)
For now, though--Zhongli's words are more sobering than they're probably intended to be, and Childe laughs softly.]
That can't possibly be a revelation, xiansheng. [A quip, lighthearted, skirting around the edges of something too fragile to address directly. He isn't ashamed of the sort of person he is, but it's not like he doesn't know how it makes his family feel, either. There are a thousand reasons he'll lie to Teucer for as long as he possibly can, and that's one of them.
If his parents' influence had been enough for anything, he wouldn't have ever ended up in Liyue in the first place. Funny, that.
Still, it puts him on edge, a little. He really should've expected this, but he's still not used to being so easily seen. It's easy to deal with when nobody's truly looking; apparently, he'd forgotten what it felt like to be the subject of Zhongli's scrutiny.
It's difficult to hold Zhongli's gaze, but it feels a little like a challenge, so he does.]
It's fine. Just--what's that saying you have? 画虎类犬? [He's arrogant, but only because he's always acknowledged his failures and weaknesses, working to overcome them. This is no different. (Just--not in the way he's choosing to frame it.)] I'd only meant to give you a hard time, but it seems like this isn't my wheelhouse after all.
[It's not a lie. It just. Has nothing to do with why he's acting like this.]
[ he's sobered too by that quick laughter and the quip that follows. the mirth slips away from his eyes. it was a crude, almost self-deprecating joke, nowhere near what zhongli was intending. he might have touched upon something too sensitive; with their gazes unbroken, he can see the frost glaze over childe's countenance, verging on something like sadness or maybe bitterness. there's the impulse to apologize, to chase an explanation, but zhongli leaves it alone.
the conversation rolls onward. childe instead admits to his failures, almost effectively shutting down the conversation. zhongli makes a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ]
You were hoping to take revenge in addition to swaying the ambassador in your favor.
[ childe's accomplished this more times than he probably knew. zhongli cooly went along with this plan, knowing that he gave his word and that any resistance would be rebuffed, even when he knew that his feelings had deepened beyond his reach, a leash suddenly let loose.
zhongli gives in. he's the first to look away, watching the ambassador and the rabble surrounding her. ]
It isn't in your wheelhouse to act as if you're lovers with someone? Or to fluster me this way, if that was your goal?
[To the first comment, he just lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, as good as an agreement. He'd all but said as much from the start, really--you owe me--so even though this plan has backfired spectacularly, it doesn't bother him to acknowledge it.
Zhongli's words do work as a more pleasant distraction, though. When he grins again, it's much closer to his usual, more genuine cheer.]
Ahaha, both, I suppose--but I should've known there was no chance of throwing you off-kilter! If I hadn't seen the way you are around Miss Director, I would've thought you were impossible to ruffle at all.
[That, and he maybe should've stopped to realize that he's a little too obsessed with the idea of breaking Zhongli's composure and getting under his skin, like, before he wrote that stupid invitation later. That might've been helpful.]
[ childe seems to have lost steam for the entire ordeal, with his japes and nonchalant half-shrugs. the tension and nerves slough off of him, nearly palpable as zhongli dares to look at him again. any other time, zhongli might have been glad to see the cheer and confidence back on his face.
it feels like he's laughing it off, like he's willing to drop it the moment zhongli asks if they should.
his chest twists. he won't be the first to bring it up. a part of him won't allow it. the words dredge up his throat and reach his mouth with less thought than what's normally duly given to them. ]
I'll tell you what I've observed. [ whether he wants to hear it or not. childe is so stupid. he doesn't know what he did, how he looked, how zhongli had been watching him, what he inferred about him, not at all— ]
Each time you reached out to me, your hold was stiff and unsure. You looked at me often, yet you hardly met my eye until now. You continue to refer to me as 'xiansheng.' You were almost lacking confidence at times.
[ zhongli furrows his brow, searching childe's face as if seeing it for the first time. ]
Yet I'm not sure why.
[ except he is. he's laying the evidence out there. if childe wants to argue with it, he can. that's his out. ]
It's clear, immediately, that he's caught off-guard by Zhongli's response. Whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't it--his eyes are wide as Zhongli lays out everything he's picked up on, mouth slightly parted like he'd interject if only he could remember how to speak.
But... this probably shouldn't feel so shocking. Zhongli is the very embodiment of Geo, after all. He isn't like Childe--fluid and ever-changing as a rip current, quick as lightning when the mood strikes him. No, Zhongli is steady and patient, an unwavering force too solid to get swept away by the tide.
If their blades ever do clash, they will be the very picture of an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Childe wants it more than he's wanted anything in a long time, but he does not anticipate winning that fight. He wouldn't have intended to win this one, either, but that's because he didn't expect he'd have to. He'd never actually anticipated Zhongli would... do whatever it is he's trying to do, here.
Embarrass him? It doesn't feel like that's his intention, but he'd be a fool to write off the notion entirely. Unravel a curiosity? Maybe. But Childe still finds it hard to believe that Zhongli's truly as inexperienced as he claims to be. If he's noticed this much, surely it can't be a stretch to figure out the root cause.
...Maybe Zhongli's just humble. Childe's seen him deny his expertise on matters no other living being could possibly comprehend as well as he--perhaps that's more genuine than he'd assumed, and Zhongli truly doesn't think other people might... y'know.
Or maybe the absurdity is that it's Childe acting this way. That's far more reasonable, he thinks. Harbingers aren't exactly known for their warm hearts, after all, and--well, his family is one thing, but surely he's given Zhongli no other cause to think he's any different from his colleagues. They are just as cold and untouchable as their Archon, a cold front sweeping across Teyvat in her name. It would make sense if Zhongli's brought this up because the picture his puzzle pieces have formed is simply unbelievable.
(He carefully doesn't acknowledge the possibility that Zhongli's simply asking because he cares.)
Silence falls between them, the noise of the crowd barely more than dull static now. Whatever levity he'd regained is gone. Childe looks away, down at the table between them--he doesn't often let tension show, but trying to hide it now feels like a waste of effort.
[ zhongli watches the slow descent: childe's face seizing in shock, the realization dulling the luster in his eyes, the downward turn towards the table. all sounds drown out—the voices, the clattering silverware, the sound of the dark sea lapping up against the ship. he lets the silence sit among them. childe watches the table as if zhongli had laid his fortune there, revealing him more than he wanted it to.
admittedly, zhongli met childe with many preconceptions. despite being exposed to the deep complexities of the human race, morax's old habits were hard to overturn even now: compartmentalizing, organizing, making sense of things. he thought he had seen enough of human nature to understand what they all were like down to their core. guizhong was the first to change that. many after her continued her lesson, childe among them.
his assessments of childe might have been correct in the beginning. the surprise came after—when rex lapis was laid to rest and signora left liyue for the last time, gnosis in hand. he couldn't have predicted who would draw back the open chair at his table at wanmin restaurant—who would sit beside him, beam at him, and offer a small wave in greeting. Surprised?
it's difficult enough to surprise an archon, let alone the eldest one. apparently zhongli had more lessons to learn.
if these feeling were sewn back then, they blossomed now, watching childe admit to what's happened without naming his feelings. they were on the precipice of that something different he had thought about when the evening began, and zhongli had decided to seize it. childe had nothing to hide. against all logic, knowing it would never last, zhongli did care, and he wouldn't refuse him.
childe says his name and only that, nothing else to set him above or out of reach. it shouldn't affect him so deeply, hearing that silence fill the negative space of that suffix he'd been so used to hearing by now. he looks at the table himself, the empty space where his bowl had been.
his pulse is rabbiting. his heart squeezes like a fist. his cheeks are a light pink, even in candlelight. and childe... ]
Archons are not infallible. We all have our weaknesses, however small or insignificant.
