[ as a snezhnayan native, childe was undoubtedly regretting visiting liyue harbor on one of the hottest days of the year.
on this day, the crux glided seamlessly into port, floating on the swirling bed of steam rising from the waves. the sky was cloudless and parched, the blue seeming more infinitesimal in the heat. the sun sat high in the air—the blazing, glaring, white-gold eye of an unforgiving god.
beidou slapped childe on the back as he crossed the deck to the docks. (she disregarded the fact that childe probably felt a little weaker under damp, wet heat.) she told him good luck out there and turned back to her crew, ponytail whipping behind her.
the next trip by boat out of the harbor wouldn't be leaving for four more days. it was too late to change course or find another ship to carry him to fontaine. renting a sailboat also wasn't a sustainable option.
beyond anyone's understanding, zhongli was still in his loungewear as he waited for childe from the docks. or part of it, anyway. he'd shed his overcoats, leaving him in his grey button-up shirt, his tie, his gloves, his slacks and shoes. his face shone with sweat and his hair stuck to his temples. when childe came within earshot, he said, If you'd announced your arrival to me earlier, I might have been able to warn you.
they're here now, sitting in a private room at yanshang tea house. it offers some cool respite from the heat; it's better than eating outdoors. the two are seated at the table at the center of the room, a spread of cold foods laid in front of them. their shoes are crowded by the door; zhongli has since rolled up his sleeves and occasionally dabs the sweat from his forehead with a napkin. sweat gathers in dark stains behind his neck, in the middle of his back, near his collarbone and the crease where his shirt meets his trousers. he's also inexplicably drinking hot tea.
they're conversing about the events in inazuma, but zhongli can't help the way his eyes dip towards the front of childe's shirt. he's been awkwardly shifting since they sat down. ]
Are you not uncomfortable, wearing that?
[ the harness. he can see the sweat clearly outlining it. ]
[Dearest sister, Childe had written once, long before he'd known the true nature of his mission. I've been away for so long, I've almost forgotten the cold of our home...
"Almost" had been the key word, apparently. He'd discovered as much when he'd been summoned back to his motherland, ice settling back into his bones with comfortable familiarity. But that, too, had been fleeting; the Tsaritsa does not take the loss of her chosen lightly, and the chill of her grief had clung to him even as he'd set sail back to Inazuma once more. It had made his heart ache for her, but it had also been a deadly reminder: they could not fail their ultimate mission. She would not survive it, and neither would anyone else.
There was, of course, nothing to be found--the intel from their spies at the Irodori festival had been all there was to know. With Dottore in charge of Sumeru for the time being, there was little to do but wait for their quarry to resurface; in the meantime, Childe had his own business to attend to, nothing so pressing that he couldn't take the long way to his next destination.
Quite simply, he misses Liyue. He's traveled all over the world, but there's something undeniably special about the harbor. Putting the city in danger had been an acceptable risk, and it's a decision he'd make again, if needed--but he's glad there was no true risk of decimation, even if he'd sacrificed the freedom to exist without scrutiny and hatred in pursuit of his goal.
Ah, well. The warm kindness had been nice while it lasted.
But he's Fatui, so the shift in attitude is nothing new. And more importantly, it doesn't stop Beidou from letting him catch a ride in exchange for helping out around the ship. It means he gets his scenic detour--and it means he pens a letter on a whim, one that starts with Dearest xiansheng.
(He misses Zhongli too. Zhongli is Liyue. But those are sentiments that will never be put to paper.)]
[It's a great plan. A fun surprise visit--he can do some shopping for his family, maybe pester Zhongli into a spar, perhaps take a day trip to Dragonspine. He won't be able to stay long, but it'll be a refreshing sort of familiarity before he heads off to Fontaine. Homecoming, his heart might've whispered, had he not chosen to ignore it.
He had not, however, accounted for the weather.
Forgetting the cold of his home--in truth, that was impossible. No Snezhnayan went anywhere without the memory of ice and snow close to their hearts. But forgetting the sticky, unbearable weight of a Liyuen heat wave? That, apparently, was extremely possible.
Childe isn't one for layers; stripping off his jacket and shoving up his sleeves is the best he can do, and it brings him no relief. It's an unpleasant surprise to find that the leather of his weapons harness doesn't fare well in the sun either; the metal, too, feels like it's bypassed his shirt entirely to burn his skin. The ocean breeze does nothing to combat the direct, relentless summer sun; Childe had wilted out at sea so badly, Beidou had taken pity on him and shooed him off to the shade until they arrived at the port.
By then, he'd decided he does not, in fact, need a vacation in Liyue.
