[ 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...]
[ childe's words are nearly drowned by his racing thoughts. pieces are slowly but surely sliding and locking into place. he deserves an answer, but if zhongli had this mark, if it is what he thinks it is, then it would stand to reason that—
in the little window of skin where his shirt and jacket unbutton and part open, just above his waistband, zhongli catches sight of a faint glimmer of gold. (why is childe still wearing his suit like this? maybe he was hoping a fight onboard or something.) his eyes are trained on it, following the string of gold as it slowly curves on childe's skin.
he crosses his arms and sets a hand on his chin. finally, he looks back at childe. ]
[It's tempting to want to demand immediate answers--but Childe's a lot more patient than most people assume. But there's not much for him to do but stare while he waits for Zhongli to gather his thoughts. And while he's good at compartmentalizing, it's difficult to stop his own mind from wandering to his... revelations, earlier in the evening.
Gods, he's stupid. No wonder Signora treats--treated him like a fool. It's so obvious, in hindsight. How could he not have realized? Even if tonight's the first time they've ever touched so gently or spoken so intimately, surely he knows himself better than this. There were a hundred opportunities to figure it out. He'd told himself it was just the novelty of finding a friend, that it was just easy to get caught up in Zhongli's easy acceptance of him, as though he were truly just another normal person.
Or maybe he had realized. Maybe he'd purposely chosen to look away as soon as he'd had even the slightest inclination that what he felt in Zhongli's presence ran deeper than the simple pleasure of friendship. That he wanted--anything, really. Because at the end of the day, his desires couldn't outweigh his mission, and that was that.
(Maybe that's why his feelings about Zhongli's deception are so much more complicated than they ever should've been. But that, at least, he'd already known.)
Zhongli speaks again, then, and it draws him out of his thoughts--but it takes a second for the words to register. And while it really doesn't take that much to put 2 and 2 together and figure out why Zhongli's asking, he can't help that his kneejerk reaction is just man blinking.gif]
[ he's disregarding childe's discomfort. this is more important than that.
whether or not he can see it, zhongli can hear his blood beating in his ears. he walks forward to meet childe at arm's length, his eyes still trained on his hip. that shape almost glows brighter with his approach. ]
There.
[ he lowers his hand to that window of skin, just short of touching it. ]
[HELLO? HELLO??? THEY'RE IN PUBLIC. WHAT'S HAPPENING--
--Oh. Yes, that sure is something glowing on him too, isn't it. That makes more sense.
The very abrupt onslaught of ?!?!?!?! emotions subsides just a little, though there's no way he's not obviously blushing, which is almost more embarrassing than everything else that's happened so far. Gods. Is it too much to ask, he wonders, to leave him with a scrap of dignity when it comes to Zhongli? He should've just pretended that damn mark was his doing and freaked out in private.
But it's too late now, and honestly, he wants answers too. So. Here they are. He hadn't backed away when Zhongli moved closer, because of course he hadn't, but now he kind of wishes he had. He hasn't been shy in years, and he's a soldier to boot! Normally, there's nothing weird about showing skin. But noooo, of course now it has to feel different.
Still, he makes a valiant attempt at pretending; he clears his throat, but otherwise doesn't say anything, just does as he's told. Fortunately, he'd left his outer coat out on his chair on the deck, and with the way he tends to tailor his clothes, he doesn't have to get too spicy, so they're probably not going to get kicked off the boat for public indecency.
Some of the awkwardness fades from his body language as he bares the mark, too, his attention drawn back to the situation at hand. Hip. Whatever.]
Huh? [MORA??? WHY. Is this a Harbinger thing. Did Yelan do this somehow. WHAT IS GOING ON.]