[ i mean, look at barbatos. idly, zhongli sets his fingers at the base of his glass of water, running his thumb over the condensation gathered there, watching it drip. (nervous? there's no way.)]
I gave you my advice. What you do with it is up to you, Childe.
[ if he understands it, zhongli is telling him to try it again. ]
[That causes his brow to furrow; Childe glances up at him before he quite realizes he's done it, though he looks away again quickly, hopefully before Zhongli notices. Unfortunately, his gaze naturally follows Zhongli's line of sight, and he, too, finds himself staring at the water glass in Zhongli's hand. Maybe he'd be blushing too, but he's not really registering what he's seeing, too caught up in his thoughts.
There are a lot of ways he could reply without actually saying anything at all, but... Childe's always preferred being straightforward, so.]
I don't--understand what you're trying to tell me.
[He's been praised and condemned in equal measure for his supposed "silver tongue", and it's true that he's typically good with his words. Born from an enjoyment of storytelling, later a necessity for survival as a Harbinger--often, he can pick up on underlying meanings and codes, even if he doesn't necessarily know what he's listening to. One of the few consolations he'd taken from the whole Osial incident was that Zhongli had felt the need to enlist Signora's help to keep him distracted and deceived in the first place.
It doesn't really feel like they're talking about fooling the ambassador, anymore. Not just about that, anyway. But Zhongli's words aren't making sense. Weaknesses? Is he saying that because he understands what's going on, and he's trying to be reassuring in some weirdly distant way? Or is Childe simply too accustomed to reading into things, and he's trying to search for some hidden meaning that simply isn't there?
It would be easy to blame his uncertainty on Zhongli--it is, after all, because of him. But Childe can't bring himself to do that.
He's never been good at wanting things he can't have. That's not Zhongli's fault.
It's probably a little unfair to ask for explicit clarity when he's the one acting weird and dancing around an answer as to why. But... well. Fairness isn't really one of his virtues, so here they are.]
[ of course. zhongli brings his hand away from the glass and pinches between his eyes. he sighs deeply, collecting himself. the cold on his fingertips doesn't help. it's bad enough that zhongli is botching his attempt to push childe in (what seems to be) the right direction. is there a dignified way of telling someone, There are ways in which I'm weak and can still be flustered, if only you would try? And, Whether you see it or not, you've already succeeded many times?
this was easier before he had met guizhong. he might not have felt a thing for this mortal, talented as he was. he might have given him what he wanted, simply to snuff him out and rid the world of an insect.
guizhong instead softened morax's heart of stone, rolling him along the bottom of the riverbed, softening his hard edges. his heart is left scratched and cracked and crumbled with age—but still burning hot as he remembers how childe said his name.
his feelings are cottony and cloying under his ribs. they almost make him feel sick, as if rebelling the further he veers from where he means to go. maybe straightforwardness is best despite zhongli's niggling doubts: that he is a replacement and a plaything, that the evening is meant to be a ruse and not a romance, that childe's nerves and flushed cheeks were only a symptom of inexperience. maybe he should ask instead of guiding childe by his hand and leading him astray. maybe he should admit that a part of him—the god of war and contracts, the oldest of the archons, rex lapis, morax—fears being the desperate, jealous fool in all of this, despite all of the obvious signals that he isn't.
(unbeknownst to him, a faint light is creeping gently up from his collar on the side of his neck. it draws a familiar shape onto his skin, as if being filled by water. and it will undoubtedly get worse.) ]
Nevermind it. [ no. why is he saying this. ] We shouldn't continue if you're uncomfortable. We'll meet with the ambassador. Afterwards, I'll go elsewhere on the ship so as not to rouse suspicion.
[Zhongli: I'm dropping hints that I'm in love with Childe Zhongli: Childe, we all have our flaws--
No okay. Briefly, he looks... not annoyed, exactly, but something like it. Why does Zhongli get to bring this up, box him in and tear off his masks, then put it all aside as he pleases? It's not like Childe isn't used to Archon behavior, but he's admittedly still a little sensitive about being jerked around by Zhongli, specifically.
It's not really irritation so much as Childe's complete inability to not push limits that drives him to look at Zhongli again, opening his mouth--but whatever it is he'd planned to say dies on his tongue as his gaze catches on that odd glow.]
Uh, xia--Zhongli? [A part of him wants to reach out and touch, despite how ridiculously hyperaware he's been of their every point of contact all evening.] Are you--
[--sorry, no, forget every crisis he's been having about touching and proximity and all of that, he's immediately reaching out to yank Zhongli's collar out of the way, if Zhongli lets him do so.]
I didn't do that! [--Oh, shit. People are looking at them. Hastily, he lowers his voice.] How did you do that? What are you doing?!
yup. zhongli has the misfortune of not watching himself when childe suddenly grabs and pulls on his collar. all of his nerves and ruminating and ideas about the future vanish completely, because hello?? (see? he can definitely still be caught off-guard. he shouldn't have told childe to stop calling him xiansheng.)
zhongli's hand swipes up reflexively and tightly grasps childe's wrist. the guests around them are murmuring and gasping a little, turning their gazes sidelong to see the commotion.
so he's blushing a bit about it. sue him! it's more confusing than anything else. zhongli glares at him and searches him confusedly, hissing with his voice low. ]
What's the matter with you?
[ he has no idea what he's talking about. his eyes dart to the people around them, most of them watching with interest. what he should worry about is the fact that the completed mark begins to glow even brighter, the light seemingly suffused by childe's nearby hand. ]
I'm so glad I iconed all the chibi stickers yesterday
[Yeah he really shouldn't have. It could've been a cute little nickname, Zhongli. Now look what you've done! Embarrassed by your own name!
This is absolutely the wrong kind of attention, though, which--alright, look, the mission's gotten dropkicked off his list of priorities for the time being, but still. Thinking quickly, he slaps a hand over the mark and uses the grip to drag him forward, as if he has something incredibly important and intimate to say and he simply can't wait.
At least like this he can whisper in Zhongli's ear, though he manages to keep something of a smile on his face as he does. It is probably not fooling anyone but it's the thought that counts. He will put the internal panicking about having his face so close to Zhongli's on his panic tab for later.]
Me? What's the matter with you! Would it really kill you to keep me in the loop for once?