Seeing Zhongli again is blessedly distracting--his smile is genuine, and he finds enough energy to wave as he hops off the ship, despite the fact that he knows he must look a little pathetic. He gratefully follows Zhongli to the teahouse, and spends a good 10 minutes simply sprawled in his chair, relishing the shade and regaining the will to live.
It's a shame, really. He wants very badly appreciate seeing Zhongli like this--even now, his eyes can't help straying to Zhongli's arms, like he can't quite believe they're actually exposed. The sight of him sweaty and ever-so-slightly disheveled is something he'll store away for another time.
For now, though, Childe focuses on restricting his own movements, doing his best to minimize the damage to his body. The question makes him grimace--it's not hard to know what Zhongli's looking at, and he looks down, too, rubbing a finger along the edge of the harness.]
In this weather, wearing anything at all is uncomfortable. [Well, at least his humor is still good.] I'm not sure I can get this off normally anymore, though. I'll probably have to get one of my agents to cut it off later... it's a shame, too. This leather was from my hometown.
[ it isn't the first time that he's seen childe without his jacket on. this was the first major heatwave in liyue this year, at a time when childe doesn't usually come to visit, but there have been hot nights before, and when the two of them indulge too deeply in their drink, childe slides off his jacket and convinces zhongli to do the same with his overcoat.
each time, zhongli's eyes will precariously wander to the straps over his chest and shoulders, wondering what it could possibly be used for, where the metal clasps were that childe would unbuckle when he took it off.... and let's not forget the window of childe's stomach drawn even more open than usual, free to peel further open as it pleases. needless to say, zhongli's attention is sometimes more divided than usual when this happens, especially when his head is buzzing pleasantly with drink.
that's not happening right now, but his eye follows childe's gloved finger sliding along the belt's edge. he sets his cup down blindly, his eyes slipping to the leather straps, the near-imperceptible and swirling designs native to snezhnaya. his eyes soften slightly, and he looks again at those metal buckles that he's mapped out so well already. ]
It would be a shame. Perhaps I can help.
[ he repeats it, and then he offers out his hand, gestured towards the straps. ]
[Weirdly enough, Childe just so happens to choke on his tea right after Zhongli says those words. Quickly, he covers his mouth with the back of his hand and turns his face away as he coughs. Huh. Must've swallowed too fast or something.
When he turns back, his face is ever-so-slightly flushed. Man, what uncomfortable weather.]
Sorry, uh. I mean, if you want to, but it's not really that important. [He tries to shrug, but it backfires, and he winces slightly at his own movement.] I can always order a new one.
[ uh, ok! zhongli's just staring, turning towards childe with his hands covering, trying to figure out if he should pat him on the back or something. when childe turns back to him, zhongli is looking him over concernedly, but he lowers his hands again. that flushed look isn't all that weird after someone just hacked up some of their tea.
and even worse, that coughing probably chafed his shoulders. zhongli's shoulders slack, eyeing those rounded metal squares and buckles holding the thing together. he closes his eyes resolutely and pushes on the table to stand up. ]
There's no need, although I should be able to repair it for you later, unless you decide to have it done in Snezhnaya.
[ cryptic, but it makes perfect sense to zhongli. he settles on his knees behind childe—a little close for comfort, leaning in to get a better look. he's ignoring the rabbiting pace of his own heart. this isn't about their proximity, or the sweat gathered on childe's shirt and neck, or the way childe's muscle feels tight under his fingertips as he slips them beneath one edge of the belt, where the straps cross between chest and shoulder.
no. this is about childe's comfort. he swallows. ]
It must chafe quite badly. You should loosen it. ...I apologize if this hurts you.
[It is a little cryptic, though Childe doesn't read much into it, really. Either Zhongli's just going to cut it off right now, he assumes, or he's got some kind of trick to loosen it easily--probably some piece of leatherworking trivia he picked up a few hundred years ago or something. Maybe Zhongli will tell him a story about it or something; it'd be nice, he thinks, to take his mind off of the heat and discomfort.
And the. Y'know. Awkwardness that comes from being touched by someone you may or may not like more than you should.
But Childe is good at compartmentalizing, so he valiantly pushes aside any untoward thoughts as he shifts to make sure Zhongli has room behind him. His senses sharpen, as they always do, when his companion moves out of his line of sight--but Zhongli wouldn't need stealth even if he did have a reason to attack him, so after a moment he forces himself to try and relax.
Even so, he remains acutely aware of Zhongli's proximity. It's only his years of training and discipline that stop him from jumping when he feels Zhongli's fingers. He resolutely holds still, trying not to interfere with... whatever it is Zhongli's doing.]