[ a valiant attempt, though there's no hiding that sudden flush of childe's cheeks. for that moment, before childe lifts his shirt, zhongli's focus is only on that. this was a side of childe that zhongli's never seen—at least to this degree. he's teased him before, but those instances were easily brushed away. childe seemed bashful around him, taken aback and fighting whatever thoughts occupied him. it was a small show of weakness, and only for zhongli. in the same way that childe wanted to crumble cool exterior, he wants to see this again. for much longer. and many more times after that.
his concentration is broken the instant childe lifts the lower part of his shirt to reveal his hip. ignoring the spread of soft skin and muscle (or not), zhongli's gaze traces the emerging shape with some surprise, though not for the same reason. childe already knows where mora originated from. it nearly cements his idea of what's happened, but there's one last test, if childe doesn't resist or spurn him.
whether childe's ready for it or not, zhongli lightly presses his (still gloved) fingers over the mark. there's an instant reaction, the subtle swell of geo energy rushing to meet him—the same as childe experienced before. he's silent, watching, letting all of the pieces slide and lock into place.
it's all he can do to ignore the consequences of what he's doing. right now, this is too important to be distracted by something like that.
all of those rising feelings throughout the evening. that unusual comfort when childe was by his side, their japes and stories, the letters from far beyond zhongli's reach still finding him across the sea. the steadfast belief that even if childe was reckless and always teetered at the edge of life and death, he would survive. he would always return to liyue, and zhongli would always have a seat waiting for him. everything made sense.
[Childe's not particularly sensitive--dual-wielding hydro and electro does that to a guy, not to mention the whole Abyss thing--but he braces himself anyway as Zhongli reaches out, unwilling to be caught off-guard for the umpteenth time tonight. It's almost a little disappointing when Zhongli's gloved fingertips feel just like anyone else's would against his. If a single glance can set his heart stuttering in his chest, he'd half-expected his knees to go weak at such an intimate touch, like a maiden in a fairytale. He doesn't mind being spared the mortification, but it still seems a little... anticlimactic.
At least until the mark reacts.
It's because he's desensitized that the rush of elemental sensation hits so hard. He's intimately familiar with the rush of hydro, the jolt of electro--those sensations have always run deeper than the physical, and he's trained relentlessly to master them. This feels completely different, and if it weren't so mild on his end, it really would have set him off-kilter.
His muscles jump under Zhongli's touch, though whether he's responding to Zhongli or to the mark is anyone's guess. He takes a steadying breath, keeping his grip tight on his shirt so that he doesn't do something stupid, like grab Zhongli's hand or summon a dagger. Or, worst of all, lean closer.
Zhongli's voice is so quiet, so serious. Childe can't help but match him.]
[ zhongli feels the little jolt and tightening of muscle underneath his fingertips. childe responds to him with a muttered question, and zhongli is brought again from his thoughts. he raises his gold eyes to meet childe's, and it may have been a mistake.
he hadn't taken in how close they were until now. childe's cheeks are still flushed red, and zhongli can feel his warm breath on his chin. it's intoxicating, knowing him for his mischievousness and over-confidence, addling him with the merest glance and the smallest touch. does childe even know himself yet? what kinds of signals he's been giving out? zhongli's heart is drawn towards him again, willing him to lean forward and catch childe by the back of his hair and—
zhongli really is in love. there's relief in finally calling it what it is.
talking first. his fingertips stay pressed to the mark, not willing to draw them away just yet. his eyes flicker away as he conjures up the memory of his conversation with guizhong. ]
There's an old story, lost to history now. Thousands of years ago, a young empress fell for a member of her court. He was an assassin, and he would often be disguised and dispatched to the the other regions of Teyvat. Still, she found that he loved her too, and they promised themselves to each other. Before he left for a particularly long assignment, they drew azure cranes, the woman's favorite bird, into their skin using red ink. They promised that no matter what disguise he wore or how time would change them, they would use these symbols to find each other again.
Years after the assassin was dispatched, the empress was informed of his death. Heartbroken, she was taken in by one of the other kings among her, and he made her his wife.
The woman lived this way into her old age. After her husband passed, she relinquished her empire to her eldest son and settled into retirement. One day, a young orphan wandered to her home, and he bore the mark that she and her lover had drawn long ago. The child was not the man she waited for, but she took him in regardless and raised him as her son. She died many years later, at peace now that the azure cranes found each other once again. Her adopted son became a great and well-loved king, and he made the azure crane a part of his family crest.