[Does it make sense that this is part of some plan Zhongli's cooked up to... uh... sell their story, or something? Look. No. But listen. He's pretty damn adaptable, but even he has his limits.]
still in zhongli's grip, childe is grabbing his neck and seizing him forward. his eyes go wide and he stares forward while childe murmurs nonsense to his ear.
anyone who sees childe smiling won't be fooled, sure, but zhongli can't see anything from where he is. he can only hear childe speaking through his smile. his skin is burning where he grabbed him. it would be torturous if it wasn't so confusing. how is childe surviving this? why his neck??
childe can apparently afford to do it later, but zhongli's going through his gay panic as they speak—all while trying (failing) to understand what's even happening.
zhongli's free hand slides forward on the table, finding leverage against it while childe has him off-balance— ]
'In the loop'? What are you—
[ —and his wrist hits the glass beside his hand. water goes everywhere on the table and especially on childe. the glass drops on its side, rolls off the table, and crashes on the ground beside zhongli's foot.
the silence is mortifying. zhongli is frozen, head turned to look at the mess of glass on the deck. if everyone wasn't looking at them before, they're looking now. ]
[Why are you surprised, Zhongli, Childe's greatest talent is making everything worse.
--But no, this time, he's actually trying to stop that from happening. But things are spiraling rapidly out of control, and he's flustered, and despite the fact that this is absolutely not the time, he still can't stop his own face from warming slightly at their proximity. If he'd been paying attention, his reflexes likely would've kicked in, but... well.
They do kick in after the fact, in that he can't help jerking back in surprise, only just managing to keep his hand on Zhongli's neck instead of jumping to his feet. The silence following the sound of shattered glass is deafening, though, and every second that they stay in this awkward pose is going to look more and more suspicious.
Quickly, he jumps to his feet, doing his best to strategically place himself between Zhongli and the majority of their onlookers. It probably doesn't wholly work, but he's good at drawing attention to himself; he laughs sheepishly, though Zhongli will probably be able to easily pick up on the awkwardness and hints of panic underneath. (At least, if he's not too caught up in his own gay spiral.)]
Ahaha, that's what I get for being impatient. [He can handle a hit to his dignity; half of Liyue already hates him. Let them think him overly bold and shameless--he is both of those things anyway, just. Not right at this moment.] So sorry, everyone! Please excuse us, we'll just... go get cleaned up.
[Ah, well. So much for not ruining Zhongli's reputation, because some people are definitely going to think they're off to defile a storage closet or something. But better that than anyone ask questions, surely?
...At least, that's what Childe would be thinking, if he stopped to think before acting. But he doesn't; instead, he just blindly grabs for Zhongli's wrist, tugging insistently to urge him out of his chair so that they can beat a strategic retreat to the interior of the ship.
(Strangely, he gets the feeling someone is laughing at them.)]
[ he would be right; someone and their date, albeit behind a golden paper fan.
childe jumps to his feet, and zhongli's first instinct in his confusion is to look at what he's doing, convinced that he's lost his faculties somehow. before zhongli can react in any way or pull childe back down into his seat, childe opens his horrible little mouth for the entire deck to hear.
this isn't happening. zhongli puts his face in his hand. maybe childe can handle the hit, but zhongli's reputation is chipping away. to everyone else (and himself) he's apparently the one in love with this embarrassing eccentric. impatient? did he really just—
childe grasps his wrist and pulls him from his seat towards the ship's interior. zhongli manages not to catch his feet on the legs of his chair, pushing on the table to hold himself steady. behind them, he can hear the murmurs of the crowd. he'll deal with the aftermath one way or another, but with all of the damage, it would take time. right now, the only thing on his mind is what's possessed childe to suddenly do all of this.
once they slip past the door into the empty hallway of the ship, zhongli wrenches his wrist from childe's grip. his cheeks are still flushed. ]
Have you lost your mind? Explain yourself. Now.
[ on his neck, the mark is glowing bright from where childe covered it. zhongli's skin burns hot—but if that was from the mark or childe's hand, he couldn't say. ]
[It's probably a small miracle that Zhongli doesn't dig his heels in or protest (or like, smite him or whatever), but Childe's too focused on getting the two of them out of the public eye to appreciate it. Any other occasion, and he would be about five seconds away from keeling over with laughter at the scandalous rumors that are bound to go flying--but he's not really in a state to appreciate the hilarity, especially given the... unexpected revelations he's been having about himself tonight.
Case in point: he lets Zhongli tear his wrist away easily, mostly because he immediately reaches for Zhongli's neck again, though he doesn't grab for it quite so roughly this time. Instead, if Zhongli lets him, he rests two fingers delicately on the mark, his gaze focused and serious as though he's searching for...
Ah. There. It's surprisingly faint, but undeniable; a gentle pulse of Hydro energy resonating with his own, like a tiny current flowing in time with Zhongli's pulse.
...Huh. Zhongli has one too, just like a normal human. He's never thought about it before. He wonders if it's fake, just another one of Zhongli's many ruses, or if Zhongli's heartbeat is every bit as real as his own.
It's fast, he notices--but he doesn't have time to dwell on that as awareness crashes back down on him, and he blinks rapidly, as if forcibly shaken from a reverie. He drops his hand as if Zhongli's skin has burned him, backing up to put space between them. His own heart's beating so hard, he's half-expecting Zhongli to hear it, but he doesn't say anything; he just coughs awkwardly, reaching into his jacket.
He doesn't exactly carry a mirror on him, but he does have a knife, because of course he does. He pulls it out and stabs Zhongli--no just kidding. He does stab it, but only into the wall of the ship next to Zhongli and gestures, watching his face intently.
...Okay maybe it's a little melodramatic, but surely he can be forgiven this once.]
[ childe had an edge on him the day he stole a seat beside him at third-round knockout. zhongli hadn't sensed any threat in the area, and the fatui had no reason to target him again anyway. he only hadn't expected exactly who would be seeking him out—but it wasn't a shock when he saw him. they fell into conversation immediately, smooth as silk.
earlier that evening, zhongli hadn't been sure why he ordered a full carafe of wine. he wouldn't have finished it on his own.
maybe this is why he doesn't force childe away when he boxes him in and grasps his neck again. (surprising, considering how vulnerable that part is. anyone else might have met their end between two boulders or under a giant meteor.) zhongli's hand shoots out again to tightly grip childe's wrist—almost twisting, a little threatening.
he feels the press of those fingers and his pulse rising to meet it. he stares outward, beginning to ask what's happened before childe draws away. zhongli hesitates before letting him go. he seems just as confused as him.
his eyes dart to the hand reaching into his jacket, already predicting what it was searching for. was he expecting to cut the offending thing out of his neck? was he finding his pulse for a reason? no—if childe had wanted to sink his knife into him, he had plenty of opportunities to do so already. it didn't line up with all that had happened.
zhongli blinks and the knife hits the wall beside him. he sees the knife shining in his periphery, though his eyes are still settled on childe. he gestures, and zhongli turns to look.