Haha, don't worry about me, xiansheng. This is nothing.
[ zhongli still notes the tensing of shoulders, the quick straightening of childe's neck as he comes behind him. aside from the view of childe's back, shirt mottled with sweat, sticking to the shape of bone and toned muscle, there's the way his orange hair tapers in a line down the back of his neck, long hairs dissolving into one's thin and fine then disappearing before it reaches his collar.
there is an inclination to hook his finger over the back of his collar, drag it down, and taste the salt on the back of his neck.
zhongli stifles it. he's used to quelling these thoughts by now. it was alarming at first, to lose focus for a brief instant. he's trained himself to quickly pull back to the present.
more fingers draw beneath the ring of metal that keeps a strap around his shoulder. childe's back is warm and damp through his shirt. zhongli doesn't know if he should be grateful for the fact that he removed his gloves. ]
This may feel strange.
[ childe might be aware of how zhongli leans forward, forehead and nose grazing his shoulder. there's a warm exhale against his back and then a small and sudden ringing, a sharp snipping of metal. the straps immediately come loose, held by zhongli's hands to keep from snapping against childe's skin. then he lets them go.
[The warning has his brow furrowing, but before he can ask what Zhongli means, he feels movement behind him. Abruptly, Zhongli is even closer than he was a moment ago, and Childe feels his breath so clearly that it might as well have been against his skin directly. It's so unexpected that it makes him shiver before he can stop himself; hopefully Zhongli won't notice, he thinks, but he digs his nails into his palm and holds as still as he possibly can to prevent it from happening again. He's taken his gloves off in the heat, too.
He probably could figure out what just happened if he thought about it. But he's distracted and overheated, so he doesn't try. Instead, he can't help twisting a little, looking over his shoulder as if he might be able to see what Zhongli's doing for himself.
He can't, of course. What he does see is Zhongli's face much closer than he'd expected--a little silly, given that he'd felt it just moments ago, but it's somehow very different to see proof of it. Quickly, he looks forward again. Dimly, he registers the loosening of the strap--relief, paired with the slight sting of exposure, given how badly it had rubbed his skin raw--but he holds back from checking the damage for now.]
How'd you get it? [It sounds better than what are you doing, though probably not by much given how antsy he is.]
[ zhongli's not missing any of it. tightening your hands means tightening your arms, your shoulders, your neck—all things zhongli is keenly aware of at the moment when it comes to childe. that shiver courses lightly against zhongli's hands.
was it nerves? it's not like childe to be afraid, and there's no chance of a draft. it could have been the ringing of the metal. zhongli can find several ways of reasoning it, but nothing explains the slight turn of childe's chin towards him before it quickly darts away. nothing but one possible thing, anyway.
zhongli is quiet a moment after childe's question, gold eyes settled on the back of his hair, the curve of childe's ear. maybe he should test it.
he places one hand on childe's shoulder, and the other curves around his arm to show him the rounded square of metal, clipped open at one of its sides. ]
I'm able to manipulate ore when needed. However, the heat makes my hands slip too easily, and my fingers often ache afterwards.
[ he's carefully studying what he can see of childe's profile. ]
To simply cut metal, biting down works in a pinch.
[He glances down at what Zhongli's showing him, but in truth, he isn't really looking. His attention, instead, is on the warmth of Zhongli's palm through his shirt, on the way Zhongli's arm brushes against his when he leans closer.
Have they ever been this close before? Surely they have, with how often they've strolled through the city together or sat beside each other, sharing drinks and conversation. But those were fleeting instances, nothing that truly crossed any boundaries. This, though--this feels... different, even though it really shouldn't. Zhongli's just helping him out, after all. It must be the heat, then. It's getting to his head, melting away his common sense. In a few days, he'll probably look back on this and realize how ridiculous he's being.
He nods to show he's listening, even though he kind of isn't. Not doing so would be rude.
Right, yeah. Biting. Ore. Makes sense or whatever.]
That's-- [STOP. LISTEN. HE'S CATCHING UP.] --I mean, you realize humans can't do that, right? Should I be worried about you biting forks in half when you travel?
[He's not actually worried about that. (Mostly. Archons can be really fucking weird sometimes.) But it distracts him from his actual thoughts, such as do you have normal human teeth or have you been casually hiding fangs this whole time or what and hey I've got a great idea on how to find that out, neither of which he's actually going to say. Obviously.