[ long as fuck, but aren't genshin convos like that sometimes?? and he's a grandpa who loves stories, so. anyway. ]
This story made sense of the marks that appeared on pairs of humans long ago. They would identify the person they were fated to meet. When they did so, they would play a substantial role in each other's lives, romantic or otherwise. ...You may be more familiar with the term 'soulmates.' This is very much like that.
However, there was an abysmally small number of these instances in Liyue. Many of these pairs perished in the Archon War. I expected this phenomenon to have been lost entirely.
[ zhongli clears his throat, and his eyes fall back down to childe's hip. if childe doesn't resist, his fingers slide over his hip. his thumb presses gently to the mark, feeling that resonance again. soulmates. ]
...I've had a mark like this once before. It vanished when Guizhong passed.
[ he looks at childe again, looking for any dissent or disappointment or resistance. ]
I've never heard of it appearing twice in one lifetime, but Archons are far different from mortals.
[He's always liked listening to Zhongli talk. Not just because of Zhongli's voice, though he does very much like that too--deep and rich, with a steady cadence and calm authority. It is, in fact, probably the only thing that could tear his focus away from the pinpoint sensations of Zhongli's fingertips against his skin.
(It'd be easier to concentrate if he pulled away. He doesn't.)
But he likes the way Zhongli tells stories, too. Childe had realized, long after they'd parted, that many of the things Zhongli had framed as legends and folk tales were things he'd been present to witness personally. It's been a little tricky to adjust his perceptions, especially since Zhongli's steadfastly continued to distance himself, or so he's heard. When Zhongli says things like "it's simply a story that was once popular", it's very easy to believe him.
Except--this time, Zhongli doesn't beat around the bush. He states, in no uncertain terms, that he knows what's going on. That this is something he's not only seen, but personally experienced. Suddenly, everything he'd just listened to slips sideways, and the story takes on a whole new light.
There's no disappointment on his face, no resistance. Just genuine confusion in those lightless blue eyes as he searches Zhongli's face, tilting his head slightly. But his attention stutters at the brush of Zhongli's thumb, sending his thoughts scattering like startled crystalflies.
It makes it easy for a thoughtless reply to slip out, unintentional.]
That can't be right.
[...
Hastily, he lifts a free hand, but he drops it again when he realizes there's not really enough space for it between them. (And that's, hm. Yeah. Let's not focus on that.)]
Wait, I mean--I don't think you're lying. It's just, that doesn't make any sense.
[He's never known Zhongli to be mistaken about important before (save, perhaps, his choice of accomplices). But maybe there's a first time for everything? Granted, Childe's own confidence is totally unfounded, but what Zhongli's saying is... impossible, surely.]
[ that's not a reaction he expected. the shock and confusion, yes, but not being told that his explanation hadn't made sense to him. he thought he was fairly clear. (stupid.)
for now, this takes precedent over the gay panic. ]
Which part of it didn't seem to make sense? I can explain it to you again in simpler terms.
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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.
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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.
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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.]
no subject
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.
1/2
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--
I lied 2/3
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--]
3/3
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.)]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
in the little window of skin where his shirt and jacket unbutton and part open, just above his waistband, zhongli catches sight of a faint glimmer of gold. (why is childe still wearing his suit like this? maybe he was hoping a fight onboard or something.) his eyes are trained on it, following the string of gold as it slowly curves on childe's skin.
he crosses his arms and sets a hand on his chin. finally, he looks back at childe. ]
Lift your shirt for a moment.
[ dead serious. ]
no subject
Gods, he's stupid. No wonder Signora treats--treated him like a fool. It's so obvious, in hindsight. How could he not have realized? Even if tonight's the first time they've ever touched so gently or spoken so intimately, surely he knows himself better than this. There were a hundred opportunities to figure it out. He'd told himself it was just the novelty of finding a friend, that it was just easy to get caught up in Zhongli's easy acceptance of him, as though he were truly just another normal person.