he's observed childe's skillset from a distance before. in the early days of their odd friendship, he was a surreptitious audience to one of his battles against the traveler in the golden house. back then, the mark was enormous and ghostlike, possessing the center of the traveler's body and acting as a target for one of childe's most concentrated attacks. zhongli made sure to remember it.
this isn't like that. he presses his fingers to his skin and watches as it gives and stretches like a scar. its blue outline is almost white now, incandescent where childe had touched it, as if his vision suffused and revived it.
zhongli's heart drops into his stomach. he knows this mark—had something like it once before, thousands of years ago. in that flowering field, a symbol drew itself in gold on the inside of his forearm—a geometric representation of a blooming glaze lily, seen from a bird's eye view. guizhong gently explained to him what it was, smiling with amusement and showing him the shimmering geo symbol on the back of her hand. morax avoided her for a little while after that, sorting through his thoughts, but he couldn't stay away for long.
with guizhong's death, the symbol's faint light slowly eroded. when zhongli shed the dark skin of morax, it disappeared entirely along with it.
zhongli turns his head to childe, eyes wide and staring, fingers still on his neck. his mouth parts open and his stone heart revives, beating upwards into his throat. there shouldn't be two marks. yet here he is. here they are. ]
You...
[ he says quietly, trailing off. childe already said he hadn't done it. he wouldn't have done what he did if that was the case. but why here and now? ]
[Any other time, and that grip on his wrist would've been as good as an invitation, earning Zhongli a vicious grin and ever-more wheedling for a fight. But for once, a fight isn't on his mind; he's far too concerned with watching Zhongli.
With a little more space back between them, and in the quiet of the hallway, it's a little bit easier to clear his head--he'd intended to apologize for causing a scene (hah), but Zhongli's reaction gives him pause.
(And oh, what he wouldn't give to see that wide-eyed look under different circumstances. How many times has he daydreamed about shocking Zhongli on the battlefield, of meeting that legendary strength and proving himself capable against it? He'd be--not jealous, of course, but maybe a little annoyed, if he wasn't so confused.)]
...It wasn't me. [Just--restating, since a lot has happened in the past few minutes. Zhongli's right; he wouldn't have reacted this way if he'd done this. It's undeniably his symbol, but it's a mark he uses exclusively for battle, not... whatever's happening here.] But judging from that expression, it wasn't you, either.
[So his initial assumption, lacking a basis though it was, is off-base, leaving him with nothing but the shock on Zhongli's face to work with. He isn't sensing anything Abyssal, so it can't be that...]
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no subject
Well shit now he feels a tiny bit bad and he doesn't even really know why. DAMN IT ZHONGLI. THIS IS HIS PETTY REVENGE, DON'T MAKE HIM FEEL IMMATURE EVEN THOUGH HE IS DEFINITELY BEING IMMATURE.
Perhaps if either of them stopped to think about it for more than 5 seconds, they would realize that no, actually, Zhongli is not anywhere near the most convenient choice--but Childe certainly isn't going to do that, because untangling his Zhongli emotions is not on his to-do list at this time.
Instead, he sighs, as if to clear away the offer for an out resting on the tip of his tongue. It's too late now, unless he were to throw the entire mission for the sake of--what, a shred of honor? The memory of a friendship that wasn't wholly genuine on either side? No.
Zhongli says he's had enough, so... showtime, it seems. Gods. Maybe Zhongli just thinks he's going to take the chance to be over-the-top embarrassing, which would be funny but ultimately detrimental to his goals. Once they're in it, they'll probably be fine. Right? Right.]
Let's go, then. [Moving forward, and reaching out!! If Zhongli doesn't stop him, then he'll seize one of Zhongli's hands and lace their fingers together.] I suppose I really haven't told you much about my parents, have I?
[So, no, not Fatui at all. Even though Childe will definitely gossip about Vlad and Nadia at some point during the evening, because he is a good boss who pays attention to his agents even if he doesn't let them meet 90% of the time.
ANYWAY. Off they go!!]
1/2
but he also hadn't thought about this part—when childe suddenly catches his hand and weaves their fingers together, firmly grasping the row of his knuckles. zhongli slows with surprise the moment it happens, looking at their joined hands and then at childe as he matches his stride. his fingers are loose, but childe still holds them.
it's part of the act, he tells himself. it's a small gesture done even by children, by elders and their progeny, by close friends keeping a secret or giving comfort. it means nothing, yet there's a flurry of feeling when it happens, warm and cottony in his chest. nothing has ever felt like that before.
he catches himself before he stares for too long. he brings himself out of his thoughts and feelings, closing his finger's over childe's hand and continuing to walk them into the party, ignoring the little feelings sparking in his chest like striking matches. anyway. anyway!
"my parents." so that's where he learned about love. there's a little comfort in knowing childe would talk about something very personal to him. he looked forward to those conversations the most.
a smile eases on his lips, whether he likes it or not. ]
You've spoken of them in relation to your siblings. I haven't heard much else.
[ their spectacle does draw the eye of passersby, and they earn a mixture of concerned and pleasant looks. zhongli leads them into the fray, paying no mind. ]
2/2
did zhongli really mind any of this? the feelings came and went like smoke, still a mystery to him, but it wasn't unbearable. any conversations they held with other guests seemed innocuous enough, with any comments about their 'relationship' being answered by childe—sometimes with a bald-faced lie, other times drawing from their authentic friendship. childe remembered things that zhongli never guessed he would.
zhongli can't help considering it, inciting sharp tugs beneath his ribs. once, childe lays his hand over his fist on the table, and he considers turning his hand over to take it in his grasp. he has to put on a show, doesn't he?
as they finish their orders, the guest of honor moves between guests like a spinning dancer—in fact, she's quite near their table as they stack their plates and push them aside. he leans in to murmur near his companion's shoulder. ]
Would you like to speak with her? I can introduce you.
1/2
It's not because he doesn't want to, really. In fact, he's happily tactile under certain circumstances. He'll carry a child on his shoulders with no hesitation, and he claps his agents on the shoulder every now and then, mostly because he finds their reactions entertaining. But for the most part, it's a simple fact of Childe's life that if someone is in his personal space, they're probably trying to kill him. He's spent too long wearing hypervigilance as a second skin to permit anyone, even people like Xiangling or Hu Tao (or Zhongli, for that matter, back then) into his space easily.
To say nothing of intimate touch, though perhaps that's an overdramatic description for what they're doing. Holding hands, leaning close, all simple gestures that normal people do with their partners. Things that, Childe figured, would be easy enough to initiate. He hadn't been lying when he'd oh-so confidently declared that he knew what love looked like, and the sweet stories of his parents that he shares with Zhongli as they wander are entirely truthful. On top of all of that, he does enjoy a good performance--especially a harmless one that he knows he's putting on from the beginning. They were close enough, once, that faking a deeper relationship was supposed to be easy. It should've been fine.
Immediately, it is not fine.