He does, however, glance over his shoulder again, his gaze darting to Zhongli's mouth, then away, then back again, as if he doesn't dare to linger too long. Truly, he's too curious for his own good.]
ah, so he's curious. childe tries again to look over his shoulder, blue eyes glancing sidelong at his mouth but ultimately missing zhongli's golden gaze.
there's something inexplicably amusing about this.
zhongli's hand falls from childe's shoulder, hot where his palm had pressed to his skin. they are certainly closer than they've been before, at least with respect to zhongli. of the two of them, he's the least likely to outwardly indulge in something that could be taken as affectionate.
did he feel affectionate towards childe? yes. was he also enticed by him? that's a secret. (yes.) ]
I bring a pair of chopsticks when I travel. And no, I do not break my utensils. This is a power bestowed upon me as the Geo archon. You are the first to witness it after a few hundred years.
[ then he remembers. there's an idea. ]
You seem curious. ...There is a buckle at the front of your chest that will need to be removed. I can show you my teeth then.
[Ah. Childe rolls his eyes, and something in his demeanor seems to shift, like he's come to a conclusion. He turns around again, and he seems a little more relaxed--or maybe he's just wilting under the humidity again. The teahouse is still pretty warm, after all.]
Alright, alright, make fun of me all you like.
[Because he's an idiot, he thinks Zhongli is teasing him... and hey, he's not totally wrong, even if he's missed the mark. Still, he idly lifts a hand to the buckle in question, rubbing at it in contemplation.]
[He shrugs, then regrets it immediately when the motion irritates his skin again. He drops his hand from the clasp, carefully wiping sweat from his brow.]
Come on, xiansheng, you're obviously teasing me. [He doesn't sound fussed about it, though, just very sure that he's right.] You can't hide your sense of humor from me, you know. I see right through that serious persona.
[He's partially joking, but that's his answer. "For what reason?" "Because you think it's funny", essentially.]
[Well... no, not really, but Zhongli's not laughing like he'd expected, so now he's not so sure. He blinks a few times, but he doesn't turn to look at Zhongli again--doesn't dare, not when Zhongli's still so very close.]
[ there it is. zhongli pauses, watching the profile of childe's face, eyes hidden by his hair. then he scoots back by an inch or two. he can't risk losing too much proximity. this might be less amusing otherwise. ]
The smart thing to do, of course, would be to laugh it off. To break this odd atmosphere that's settling over them like the humidity has, and move away under the pretense of grabbing food or a drink. Through sheer force of will, he's resisted imagining what Zhongli's described; if Zhongli's being serious, and he truly does exactly what he'd--what he'd said, then he won't be able to avoid it. He doesn't need to embarrass himself any further than he already has, and he can only blame the heat for so much.
But if he were that wise, he probably wouldn't have impulsively hopped a ship to Liyue in the first place. And if he doesn't turn around--if he retreats, in other words--then the curiosity will eat him alive. It's not a challenge, but it kind of feels like one, and Childe's incapable of resisting those.
He's still so alert, so aware of Zhongli's presence. The back of his neck prickles with something he can't put a name to.
Zhongli could still be bluffing, he reminds himself. If even Childe can tell how clearly awkward he must seem right now, it must be blatantly obvious to Zhongli, too. He can't discount the possibility of extended teasing.
He hesitates for long enough that it might seem like he hadn't heard Zhongli at all--but eventually, he turns around. He moves slowly, in part because he's still trying not to chafe his skin any worse than he already has, watching Zhongli closely as he settles back in place. His gaze is searching, very clearly trying to figure out what game they're playing so that he can brace himself against Zhongli's next move.]
[ the tension settles like a fog after zhongli speaks—and it could be blamed on the humidity, but also, how could it be? it almost oppressively bears on the chest and lungs and heart, apparent in childe's defeaning silence, how he never moves a muscle in those infinitesimal moments between when he receives those words and when he finally turns around.
childe thinks that he doesn't know what that neck-prickling feeling is. zhongli could take a guess. in fact, he may not believe that childe doesn't recognize it at all.
neither of them speak, just searching one another, blue to amber-gold. childe looks almost apprehensive; zhongli looks with intent, calm and silent, waiting to see what childe might do now that they're facing each other.
up until now—and not just during this stifling heat, but from the beginning of their time together—they were always along the precipice of whatever this was. there were small suggestions of it, quips and looks and jokes-haha-but-what-ifs. zhongli is about to pull them into another dance that he's fashioned for them on his own, for nothing but the fun of it.
after that long moment of staring, zhongli's mouth curves into a thin smile. ]
You seem nervous. Or perhaps it's still too warm.