Or maybe he had realized. Maybe he'd purposely chosen to look away as soon as he'd had even the slightest inclination that what he felt in Zhongli's presence ran deeper than the simple pleasure of friendship. That he wanted--anything, really. Because at the end of the day, his desires couldn't outweigh his mission, and that was that.
(Maybe that's why his feelings about Zhongli's deception are so much more complicated than they ever should've been. But that, at least, he'd already known.)
Zhongli speaks again, then, and it draws him out of his thoughts--but it takes a second for the words to register. And while it really doesn't take that much to put 2 and 2 together and figure out why Zhongli's asking, he can't help that his kneejerk reaction is just man blinking.gif]
Sorry?
no subject
whether or not he can see it, zhongli can hear his blood beating in his ears. he walks forward to meet childe at arm's length, his eyes still trained on his hip. that shape almost glows brighter with his approach. ]
There.
[ he lowers his hand to that window of skin, just short of touching it. ]
I see something there. Show it to me.
no subject
--Oh. Yes, that sure is something glowing on him too, isn't it. That makes more sense.
The very abrupt onslaught of ?!?!?!?! emotions subsides just a little, though there's no way he's not obviously blushing, which is almost more embarrassing than everything else that's happened so far. Gods. Is it too much to ask, he wonders, to leave him with a scrap of dignity when it comes to Zhongli? He should've just pretended that damn mark was his doing and freaked out in private.
But it's too late now, and honestly, he wants answers too. So. Here they are. He hadn't backed away when Zhongli moved closer, because of course he hadn't, but now he kind of wishes he had. He hasn't been shy in years, and he's a soldier to boot! Normally, there's nothing weird about showing skin. But noooo, of course now it has to feel different.
Still, he makes a valiant attempt at pretending; he clears his throat, but otherwise doesn't say anything, just does as he's told. Fortunately, he'd left his outer coat out on his chair on the deck, and with the way he tends to tailor his clothes, he doesn't have to get too spicy, so they're probably not going to get kicked off the boat for public indecency.
Some of the awkwardness fades from his body language as he bares the mark, too, his attention drawn back to the situation at hand. Hip. Whatever.]
Huh? [MORA??? WHY. Is this a Harbinger thing. Did Yelan do this somehow. WHAT IS GOING ON.]
no subject
his concentration is broken the instant childe lifts the lower part of his shirt to reveal his hip. ignoring the spread of soft skin and muscle (or not), zhongli's gaze traces the emerging shape with some surprise, though not for the same reason. childe already knows where mora originated from. it nearly cements his idea of what's happened, but there's one last test, if childe doesn't resist or spurn him.
whether childe's ready for it or not, zhongli lightly presses his (still gloved) fingers over the mark. there's an instant reaction, the subtle swell of geo energy rushing to meet him—the same as childe experienced before. he's silent, watching, letting all of the pieces slide and lock into place.
it's all he can do to ignore the consequences of what he's doing. right now, this is too important to be distracted by something like that.
all of those rising feelings throughout the evening. that unusual comfort when childe was by his side, their japes and stories, the letters from far beyond zhongli's reach still finding him across the sea. the steadfast belief that even if childe was reckless and always teetered at the edge of life and death, he would survive. he would always return to liyue, and zhongli would always have a seat waiting for him. everything made sense.
he swallows thickly. quietly: ]
It's as I thought.
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At least until the mark reacts.
It's because he's desensitized that the rush of elemental sensation hits so hard. He's intimately familiar with the rush of hydro, the jolt of electro--those sensations have always run deeper than the physical, and he's trained relentlessly to master them. This feels completely different, and if it weren't so mild on his end, it really would have set him off-kilter.
His muscles jump under Zhongli's touch, though whether he's responding to Zhongli or to the mark is anyone's guess. He takes a steadying breath, keeping his grip tight on his shirt so that he doesn't do something stupid, like grab Zhongli's hand or summon a dagger. Or, worst of all, lean closer.
Zhongli's voice is so quiet, so serious. Childe can't help but match him.]
What is?