Zhongli isn't the only one who falters when their fingers tangle, which is... unexpected, for one thing. A little embarrassing, for another. It's just handholding. They're both wearing gloves!!! It makes absolutely no sense for him to be suddenly, acutely aware of Zhongli's proximity. He's always admired Zhongli's hands, sure, but that's no reason that finally (finally?) touching one should stir up weird sensations in his chest. What--is he getting embarrassed now? About his own plan? That would be ridiculous.]
Well--[What was he saying? Oh, yes. His parents.]--I hope you don't mind if I'm the one talking your ear off for a change, then.
[Right. Focus. Easy. It'll just take a minute to get used to their roles, that's all. Shake it off, Tartaglia. It'll get easier.]
2/2
Somehow, it gets harder. The wandering, the chatting--that's all fine, normal. They'd spend so many evenings doing precisely this when he'd been stationed in Liyue, and Childe's always found it dangerously easy to fall into Zhongli's orbit. Zhongli is just... magnetic. And no matter how human he tries to appear, Childe doesn't think he'll ever be able to rid himself of that quietly powerful aura. It's impossible to miss now that he knows what to look for, and for someone like Childe, there's little else more enticing. It makes it terribly easy to want to stay near him, to talk, to listen. That isn't the hard part.
No, the hard part is this: the fact that Childe is indisputably, irrevocably in over his head, and there's nothing he can do about it now.
The first incident, he'd written off as pre-performance nerves. But that excuse had fallen apart so quickly. Every time he'd felt his face heat up whenever he'd realized, abruptly, how close they were. Every time he'd had to steel himself to touch Zhongli like a lover would, no matter how simple or chaste the gesture. Every time his breath caught when he'd glanced over, just in time to see the light catch Zhongli's eyes just so.
The odd sensations in his chest aren't nerves, or embarrassment. Not really. It hadn't taken him long to realize that, and then... well. Childe's inexperienced, sure, but he's not oblivious, and he's not the type to avoid acknowledging the obvious either.
(Though... it's a little strange. Sure, he's never had these feelings himself until now, but... are they supposed to be quite this sharp? This kind of relentless pull? It's a lot like fighting their Anemoboxers, actually--but that's not romantic, so no wonder nobody's described it like that in stories. Hunh.)
But they've already committed to this. They locked themselves in the moment they rejoined the group with their fingers intertwined, in full view of Ningguang and Beidou and everyone else on the ship. They're too far in to abandon the lie for a new strategy. He'll just have to deal with it, and Zhongli can make fun of him in private later.
At least he'd had the foresight to paint them as old friends turned new lovers, a convenient excuse for any awkward stumbles--though it's a double-edged sword, because it means he needs to play the part of someone enamored with a new paramour. They're lucky Zhongli has a reputation as a distinguished gentleman, or else they'd probably have to be even more touchy than they have been so far, and Childe genuinely doesn't know what he'd do then. Perish on the spot, maybe? Imagine having to kiss Zhongli just to sell an act.
--Wait, actually, no. He is not going to imagine that. He does not need to spiral any further than he already has.
Gods. It would be so much easier if he hated this.
The meal is a welcome respite, but it passes too quickly. All too soon, Zhongli is leaning close to him again, and Childe has to curl his fingers into his palms to focus on what he's saying. Fortunately, it works--Childe's too disciplined to let his gaze snap over to her, so he takes a steadying breath before he turns his head to meet Zhongli's eyes. Who'd have ever thought he'd need to brace himself just to look at the man? He's never allowed to have ideas ever again.]
Now's as good a time as any, I think. I'll leave it to you.
no subject
since he began living his mortal life, zhongli's found agreeable and eager audiences in every corner of his harbor. he knew the names of the merchants, the routes of the ships that sail from her port, the source of every ingredient of every dish he's savored. liyue's residents flocked to him for his facts and stories—whether or not they were true, as historians would argue with him over his uncorroborated accounts and seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of things barely understood.
there were many things that might have pulled the citizenry towards him, attempting to curry favor or argue or simply enjoy his placid company. he knew this logically.
but childe's constant presence in his life was a precious anomaly. he was had and used by one of his own, and his business in liyue seemed to be finished. while childe still bemoaned the situation, he willingly and regularly visited zhongli, far from his home and his missions. invitations for spars aside, childe spoke in bright smiles and animated expressions, conversed with him about history and philosophy, introduced him to things outside of his liyue that an old and mortal ex-god would not be privy to. zhongli was only now beginning to exist in the present. childe was already there, offering his hand, drawing him in like a current.
he was still like this even now. whatever aura surrounded zhongli, childe makes up for it in charm and wit. he never falters in conversation, carefully balancing confidence and humility, sharing a far more human connection than zhongli could ever hope to accomplish. at times he allows childe to hold conversations afloat, watching as the one he's conversing with warms to him like a fire against a bitter cold, no matter their affiliation to and opinion of the fatui. zhongli felt this about him from the moment they met.
zhongli is able to swallow back any rush of blood to his cheeks—he could logic his way through just about anything. and yet, when childe would pull him against his shoulder or his chest, that feeling beneath his ribs would suddenly erupt. it's all he can do to stifle it before childe can notice his ancient heart beating against him, trying to force its way out.
he saw childe's occasional and subtle faltering, only noticeable by somehow who knew him well. at times, there would be a deeper shade of pink on his cheeks, and not simply from the night's sea-breeze and ocean spray. somehow, their eyes always seemed to slip past one another's, never able to catch hold even as zhongli's reach for him. childe wore it differently, but zhongli's seen it enough times to recognize it for what it is. but it couldn't be.
occasionally the sobering fact that he's here as a substitute would crop up (even though it's not a fact you stupid old man) and whisper itself back into existence. his countenance towards childe would briefly ice over, and he would turn his attention back to the other guests. he noticed that he did this. for once, his disappointment couldn't be helped.
he had only one previous point of reference for these feelings. it was enough to be sure of what this all meant.
their night would end. there would need to be a story crafted once the night finally ends and the sun dawns again on liyue harbor. would they meet again after this? would it be the same as before? would he have to mourn their friendship like so many other things on his life?
childe is hesitating before he raises his head to zhongli. he can see it. instead of inviting them away from their table, zhongli keeps still and holds childe's gaze once he has it. in liyue, they never gave looking at the other a second thought, wiling the night away with food and wine and stories and small games. now, even that became a vulnerability, like it might betray too much if the other searched long enough. it was as much childe's doing as it was his own.
childe's suit is still incandescently white. his eyes are so blue. ]
...You seem uneasy.
[ a thought raises to mind. zhongli smiles a little, attempting to assuage the situation. they can get rid of any misconceptions. zhongli can stop thinking that this is more than what it is. (if it's true, what then?) ]
I never would have guessed that this would be what makes you falter. Perhaps your parents' influence wasn't enough after all.
no subject
For now, though--Zhongli's words are more sobering than they're probably intended to be, and Childe laughs softly.]