[ his gaze falls to the strap around childe's middle, the divot where his shirt has been unclasped, revealing the plane of skin underneath. zhongli watches a trail of sweat follow the others down childe's bare neck and stomach.
not for too long, though. if childe lets him, he reaches and slips his fingers underneath the straps. he gently pulls the buckle away from his chest, pinched between his fingers. he leans down slowly, murmuring. ]
[It's always so dangerous, meeting Zhongli's gaze. His eyes are so bright, so intense, so easy to get lost in if you're not careful. A clear sign that there's more to him than he lets on. In hindsight, Childe doesn't know how he ever assumed Zhongli was anything less than a god.
Childe's looked at him enough that he really should be used to it. And really, he kind of is--by now, he can mostly stop himself from staring like every other lovestruck fool in the harbor. But now and then, Zhongli still finds ways to hold him spellbound. When he smiles just so, or turns his face towards the sunset, or says things like I'm glad you're here with devastating sincerity.
He'd known, he'd known this would be one of those moments. But knowing doesn't help, and he finds himself caught anyway.
Gods, he's an idiot. He shouldn't have turned around.
At least Zhongli saw him at the pier, straight off of the ship. He knows, then, that the pink of Childe's skin must come from his time in the sun. That surely, if he looks more flushed now than he did earlier, it's just because they've moved out of direct sunlight. Not for... any other reasons.]
I'm not nervous. [He says, nervously--but it's the truth to the letter, if not in spirit. If Zhongli's teasing him, then Childe will complain to hide his embarrassment, but that's a harmless enough result that he has no reason to be nervous about it. If Zhongli's not teasing...
...Well. He doesn't actually know what he'll do then. But that's why it's only a half-truth.
His pulse betrays him anyway, rabbit-fast and impossible to hide when Zhongli's fingers are so close to his heart. "Still too warm"? Hah. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised to hear the ice on Dragonspine has melted away.
Keep still, Zhongli says, but it's an unnecessary warning. Childe isn't sure he could move even if he wanted to.]
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childe's ecchi belt thread
on this day, the crux glided seamlessly into port, floating on the swirling bed of steam rising from the waves. the sky was cloudless and parched, the blue seeming more infinitesimal in the heat. the sun sat high in the air—the blazing, glaring, white-gold eye of an unforgiving god.
beidou slapped childe on the back as he crossed the deck to the docks. (she disregarded the fact that childe probably felt a little weaker under damp, wet heat.) she told him good luck out there and turned back to her crew, ponytail whipping behind her.
the next trip by boat out of the harbor wouldn't be leaving for four more days. it was too late to change course or find another ship to carry him to fontaine. renting a sailboat also wasn't a sustainable option.
beyond anyone's understanding, zhongli was still in his loungewear as he waited for childe from the docks. or part of it, anyway. he'd shed his overcoats, leaving him in his grey button-up shirt, his tie, his gloves, his slacks and shoes. his face shone with sweat and his hair stuck to his temples. when childe came within earshot, he said, If you'd announced your arrival to me earlier, I might have been able to warn you.
they're here now, sitting in a private room at yanshang tea house. it offers some cool respite from the heat; it's better than eating outdoors. the two are seated at the table at the center of the room, a spread of cold foods laid in front of them. their shoes are crowded by the door; zhongli has since rolled up his sleeves and occasionally dabs the sweat from his forehead with a napkin. sweat gathers in dark stains behind his neck, in the middle of his back, near his collarbone and the crease where his shirt meets his trousers. he's also inexplicably drinking hot tea.
they're conversing about the events in inazuma, but zhongli can't help the way his eyes dip towards the front of childe's shirt. he's been awkwardly shifting since they sat down. ]
Are you not uncomfortable, wearing that?
[ the harness. he can see the sweat clearly outlining it. ]
the pining adds Flavor 1/2
"Almost" had been the key word, apparently. He'd discovered as much when he'd been summoned back to his motherland, ice settling back into his bones with comfortable familiarity. But that, too, had been fleeting; the Tsaritsa does not take the loss of her chosen lightly, and the chill of her grief had clung to him even as he'd set sail back to Inazuma once more. It had made his heart ache for her, but it had also been a deadly reminder: they could not fail their ultimate mission. She would not survive it, and neither would anyone else.
There was, of course, nothing to be found--the intel from their spies at the Irodori festival had been all there was to know. With Dottore in charge of Sumeru for the time being, there was little to do but wait for their quarry to resurface; in the meantime, Childe had his own business to attend to, nothing so pressing that he couldn't take the long way to his next destination.
