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When the dust fell, it was the three of them at the bank. La Signora, smug and sneering—objectively beautiful, but ugly inside, Childe knew. Of course, there was him—the terror of Liyue, the bringer of tempests.
And Zhongli.
His business partner. His first real friend. His first lo—
A traitor. Zhongli had fooled him, and Childe was awash with embarrassment, hot shame in his veins as he remembered the way they walked side by side, fingers brushing ever so slightly. The way golden eyes seemed to gaze into his very soul. The night before last, when they stood so close that Childe was tempted to press their lips together in what would have been their very first kiss—but he had a mission, and surely soon Zhongli would hate him with the rest of Liyue for what he had to do.
Except Zhongli was a liar, and Zhongli was Rex Lapis.
“The Gnosis, Morax,” La Signora said, and Childe laughed bitterly.
“Give it here, Rex Lapis. After all that, at least let me hold the damn thing.”
Signora scoffed, and opened her painted lips to speak, but Zhongli stepped closer to Childe.
“Very well,” he said. “Go on and take it.”
And Childe sucked in air as Zhongli’s gloved fingers wrapped around the bones of his wrist, thumb sweeping over his pulse point for just a moment, almost affectionately, before lifting his hand to the center of his chest. They locked eyes as Zhongli pressed Childe’s hand inside in a way that only solidified that the being in front of him was far from human.
It was…strangely intimate. A part of him, inside Zhongli—not the part he’d expected, although if he was honest, in his wildest dreams, it was Zhongli inside him. But still, it was intimate in the same way he’d imagine sex to be, not that he had much in terms of reference material.
Zhongli started at him, deep into his soul, as Childe’s fingers closed around something hard and warm, pulsing with divine energy.
Soon, he emerged from inside his body, Gnosis in hand.
Signora cleared her throat, and the moment was broken, both of them stepping apart from one another, eyes averted. He gave the Gnosis to Signora, who held the thing up like a jeweler scrutinizing a rare gem.
Not long after that, Childe made some petulant, whiny comment—an excuse to escape, bolting all the way to his quarters before slumping down the wall, harder than he had ever been in his life.
The moment haunted him. It kept him awake into the long hours of the night, until he gave up on sleep and set out to go fight some monsters. But his feet took him to a familiar door instead, and he gave three harsh knocks, waiting for the occupant to answer.
Maybe he wouldn’t. It was the middle of the night.
But, not one minute later, Zhongli opened the door, golden gaze glowing far too much to be a trick of the light in the dark of the night.
He was not human. He had lied about his identity, faked his own death for gods’ sakes, but—
Childe yearned. He had never wanted anything as much in his entire life.
“Childe? Is something the mat—”
Zhongli’s voice was attractive in the light of day, but now, deep gravelly with interrupted slumber, it was liquid gold. His body acted on its own, fingers gripping the silken border of his robe, and pulling him forward, pressing their lips together on his doorstep.
It was not sweet. It was not chaste. Zhongli made a surprised sound in the back of his throat, before returning the kiss, one arm slipping behind Childe’s back and pulling him through the threshold of the house, closing the door behind him.
When they parted, Childe panted into Zhongli’s mouth as the Adeptus grinned at him.
“This is rather sudden, don’t you think?”
Childe huffed. “I stole the heart out of your chest today.”
Zhongli laughed, pressing a kiss to Childe’s lips, and if affection had a taste, surely it was the osmanthus flavored tea lingering on his tongue.
“You stole my heart a long time ago, my dear.”