That can't possibly be a revelation, xiansheng. [A quip, lighthearted, skirting around the edges of something too fragile to address directly. He isn't ashamed of the sort of person he is, but it's not like he doesn't know how it makes his family feel, either. There are a thousand reasons he'll lie to Teucer for as long as he possibly can, and that's one of them.
If his parents' influence had been enough for anything, he wouldn't have ever ended up in Liyue in the first place. Funny, that.
Still, it puts him on edge, a little. He really should've expected this, but he's still not used to being so easily seen. It's easy to deal with when nobody's truly looking; apparently, he'd forgotten what it felt like to be the subject of Zhongli's scrutiny.
It's difficult to hold Zhongli's gaze, but it feels a little like a challenge, so he does.]
It's fine. Just--what's that saying you have? 画虎类犬? [He's arrogant, but only because he's always acknowledged his failures and weaknesses, working to overcome them. This is no different. (Just--not in the way he's choosing to frame it.)] I'd only meant to give you a hard time, but it seems like this isn't my wheelhouse after all.
[It's not a lie. It just. Has nothing to do with why he's acting like this.]
no subject
the conversation rolls onward. childe instead admits to his failures, almost effectively shutting down the conversation. zhongli makes a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ]
You were hoping to take revenge in addition to swaying the ambassador in your favor.
[ childe's accomplished this more times than he probably knew. zhongli cooly went along with this plan, knowing that he gave his word and that any resistance would be rebuffed, even when he knew that his feelings had deepened beyond his reach, a leash suddenly let loose.
zhongli gives in. he's the first to look away, watching the ambassador and the rabble surrounding her. ]
It isn't in your wheelhouse to act as if you're lovers with someone? Or to fluster me this way, if that was your goal?
no subject
Zhongli's words do work as a more pleasant distraction, though. When he grins again, it's much closer to his usual, more genuine cheer.]
Ahaha, both, I suppose--but I should've known there was no chance of throwing you off-kilter! If I hadn't seen the way you are around Miss Director, I would've thought you were impossible to ruffle at all.
[That, and he maybe should've stopped to realize that he's a little too obsessed with the idea of breaking Zhongli's composure and getting under his skin, like, before he wrote that stupid invitation later. That might've been helpful.]
no subject
it feels like he's laughing it off, like he's willing to drop it the moment zhongli asks if they should.
his chest twists. he won't be the first to bring it up. a part of him won't allow it. the words dredge up his throat and reach his mouth with less thought than what's normally duly given to them. ]
I'll tell you what I've observed. [ whether he wants to hear it or not. childe is so stupid. he doesn't know what he did, how he looked, how zhongli had been watching him, what he inferred about him, not at all— ]
Each time you reached out to me, your hold was stiff and unsure. You looked at me often, yet you hardly met my eye until now. You continue to refer to me as 'xiansheng.' You were almost lacking confidence at times.
[ zhongli furrows his brow, searching childe's face as if seeing it for the first time. ]
Yet I'm not sure why.
[ except he is. he's laying the evidence out there. if childe wants to argue with it, he can. that's his out. ]
Perhaps it was my doing.
no subject
It's clear, immediately, that he's caught off-guard by Zhongli's response. Whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't it--his eyes are wide as Zhongli lays out everything he's picked up on, mouth slightly parted like he'd interject if only he could remember how to speak.
But... this probably shouldn't feel so shocking. Zhongli is the very embodiment of Geo, after all. He isn't like Childe--fluid and ever-changing as a rip current, quick as lightning when the mood strikes him. No, Zhongli is steady and patient, an unwavering force too solid to get swept away by the tide.
If their blades ever do clash, they will be the very picture of an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Childe wants it more than he's wanted anything in a long time, but he does not anticipate winning that fight. He wouldn't have intended to win this one, either, but that's because he didn't expect he'd have to. He'd never actually anticipated Zhongli would... do whatever it is he's trying to do, here.
Embarrass him? It doesn't feel like that's his intention, but he'd be a fool to write off the notion entirely. Unravel a curiosity? Maybe. But Childe still finds it hard to believe that Zhongli's truly as inexperienced as he claims to be. If he's noticed this much, surely it can't be a stretch to figure out the root cause.
...Maybe Zhongli's just humble. Childe's seen him deny his expertise on matters no other living being could possibly comprehend as well as he--perhaps that's more genuine than he'd assumed, and Zhongli truly doesn't think other people might... y'know.
Or maybe the absurdity is that it's Childe acting this way. That's far more reasonable, he thinks. Harbingers aren't exactly known for their warm hearts, after all, and--well, his family is one thing, but surely he's given Zhongli no other cause to think he's any different from his colleagues. They are just as cold and untouchable as their Archon, a cold front sweeping across Teyvat in her name. It would make sense if Zhongli's brought this up because the picture his puzzle pieces have formed is simply unbelievable.
(He carefully doesn't acknowledge the possibility that Zhongli's simply asking because he cares.)
Silence falls between them, the noise of the crowd barely more than dull static now. Whatever levity he'd regained is gone. Childe looks away, down at the table between them--he doesn't often let tension show, but trying to hide it now feels like a waste of effort.
Eventually, quietly:]
...I'm not sure what you want me to say, Zhongli.
no subject
admittedly, zhongli met childe with many preconceptions. despite being exposed to the deep complexities of the human race, morax's old habits were hard to overturn even now: compartmentalizing, organizing, making sense of things. he thought he had seen enough of human nature to understand what they all were like down to their core. guizhong was the first to change that. many after her continued her lesson, childe among them.
his assessments of childe might have been correct in the beginning. the surprise came after—when rex lapis was laid to rest and signora left liyue for the last time, gnosis in hand. he couldn't have predicted who would draw back the open chair at his table at wanmin restaurant—who would sit beside him, beam at him, and offer a small wave in greeting. Surprised?
it's difficult enough to surprise an archon, let alone the eldest one. apparently zhongli had more lessons to learn.
if these feeling were sewn back then, they blossomed now, watching childe admit to what's happened without naming his feelings. they were on the precipice of that something different he had thought about when the evening began, and zhongli had decided to seize it. childe had nothing to hide. against all logic, knowing it would never last, zhongli did care, and he wouldn't refuse him.
childe says his name and only that, nothing else to set him above or out of reach. it shouldn't affect him so deeply, hearing that silence fill the negative space of that suffix he'd been so used to hearing by now. he looks at the table himself, the empty space where his bowl had been.
his pulse is rabbiting. his heart squeezes like a fist. his cheeks are a light pink, even in candlelight. and childe... ]
Archons are not infallible. We all have our weaknesses, however small or insignificant.
[ i mean, look at barbatos. idly, zhongli sets his fingers at the base of his glass of water, running his thumb over the condensation gathered there, watching it drip. (nervous? there's no way.)]
I gave you my advice. What you do with it is up to you, Childe.
[ if he understands it, zhongli is telling him to try it again. ]
no subject
There are a lot of ways he could reply without actually saying anything at all, but... Childe's always preferred being straightforward, so.]
