Work Text:
“You look awfully pensive, Xiansheng.”
The soft comment draws Zhongli away from his thoughts, the darker turns they were taking. He turns around on his comfortable seat near an open balcony, where he had been idly watching the remaining Lantern Rite celebrations. Walking closer, Childe waves at the god and offers him a playful smile. He’s holding a medium-sized bag.
“Your pronunciation is still just a little off,” Zhongli teases, smiling to match. He can tell it’s not really up to the pleasant calm of his usual ones, but the Harbinger doesn’t call him out on it. The man just pulls a nearby chair to watch the festivities with him. “I did not expect to see you this Lantern Rite, Ajax.”
Settling down after a slight wince, Childe leans back in his seat. The lanterns littering the streets and occasional colorful fireworks illuminate his features, making him look ethereally handsome. His hair turns into the fiercest flames under the dancing light. “Well, I got my ass kicked pretty badly in Fontaine. Had to come back and show you the new scars!”
And what is Zhongli to do except indulge him? Even if he didn’t appreciate hearing of the exploits carried out by outstanding warriors, Childe is simply special to him. Coming from him, Zhongli would pay rapt attention to the most mundane of domestic stories as if they were the greatest epics.
To help the storytelling along, sharp amber roams over the Harbinger’s figure in search of the promised scars.
“This one looks like a claw.” Zhongli brushes a finger under the ginger’s collar, carefully tracing the thinning line. The feather-light touch earns him a quiet gasp.
“Courtesy of dear old Iudex” Childe explains, his lightless eyes half-lidded. He leans more firmly into the touch, though that may just be Zhongli’s wishful thinking. “In his defense, I was acting up in court. But in my defense, I was innocent and got framed by a machine.”
“Fontaine’s Iudex… That does sound like trouble you would get yourself into.” Zhongli fondly shakes his head with a laugh. Leave it to Childe to lift his mood. “And that one?”
Snapped out of staring at the god, Childe squints at his arm in puzzlement. Whether it is because he’s not sure which scar he’s pointing out among many, or how he got it, Zhongli does not know. Eventually, recognition sparks in those dull blue eyes. “Ah, that one was from my friend, the All-Devouring Narwhal! It’s Master’s… uh, well, her own teacher’s pet. It also gave me this one, and this. Oh, and one here…”
From his retelling and alarmingly numerous scars from that encounter a lot, Zhongli feels somewhat concerned about the identity and intentions of said “friend”. But he’s exceedingly weak to such a carefree and beautiful smile, so he makes himself comfortable and listens to the story of each new scar the young man shares with him.
Eventually Childe runs out of new scars, which prompts him to instead lean forward and ask: “What about you? Any new scars, Zhongli?”
“I no longer get into battle nearly as much as you seem to think, you rascal,” Zhongli teases. He expects his words to earn him playful jabs about his age or manner of speaking, but instead Childe stares at him with gentle eyes.
“You don’t have to. Not all scars are physical.” Childe fidgets with one of his gloves. He doesn’t seem particularly anxious, just his usual excess energy. “I felt the earth shake on my way here.”
Kind as always, the Harbinger is giving Zhongli the chance to deny any sources of distress. However, the thought of hiding things from Childe leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, given their history.
“... We almost lost Hu Tao this Lantern Rite,” Zhongli quietly explains. Wise, golden eyes turn back to the view out of the balcony. Admiring the view, but also gathering courage to elaborate.
“Ah… I’m going to guess that was the reason for the rather peculiar light show this time around?” Childe images through the bag’s contents and takes out a bottle of dandelion wine. The man pours a generous amount for himself in one of the empty cups on the small table between them. He then pours an equally generous serving in the cup Zhongli extends his way. “The Harbor, Yilong Wharf and Qingce Village are the usual spots for elaborate shows, but this one had some peculiar locations mixed in.”
Taking a moment to hum in acknowledgement, Zhongli swirls the wine in his cup. It will probably taste odd mixed with his leftover tea, but he doesn’t particularly mind now. After a healthy gulp, he recounts the incident to his dear friend. No detail is spared, and every question and comment is addressed.
By the time the god is done, they’re halfway through their second cup.
It would take a lot more to get the adeptus drunk, but the pleasant buzz does help him give a glimpse of how much the ordeal affected him. “The people of Liyue took precautions to handle the fallout and lighten her burden, but… it was not quite enough. Had the Traveler not been here to bring her back…”
A comforting hand finds its way to his arm, and Zhongli turns to see concern etched in Childe’s features. “Is she alright?”
“Yes, for the most part. She’ll be back to her antics after some good rest.” Zhongli smiles, his affection for his boss pretty apparent. Still, something deeply sad still lurks behind it. “It seems I get easily taken by surprise, when it comes to the affection I hold for individual humans I have forged close bonds with. Or the pain that comes with losing them.”
“From what I know about you, you’re not a stranger to loss.” Childe doesn’t mean for it to sound insensitive, he’s just very direct when curious. By now the god has gotten used to that quirk of his, among others.
“I’m not, but it is rather different. The loss I have experienced for the most part involved beings whose lifespans are… or should have been, a closer match for mine.” Zhongli slowly traces the rim of his cup with one of his fingers, lost in memories for a brief second. “Imagine, Ajax, loving a cut glaze lily the way you would fiercely love your siblings. Your oldest friends. Your significant other. Even with the best of care, that lily will be withered and gone in a blink.”
Silence fills the space while the ginger mulls over the comparison. A saddened frown takes over his expression, and Zhongli gives him the time he needs to collect his thoughts.
Eventually, Childe settles on an appropriate question.
“Do you regret it?”
Interestingly, Zhongli had never stopped to consider it. And yet, he’s certain of his answer almost immediately. “No. Humans have shown me that such fleeting lives may just make them all the more precious.”
He pointedly stares at Childe while he gives his answer, causing the man to blush. The ginger takes a healthy gulp of wine, much to Zhongli’s amusement.
“Hah, guess that’s a very poetic way of putting it.” Childe pours the last of the bottle for both of them. Then, he stares at his glass pensively, as if debating something. A confident little smirk appears on his face. “Well, this does give me some courage. It would be a little embarrassing to confess my feelings if I was a few thousand years below the ideal lifespan.”
And oh, Zhongli worries his tolerance may have lowered somewhat from what it once was, because surely the Harbinger isn’t saying…
Emboldened by the surprise radiating from glowing gold eyes, Childe leans in even closer. “Tell me, Zhongli; would it be too presumptuous of a little, scratched-up glaze lily to want you all to himself?”
The question is daring, and cheeky, but holding such a vulnerable hope to it. It is perfectly Ajax in many ways.
Relaxed and with a slight flush from the wine still on his face, Zhongli gives him a wide, sincere smile. The warm light from the celebrations outside highlights one of his fangs.
“I really like the sound of that, Ajax.”