Quite simply, he misses Liyue. He's traveled all over the world, but there's something undeniably special about the harbor. Putting the city in danger had been an acceptable risk, and it's a decision he'd make again, if needed--but he's glad there was no true risk of decimation, even if he'd sacrificed the freedom to exist without scrutiny and hatred in pursuit of his goal.
Ah, well. The warm kindness had been nice while it lasted.
But he's Fatui, so the shift in attitude is nothing new. And more importantly, it doesn't stop Beidou from letting him catch a ride in exchange for helping out around the ship. It means he gets his scenic detour--and it means he pens a letter on a whim, one that starts with Dearest xiansheng.
(He misses Zhongli too. Zhongli is Liyue. But those are sentiments that will never be put to paper.)]
2/2
He had not, however, accounted for the weather.
Forgetting the cold of his home--in truth, that was impossible. No Snezhnayan went anywhere without the memory of ice and snow close to their hearts. But forgetting the sticky, unbearable weight of a Liyuen heat wave? That, apparently, was extremely possible.
Childe isn't one for layers; stripping off his jacket and shoving up his sleeves is the best he can do, and it brings him no relief. It's an unpleasant surprise to find that the leather of his weapons harness doesn't fare well in the sun either; the metal, too, feels like it's bypassed his shirt entirely to burn his skin. The ocean breeze does nothing to combat the direct, relentless summer sun; Childe had wilted out at sea so badly, Beidou had taken pity on him and shooed him off to the shade until they arrived at the port.
By then, he'd decided he does not, in fact, need a vacation in Liyue.
Seeing Zhongli again is blessedly distracting--his smile is genuine, and he finds enough energy to wave as he hops off the ship, despite the fact that he knows he must look a little pathetic. He gratefully follows Zhongli to the teahouse, and spends a good 10 minutes simply sprawled in his chair, relishing the shade and regaining the will to live.
It's a shame, really. He wants very badly appreciate seeing Zhongli like this--even now, his eyes can't help straying to Zhongli's arms, like he can't quite believe they're actually exposed. The sight of him sweaty and ever-so-slightly disheveled is something he'll store away for another time.
For now, though, Childe focuses on restricting his own movements, doing his best to minimize the damage to his body. The question makes him grimace--it's not hard to know what Zhongli's looking at, and he looks down, too, rubbing a finger along the edge of the harness.]
In this weather, wearing anything at all is uncomfortable. [Well, at least his humor is still good.] I'm not sure I can get this off normally anymore, though. I'll probably have to get one of my agents to cut it off later... it's a shame, too. This leather was from my hometown.
no subject
each time, zhongli's eyes will precariously wander to the straps over his chest and shoulders, wondering what it could possibly be used for, where the metal clasps were that childe would unbuckle when he took it off.... and let's not forget the window of childe's stomach drawn even more open than usual, free to peel further open as it pleases. needless to say, zhongli's attention is sometimes more divided than usual when this happens, especially when his head is buzzing pleasantly with drink.
that's not happening right now, but his eye follows childe's gloved finger sliding along the belt's edge. he sets his cup down blindly, his eyes slipping to the leather straps, the near-imperceptible and swirling designs native to snezhnaya. his eyes soften slightly, and he looks again at those metal buckles that he's mapped out so well already. ]
It would be a shame. Perhaps I can help.
[ he repeats it, and then he offers out his hand, gestured towards the straps. ]
May I?
no subject
When he turns back, his face is ever-so-slightly flushed. Man, what uncomfortable weather.]
Sorry, uh. I mean, if you want to, but it's not really that important. [He tries to shrug, but it backfires, and he winces slightly at his own movement.] I can always order a new one.
no subject
and even worse, that coughing probably chafed his shoulders. zhongli's shoulders slack, eyeing those rounded metal squares and buckles holding the thing together. he closes his eyes resolutely and pushes on the table to stand up. ]
There's no need, although I should be able to repair it for you later, unless you decide to have it done in Snezhnaya.
[ cryptic, but it makes perfect sense to zhongli. he settles on his knees behind childe—a little close for comfort, leaning in to get a better look. he's ignoring the rabbiting pace of his own heart. this isn't about their proximity, or the sweat gathered on childe's shirt and neck, or the way childe's muscle feels tight under his fingertips as he slips them beneath one edge of the belt, where the straps cross between chest and shoulder.
no. this is about childe's comfort. he swallows. ]
It must chafe quite badly. You should loosen it. ...I apologize if this hurts you.
no subject
And the. Y'know. Awkwardness that comes from being touched by someone you may or may not like more than you should.
But Childe is good at compartmentalizing, so he valiantly pushes aside any untoward thoughts as he shifts to make sure Zhongli has room behind him. His senses sharpen, as they always do, when his companion moves out of his line of sight--but Zhongli wouldn't need stealth even if he did have a reason to attack him, so after a moment he forces himself to try and relax.