I don't--understand what you're trying to tell me.
[He's been praised and condemned in equal measure for his supposed "silver tongue", and it's true that he's typically good with his words. Born from an enjoyment of storytelling, later a necessity for survival as a Harbinger--often, he can pick up on underlying meanings and codes, even if he doesn't necessarily know what he's listening to. One of the few consolations he'd taken from the whole Osial incident was that Zhongli had felt the need to enlist Signora's help to keep him distracted and deceived in the first place.
It doesn't really feel like they're talking about fooling the ambassador, anymore. Not just about that, anyway. But Zhongli's words aren't making sense. Weaknesses? Is he saying that because he understands what's going on, and he's trying to be reassuring in some weirdly distant way? Or is Childe simply too accustomed to reading into things, and he's trying to search for some hidden meaning that simply isn't there?
It would be easy to blame his uncertainty on Zhongli--it is, after all, because of him. But Childe can't bring himself to do that.
He's never been good at wanting things he can't have. That's not Zhongli's fault.
It's probably a little unfair to ask for explicit clarity when he's the one acting weird and dancing around an answer as to why. But... well. Fairness isn't really one of his virtues, so here they are.]
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this was easier before he had met guizhong. he might not have felt a thing for this mortal, talented as he was. he might have given him what he wanted, simply to snuff him out and rid the world of an insect.
guizhong instead softened morax's heart of stone, rolling him along the bottom of the riverbed, softening his hard edges. his heart is left scratched and cracked and crumbled with age—but still burning hot as he remembers how childe said his name.
his feelings are cottony and cloying under his ribs. they almost make him feel sick, as if rebelling the further he veers from where he means to go. maybe straightforwardness is best despite zhongli's niggling doubts: that he is a replacement and a plaything, that the evening is meant to be a ruse and not a romance, that childe's nerves and flushed cheeks were only a symptom of inexperience. maybe he should ask instead of guiding childe by his hand and leading him astray. maybe he should admit that a part of him—the god of war and contracts, the oldest of the archons, rex lapis, morax—fears being the desperate, jealous fool in all of this, despite all of the obvious signals that he isn't.
(unbeknownst to him, a faint light is creeping gently up from his collar on the side of his neck. it draws a familiar shape onto his skin, as if being filled by water. and it will undoubtedly get worse.) ]
Nevermind it. [ no. why is he saying this. ] We shouldn't continue if you're uncomfortable. We'll meet with the ambassador. Afterwards, I'll go elsewhere on the ship so as not to rouse suspicion.
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Zhongli: Childe, we all have our flaws--
No okay. Briefly, he looks... not annoyed, exactly, but something like it. Why does Zhongli get to bring this up, box him in and tear off his masks, then put it all aside as he pleases? It's not like Childe isn't used to Archon behavior, but he's admittedly still a little sensitive about being jerked around by Zhongli, specifically.
It's not really irritation so much as Childe's complete inability to not push limits that drives him to look at Zhongli again, opening his mouth--but whatever it is he'd planned to say dies on his tongue as his gaze catches on that odd glow.]
Uh, xia--Zhongli? [A part of him wants to reach out and touch, despite how ridiculously hyperaware he's been of their every point of contact all evening.] Are you--
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It's not just a vague, Magical Archon-y light. Nor is it a Geo symbol. It's blue? That's odd. Hey, that shape looks familiar. It kind of looks like--]
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I didn't do that! [--Oh, shit. People are looking at them. Hastily, he lowers his voice.] How did you do that? What are you doing?!
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yup. zhongli has the misfortune of not watching himself when childe suddenly grabs and pulls on his collar. all of his nerves and ruminating and ideas about the future vanish completely, because hello?? (see? he can definitely still be caught off-guard. he shouldn't have told childe to stop calling him xiansheng.)
zhongli's hand swipes up reflexively and tightly grasps childe's wrist. the guests around them are murmuring and gasping a little, turning their gazes sidelong to see the commotion.
so he's blushing a bit about it. sue him! it's more confusing than anything else. zhongli glares at him and searches him confusedly, hissing with his voice low. ]
What's the matter with you?
[ he has no idea what he's talking about. his eyes dart to the people around them, most of them watching with interest. what he should worry about is the fact that the completed mark begins to glow even brighter, the light seemingly suffused by childe's nearby hand. ]
I'm so glad I iconed all the chibi stickers yesterday
This is absolutely the wrong kind of attention, though, which--alright, look, the mission's gotten dropkicked off his list of priorities for the time being, but still. Thinking quickly, he slaps a hand over the mark and uses the grip to drag him forward, as if he has something incredibly important and intimate to say and he simply can't wait.
At least like this he can whisper in Zhongli's ear, though he manages to keep something of a smile on his face as he does. It is probably not fooling anyone but it's the thought that counts. He will put the internal panicking about having his face so close to Zhongli's on his panic tab for later.]
Me? What's the matter with you! Would it really kill you to keep me in the loop for once?
[Does it make sense that this is part of some plan Zhongli's cooked up to... uh... sell their story, or something? Look. No. But listen. He's pretty damn adaptable, but even he has his limits.]
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still in zhongli's grip, childe is grabbing his neck and seizing him forward. his eyes go wide and he stares forward while childe murmurs nonsense to his ear.
anyone who sees childe smiling won't be fooled, sure, but zhongli can't see anything from where he is. he can only hear childe speaking through his smile. his skin is burning where he grabbed him. it would be torturous if it wasn't so confusing. how is childe surviving this? why his neck??
childe can apparently afford to do it later, but zhongli's going through his gay panic as they speak—all while trying (failing) to understand what's even happening.
zhongli's free hand slides forward on the table, finding leverage against it while childe has him off-balance— ]
'In the loop'? What are you—
[ —and his wrist hits the glass beside his hand. water goes everywhere on the table and especially on childe. the glass drops on its side, rolls off the table, and crashes on the ground beside zhongli's foot.
the silence is mortifying. zhongli is frozen, head turned to look at the mess of glass on the deck. if everyone wasn't looking at them before, they're looking now. ]
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--But no, this time, he's actually trying to stop that from happening. But things are spiraling rapidly out of control, and he's flustered, and despite the fact that this is absolutely not the time, he still can't stop his own face from warming slightly at their proximity. If he'd been paying attention, his reflexes likely would've kicked in, but... well.
They do kick in after the fact, in that he can't help jerking back in surprise, only just managing to keep his hand on Zhongli's neck instead of jumping to his feet. The silence following the sound of shattered glass is deafening, though, and every second that they stay in this awkward pose is going to look more and more suspicious.
Quickly, he jumps to his feet, doing his best to strategically place himself between Zhongli and the majority of their onlookers. It probably doesn't wholly work, but he's good at drawing attention to himself; he laughs sheepishly, though Zhongli will probably be able to easily pick up on the awkwardness and hints of panic underneath. (At least, if he's not too caught up in his own gay spiral.)]