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he hadn't taken in how close they were until now. childe's cheeks are still flushed red, and zhongli can feel his warm breath on his chin. it's intoxicating, knowing him for his mischievousness and over-confidence, addling him with the merest glance and the smallest touch. does childe even know himself yet? what kinds of signals he's been giving out? zhongli's heart is drawn towards him again, willing him to lean forward and catch childe by the back of his hair and—
zhongli really is in love. there's relief in finally calling it what it is.
talking first. his fingertips stay pressed to the mark, not willing to draw them away just yet. his eyes flicker away as he conjures up the memory of his conversation with guizhong. ]
There's an old story, lost to history now. Thousands of years ago, a young empress fell for a member of her court. He was an assassin, and he would often be disguised and dispatched to the the other regions of Teyvat. Still, she found that he loved her too, and they promised themselves to each other. Before he left for a particularly long assignment, they drew azure cranes, the woman's favorite bird, into their skin using red ink. They promised that no matter what disguise he wore or how time would change them, they would use these symbols to find each other again.
Years after the assassin was dispatched, the empress was informed of his death. Heartbroken, she was taken in by one of the other kings among her, and he made her his wife.
The woman lived this way into her old age. After her husband passed, she relinquished her empire to her eldest son and settled into retirement. One day, a young orphan wandered to her home, and he bore the mark that she and her lover had drawn long ago. The child was not the man she waited for, but she took him in regardless and raised him as her son. She died many years later, at peace now that the azure cranes found each other once again. Her adopted son became a great and well-loved king, and he made the azure crane a part of his family crest.
[ long as fuck, but aren't genshin convos like that sometimes?? and he's a grandpa who loves stories, so. anyway. ]
This story made sense of the marks that appeared on pairs of humans long ago. They would identify the person they were fated to meet. When they did so, they would play a substantial role in each other's lives, romantic or otherwise. ...You may be more familiar with the term 'soulmates.' This is very much like that.
However, there was an abysmally small number of these instances in Liyue. Many of these pairs perished in the Archon War. I expected this phenomenon to have been lost entirely.
[ zhongli clears his throat, and his eyes fall back down to childe's hip. if childe doesn't resist, his fingers slide over his hip. his thumb presses gently to the mark, feeling that resonance again. soulmates. ]
...I've had a mark like this once before. It vanished when Guizhong passed.
[ he looks at childe again, looking for any dissent or disappointment or resistance. ]
I've never heard of it appearing twice in one lifetime, but Archons are far different from mortals.
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(It'd be easier to concentrate if he pulled away. He doesn't.)
But he likes the way Zhongli tells stories, too. Childe had realized, long after they'd parted, that many of the things Zhongli had framed as legends and folk tales were things he'd been present to witness personally. It's been a little tricky to adjust his perceptions, especially since Zhongli's steadfastly continued to distance himself, or so he's heard. When Zhongli says things like "it's simply a story that was once popular", it's very easy to believe him.
Except--this time, Zhongli doesn't beat around the bush. He states, in no uncertain terms, that he knows what's going on. That this is something he's not only seen, but personally experienced. Suddenly, everything he'd just listened to slips sideways, and the story takes on a whole new light.
There's no disappointment on his face, no resistance. Just genuine confusion in those lightless blue eyes as he searches Zhongli's face, tilting his head slightly. But his attention stutters at the brush of Zhongli's thumb, sending his thoughts scattering like startled crystalflies.
It makes it easy for a thoughtless reply to slip out, unintentional.]
That can't be right.
[...
Hastily, he lifts a free hand, but he drops it again when he realizes there's not really enough space for it between them. (And that's, hm. Yeah. Let's not focus on that.)]
Wait, I mean--I don't think you're lying. It's just, that doesn't make any sense.
[He's never known Zhongli to be mistaken about important before (save, perhaps, his choice of accomplices). But maybe there's a first time for everything? Granted, Childe's own confidence is totally unfounded, but what Zhongli's saying is... impossible, surely.]
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for now, this takes precedent over the gay panic. ]
Which part of it didn't seem to make sense? I can explain it to you again in simpler terms.
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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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1/2
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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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