Even so, he remains acutely aware of Zhongli's proximity. It's only his years of training and discipline that stop him from jumping when he feels Zhongli's fingers. He resolutely holds still, trying not to interfere with... whatever it is Zhongli's doing.]
Haha, don't worry about me, xiansheng. This is nothing.
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there is an inclination to hook his finger over the back of his collar, drag it down, and taste the salt on the back of his neck.
zhongli stifles it. he's used to quelling these thoughts by now. it was alarming at first, to lose focus for a brief instant. he's trained himself to quickly pull back to the present.
more fingers draw beneath the ring of metal that keeps a strap around his shoulder. childe's back is warm and damp through his shirt. zhongli doesn't know if he should be grateful for the fact that he removed his gloves. ]
This may feel strange.
[ childe might be aware of how zhongli leans forward, forehead and nose grazing his shoulder. there's a warm exhale against his back and then a small and sudden ringing, a sharp snipping of metal. the straps immediately come loose, held by zhongli's hands to keep from snapping against childe's skin. then he lets them go.
childe can probably guess what just happened. ]
There. That's the first.
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He probably could figure out what just happened if he thought about it. But he's distracted and overheated, so he doesn't try. Instead, he can't help twisting a little, looking over his shoulder as if he might be able to see what Zhongli's doing for himself.
He can't, of course. What he does see is Zhongli's face much closer than he'd expected--a little silly, given that he'd felt it just moments ago, but it's somehow very different to see proof of it. Quickly, he looks forward again. Dimly, he registers the loosening of the strap--relief, paired with the slight sting of exposure, given how badly it had rubbed his skin raw--but he holds back from checking the damage for now.]
How'd you get it? [It sounds better than what are you doing, though probably not by much given how antsy he is.]
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was it nerves? it's not like childe to be afraid, and there's no chance of a draft. it could have been the ringing of the metal. zhongli can find several ways of reasoning it, but nothing explains the slight turn of childe's chin towards him before it quickly darts away. nothing but one possible thing, anyway.
zhongli is quiet a moment after childe's question, gold eyes settled on the back of his hair, the curve of childe's ear. maybe he should test it.
he places one hand on childe's shoulder, and the other curves around his arm to show him the rounded square of metal, clipped open at one of its sides. ]
I'm able to manipulate ore when needed. However, the heat makes my hands slip too easily, and my fingers often ache afterwards.
[ he's carefully studying what he can see of childe's profile. ]
To simply cut metal, biting down works in a pinch.
1/3 smdh
Have they ever been this close before? Surely they have, with how often they've strolled through the city together or sat beside each other, sharing drinks and conversation. But those were fleeting instances, nothing that truly crossed any boundaries. This, though--this feels... different, even though it really shouldn't. Zhongli's just helping him out, after all. It must be the heat, then. It's getting to his head, melting away his common sense. In a few days, he'll probably look back on this and realize how ridiculous he's being.
He nods to show he's listening, even though he kind of isn't. Not doing so would be rude.
Right, yeah. Biting. Ore. Makes sense or whatever.]
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--Like, with your teeth?!
[What else would he bite with, stupid]
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Yes. If there is a way to bite down without using one's teeth, I'd be interested in hearing it.
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[He's not actually worried about that. (Mostly. Archons can be really fucking weird sometimes.) But it distracts him from his actual thoughts, such as do you have normal human teeth or have you been casually hiding fangs this whole time or what and hey I've got a great idea on how to find that out, neither of which he's actually going to say. Obviously.
He does, however, glance over his shoulder again, his gaze darting to Zhongli's mouth, then away, then back again, as if he doesn't dare to linger too long. Truly, he's too curious for his own good.]
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ah, so he's curious. childe tries again to look over his shoulder, blue eyes glancing sidelong at his mouth but ultimately missing zhongli's golden gaze.
there's something inexplicably amusing about this.
zhongli's hand falls from childe's shoulder, hot where his palm had pressed to his skin. they are certainly closer than they've been before, at least with respect to zhongli. of the two of them, he's the least likely to outwardly indulge in something that could be taken as affectionate.
did he feel affectionate towards childe? yes. was he also enticed by him? that's a secret. (yes.) ]
I bring a pair of chopsticks when I travel. And no, I do not break my utensils. This is a power bestowed upon me as the Geo archon. You are the first to witness it after a few hundred years.
[ then he remembers. there's an idea. ]
You seem curious. ...There is a buckle at the front of your chest that will need to be removed. I can show you my teeth then.