Ahaha, that's what I get for being impatient. [He can handle a hit to his dignity; half of Liyue already hates him. Let them think him overly bold and shameless--he is both of those things anyway, just. Not right at this moment.] So sorry, everyone! Please excuse us, we'll just... go get cleaned up.
[Ah, well. So much for not ruining Zhongli's reputation, because some people are definitely going to think they're off to defile a storage closet or something. But better that than anyone ask questions, surely?
...At least, that's what Childe would be thinking, if he stopped to think before acting. But he doesn't; instead, he just blindly grabs for Zhongli's wrist, tugging insistently to urge him out of his chair so that they can beat a strategic retreat to the interior of the ship.
(Strangely, he gets the feeling someone is laughing at them.)]
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childe jumps to his feet, and zhongli's first instinct in his confusion is to look at what he's doing, convinced that he's lost his faculties somehow. before zhongli can react in any way or pull childe back down into his seat, childe opens his horrible little mouth for the entire deck to hear.
this isn't happening. zhongli puts his face in his hand. maybe childe can handle the hit, but zhongli's reputation is chipping away. to everyone else (and himself) he's apparently the one in love with this embarrassing eccentric. impatient? did he really just—
childe grasps his wrist and pulls him from his seat towards the ship's interior. zhongli manages not to catch his feet on the legs of his chair, pushing on the table to hold himself steady. behind them, he can hear the murmurs of the crowd. he'll deal with the aftermath one way or another, but with all of the damage, it would take time. right now, the only thing on his mind is what's possessed childe to suddenly do all of this.
once they slip past the door into the empty hallway of the ship, zhongli wrenches his wrist from childe's grip. his cheeks are still flushed. ]
Have you lost your mind? Explain yourself. Now.
[ on his neck, the mark is glowing bright from where childe covered it. zhongli's skin burns hot—but if that was from the mark or childe's hand, he couldn't say. ]
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Case in point: he lets Zhongli tear his wrist away easily, mostly because he immediately reaches for Zhongli's neck again, though he doesn't grab for it quite so roughly this time. Instead, if Zhongli lets him, he rests two fingers delicately on the mark, his gaze focused and serious as though he's searching for...
Ah. There. It's surprisingly faint, but undeniable; a gentle pulse of Hydro energy resonating with his own, like a tiny current flowing in time with Zhongli's pulse.
...Huh. Zhongli has one too, just like a normal human. He's never thought about it before. He wonders if it's fake, just another one of Zhongli's many ruses, or if Zhongli's heartbeat is every bit as real as his own.
It's fast, he notices--but he doesn't have time to dwell on that as awareness crashes back down on him, and he blinks rapidly, as if forcibly shaken from a reverie. He drops his hand as if Zhongli's skin has burned him, backing up to put space between them. His own heart's beating so hard, he's half-expecting Zhongli to hear it, but he doesn't say anything; he just coughs awkwardly, reaching into his jacket.
He doesn't exactly carry a mirror on him, but he does have a knife, because of course he does. He pulls it out and stabs Zhongli--no just kidding. He does stab it, but only into the wall of the ship next to Zhongli and gestures, watching his face intently.
...Okay maybe it's a little melodramatic, but surely he can be forgiven this once.]
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earlier that evening, zhongli hadn't been sure why he ordered a full carafe of wine. he wouldn't have finished it on his own.
maybe this is why he doesn't force childe away when he boxes him in and grasps his neck again. (surprising, considering how vulnerable that part is. anyone else might have met their end between two boulders or under a giant meteor.) zhongli's hand shoots out again to tightly grip childe's wrist—almost twisting, a little threatening.
he feels the press of those fingers and his pulse rising to meet it. he stares outward, beginning to ask what's happened before childe draws away. zhongli hesitates before letting him go. he seems just as confused as him.
his eyes dart to the hand reaching into his jacket, already predicting what it was searching for. was he expecting to cut the offending thing out of his neck? was he finding his pulse for a reason? no—if childe had wanted to sink his knife into him, he had plenty of opportunities to do so already. it didn't line up with all that had happened.
zhongli blinks and the knife hits the wall beside him. he sees the knife shining in his periphery, though his eyes are still settled on childe. he gestures, and zhongli turns to look.
he's observed childe's skillset from a distance before. in the early days of their odd friendship, he was a surreptitious audience to one of his battles against the traveler in the golden house. back then, the mark was enormous and ghostlike, possessing the center of the traveler's body and acting as a target for one of childe's most concentrated attacks. zhongli made sure to remember it.
this isn't like that. he presses his fingers to his skin and watches as it gives and stretches like a scar. its blue outline is almost white now, incandescent where childe had touched it, as if his vision suffused and revived it.
zhongli's heart drops into his stomach. he knows this mark—had something like it once before, thousands of years ago. in that flowering field, a symbol drew itself in gold on the inside of his forearm—a geometric representation of a blooming glaze lily, seen from a bird's eye view. guizhong gently explained to him what it was, smiling with amusement and showing him the shimmering geo symbol on the back of her hand. morax avoided her for a little while after that, sorting through his thoughts, but he couldn't stay away for long.
with guizhong's death, the symbol's faint light slowly eroded. when zhongli shed the dark skin of morax, it disappeared entirely along with it.
zhongli turns his head to childe, eyes wide and staring, fingers still on his neck. his mouth parts open and his stone heart revives, beating upwards into his throat. there shouldn't be two marks. yet here he is. here they are. ]
You...
[ he says quietly, trailing off. childe already said he hadn't done it. he wouldn't have done what he did if that was the case. but why here and now? ]
It's not possible.
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With a little more space back between them, and in the quiet of the hallway, it's a little bit easier to clear his head--he'd intended to apologize for causing a scene (hah), but Zhongli's reaction gives him pause.
(And oh, what he wouldn't give to see that wide-eyed look under different circumstances. How many times has he daydreamed about shocking Zhongli on the battlefield, of meeting that legendary strength and proving himself capable against it? He'd be--not jealous, of course, but maybe a little annoyed, if he wasn't so confused.)]
...It wasn't me. [Just--restating, since a lot has happened in the past few minutes. Zhongli's right; he wouldn't have reacted this way if he'd done this. It's undeniably his symbol, but it's a mark he uses exclusively for battle, not... whatever's happening here.] But judging from that expression, it wasn't you, either.
[So his initial assumption, lacking a basis though it was, is off-base, leaving him with nothing but the shock on Zhongli's face to work with. He isn't sensing anything Abyssal, so it can't be that...]
What's not possible?
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you can assume zhongli takes him to another room idk this is too long and i rewrote it a bunch
LMKSJDGHKH both of us watching our tags spiral out of control
1/2 HONESTLY
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this is so long excuse me...
LMFSDKJHG in this house we trade novels
YEAH.... YUP
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the way my paid ran out and I'm left with like 90% chibi icons lmfdksjghjkhsg
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nice fall out boy reference
JHDFKJSHGK I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE
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I would LOVE if dw would stop giving me errors every time I comment
I KNOW FR i'm back to writing in my notes app
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