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Alright, alright, make fun of me all you like.
[Because he's an idiot, he thinks Zhongli is teasing him... and hey, he's not totally wrong, even if he's missed the mark. Still, he idly lifts a hand to the buckle in question, rubbing at it in contemplation.]
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'Make fun of you?' For what purpose?
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Come on, xiansheng, you're obviously teasing me. [He doesn't sound fussed about it, though, just very sure that he's right.] You can't hide your sense of humor from me, you know. I see right through that serious persona.
[He's partially joking, but that's his answer. "For what reason?" "Because you think it's funny", essentially.]
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Do you not believe me?
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Should I?
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Turn to face me.
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The smart thing to do, of course, would be to laugh it off. To break this odd atmosphere that's settling over them like the humidity has, and move away under the pretense of grabbing food or a drink. Through sheer force of will, he's resisted imagining what Zhongli's described; if Zhongli's being serious, and he truly does exactly what he'd--what he'd said, then he won't be able to avoid it. He doesn't need to embarrass himself any further than he already has, and he can only blame the heat for so much.
But if he were that wise, he probably wouldn't have impulsively hopped a ship to Liyue in the first place. And if he doesn't turn around--if he retreats, in other words--then the curiosity will eat him alive. It's not a challenge, but it kind of feels like one, and Childe's incapable of resisting those.
He's still so alert, so aware of Zhongli's presence. The back of his neck prickles with something he can't put a name to.
Zhongli could still be bluffing, he reminds himself. If even Childe can tell how clearly awkward he must seem right now, it must be blatantly obvious to Zhongli, too. He can't discount the possibility of extended teasing.
He hesitates for long enough that it might seem like he hadn't heard Zhongli at all--but eventually, he turns around. He moves slowly, in part because he's still trying not to chafe his skin any worse than he already has, watching Zhongli closely as he settles back in place. His gaze is searching, very clearly trying to figure out what game they're playing so that he can brace himself against Zhongli's next move.]
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childe thinks that he doesn't know what that neck-prickling feeling is. zhongli could take a guess. in fact, he may not believe that childe doesn't recognize it at all.
neither of them speak, just searching one another, blue to amber-gold. childe looks almost apprehensive; zhongli looks with intent, calm and silent, waiting to see what childe might do now that they're facing each other.
up until now—and not just during this stifling heat, but from the beginning of their time together—they were always along the precipice of whatever this was. there were small suggestions of it, quips and looks and jokes-haha-but-what-ifs. zhongli is about to pull them into another dance that he's fashioned for them on his own, for nothing but the fun of it.
after that long moment of staring, zhongli's mouth curves into a thin smile. ]
You seem nervous. Or perhaps it's still too warm.
[ his gaze falls to the strap around childe's middle, the divot where his shirt has been unclasped, revealing the plane of skin underneath. zhongli watches a trail of sweat follow the others down childe's bare neck and stomach.
not for too long, though. if childe lets him, he reaches and slips his fingers underneath the straps. he gently pulls the buckle away from his chest, pinched between his fingers. he leans down slowly, murmuring. ]
Keep still.
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Childe's looked at him enough that he really should be used to it. And really, he kind of is--by now, he can mostly stop himself from staring like every other lovestruck fool in the harbor. But now and then, Zhongli still finds ways to hold him spellbound. When he smiles just so, or turns his face towards the sunset, or says things like I'm glad you're here with devastating sincerity.
He'd known, he'd known this would be one of those moments. But knowing doesn't help, and he finds himself caught anyway.
Gods, he's an idiot. He shouldn't have turned around.
At least Zhongli saw him at the pier, straight off of the ship. He knows, then, that the pink of Childe's skin must come from his time in the sun. That surely, if he looks more flushed now than he did earlier, it's just because they've moved out of direct sunlight. Not for... any other reasons.]
I'm not nervous. [He says, nervously--but it's the truth to the letter, if not in spirit. If Zhongli's teasing him, then Childe will complain to hide his embarrassment, but that's a harmless enough result that he has no reason to be nervous about it. If Zhongli's not teasing...
...Well. He doesn't actually know what he'll do then. But that's why it's only a half-truth.
His pulse betrays him anyway, rabbit-fast and impossible to hide when Zhongli's fingers are so close to his heart. "Still too warm"? Hah. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised to hear the ice on Dragonspine has melted away.
Keep still, Zhongli says, but it's an unnecessary warning. Childe isn't sure he could move even if he wanted to.]
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the way I wrote this whole tag and then closed my browser and lost it
NOOO THE WORST
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we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight