Chapter Text
A soft wind blew in the empty streets of the city. The night was a quiet one, with only the occasional drunks wobbling about next to the busy taverns. The moon shined upon the lake, turning the already perfect evening into an even more magical one. It had been mere weeks since he had walked amongst his people, and yet Venti had missed it dearly. There was nothing he loved more than breathing the fresh air of Mondstadt. Well, perhaps maybe a good wine, but that was beside the point.
Venti hummed along the lively tune coming from the tavern next to the quiet alley. Had he not had pressing matters to tend to, he would've crossed those doors with his harp in his hand, ready to play a few notes along. But alas, he was quite the busy bee.
He arrived in front of a run-down establishment, with only a small sign above the door to announce who resided there—or what they could offer. It was shabbier than he expected, but the name on the sign didn't lie.
This was indeed the right place.
He knocked three times. A young woman opened the door in a hurry. She had long pigtails and was drenched from head to toe. “Umm—I’m looking for an astrologist. It is rumored she resides here…” Venti said, gazing once more at the sign.
“Oh, yes, yes I’m Mona. Don’t mind my state, I was in the middle of a spell when it backfired. Hydromancy is ever so tedious. But please—” She took a step back. “Do come in. If you are here at this hour, you must have important business.” Her eyes were as bright as a child’s setting their gaze on sweets.
The place was messy. Filled with scattered books, and strange drawings on the floor and ceiling. “Quite the workshop you have here…”
She grabbed a rag and wiped the water off the floor. “Not many know of the wonders of my craft sadly. And even fewer can afford it. Finding work in these hard times is indeed difficult. But…” She pauses, looking up. “I have a feeling that it’s about to change.”
“I’ve heard that some time ago you paid a visit to a certain Archon. You gave him a prophecy about his fated one.”
Her hands stilled. “Yes, I did. Did he find the person he was looking for?”
Venti nodded. “Yes, he did. Your prophecy was quite precise. The northwest wind was indeed where he came from.”
“He? To know him so personally … you must come from the palace. If it's precision you're after, I'm afraid I can’t provide much more. I’m only a speaker of fate, I do not make it, nor do I always comprehend its full meaning. I simply share what I see.”
Venti sat down, scrunching his nose at the dust hovering about. “That’s not what I’m here. I’m looking for someone … well, many someones. A full family in fact.”
Her sigh was long. “I don’t normally do location spells. They’re ever so complicated and need fresh blood from a relative and not just any type, it has to be clean, without corruptions—of any kind.”
“When you mean corruptions…”
“Alcohol, drugs, the ravages of adulthood, visions…” She slumped forward, almost in disappointment. “Rare are without it.”
Well, that simplified matters. Childe wasn’t going to be an adequate candidate. Not to be prejudiced or anything, but in the long span of his life, Venti had yet to see anyone more corrupted. He could smell the stench of the abyss from miles away, the years of bloodshed on his hands, the delusion tainting his blood, and not only that but Morax’s mark on his skin. He wouldn’t do at all. But then again, if alcohol could taint it too, Venti was in no way a paragon of cleanness here.
Good thing he had a plan B.
“I have someone. A youngster but he’s under my protection, so I dare hope the ordeal isn’t painful?”
“I simply need a few drops … but the spell itself requires time, and is quite draining—”
He dropped a bag of Mora on the table. “We shall depart right away.”
After all, time was of the essence.
Chapter 25
With a simple gesture of her pale and delicate hand, a small army of guards stormed into the room. A coppery tang spread through Childe's mouth; sweet, yet bitter, laced with an aftertaste of pure pain. One that stretched from his hipbone to his armpit. His pain tolerance was well beyond most mortals and yet Signora’s kicks—like always—hurt like a bitch. Frail limbs like hers weren’t supposed to hold such power, but the strength of that woman was that of a beast.
He swallowed once. Then twice. “Hello to you too, I guess.
Her heels snapped on the floor like a whip. Clack, clack, clack. She glanced down through her white eyelashes. “You look like shit, Tartaglia.”
“What do you want, don’t you see I’m kind of in the middle of something here?” He asked.
Childe’s ribs throbbed with each breath he took. He could already tell this was going to be a nasty wound. Damn it… She always knew to hit where it hurt the most. At least this time, she didn’t aim for his balls.
Zhongli wasn't here, and he couldn't feel him either. There was no warmth in his chest, no familiar buzz on his skin. Nothing. That meant he wasn't close by. And if he wasn't, then Childe needed to find out exactly where he had gone. Quickly.
His eyes shifted to the door.
“Looking for someone?” Signora snickered. “Well, you’re not the only one. Your little husband ran off without fulfilling his marital duties. So, you see, I’m quite annoyed."
Childe’s brows rose. “The only marital duties he needs to fulfill are to me, not your puppet." He said, his tone thick with disdain. "Speaking of which—we both know that she’s not going to last, why bother sending her here in the first place?”
Signora was one of the toughest women he knew. Forged with fire and ash, and as strong as steel. She wouldn’t spill easily, but like a wildfire, once started, there was no stopping it. Childe only needed to start the fire.
Her glare hardened. Childe moved fast and caught her wrist as she was about to hit. “No, you don’t—” Signora's heel dug into his stomach. Hard. His grip loosen and he slammed against the wall. Yeah, perhaps starting the fire hadn't been the greatest of ideas…
“Whether she lasts or not doesn’t matter as long as she serves her purpose.” Signora crossed her arms and smiled. “Now, please don’t interrupt me again, because I have a lot to say. Starting with your purpose. Do you even remember what it is?”
“To protect the motherland, to serve the Tsaritsa, to honor her…” As he spoke, a dull pain rose to his throat. “Worship the very ground she walks on. That’s what all of you have taught me.” He put a nonchalant hand on the wall next to him, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the wobbling in his legs. But she did, and her smile grew wider.
“And look what you did with those teachings. You turned your back on your country, betrayed your queen, dishonored your whole family … all that for what? Becoming Morax’s whore? What a joke. If the Tsaritsa could see you now, she’d be ashamed.”
Childe's blood boiled in his veins. He hadn’t been the one to turn his back on his country, they had turned their backs on him the moment they sent him on this suicidal mission. “I gave her everything!” The shout echoed in the room. His fist slammed against the stone wall. “I was ready to lay down my life for her—for her cause … but she used me.”
She had been the one to betray and not the other way around.
“Oh, get over yourself. We are but pieces on a board, Tartaglia. To be moved is our purpose.” She said.
“I am not a piece, and neither is my family! She had no right to take them.” And had she not … had she told him about her plan, about this whole scheme from the very start, Childe would’ve followed her orders willingly. But she didn’t. “And she’ll pay for that.”
There was a moment of silence, in which no one spoke. Signora looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “I never would’ve believed it if I didn’t see it from my own eyes. How far you have fallen…”
With a single look from her, the guards moved. They forced Childe to his knees and a spear was pushed against his throat. Damn it. He wasn’t in any state to fight. The lover’s wine’s effects were still mid, but he drank a lot of it throughout the night. While the haziness in his vision and the scorning heat beneath his skin weren’t a problem now, they would be once Childe was fighting for his life. Which, considering their rocky history, would happen any minute now.
“Comrades, come now, there’s really no need for that—”
“Where’s Morax?” Signora asked.
Childe’s eyes fluttered in annoyance. “I don’t know.” The blade dug deeper into his skin. “I don’t know.” He repeated, this time, harsher. He pushed against the blade, daring the guard to cut him. “If I knew, I sure wouldn’t be here.”
He was going to kill them. All of them. Maybe not right this instant, but in a very, very near future.
“Then I hope you can forgive this minor inconvenience. That husband of yours is quite the hassle to find.” Signora said. Minor inconvenience his ass. He felt like he got run over by a hippo.
Childe didn't resist as he got dragged outside the chambers by a dozen angry guards.
“We didn’t get into all this trouble to find this stupid wine, only for him to not fulfill his duties.” Said Signora as she walked ahead of them, her long white gown trailing on the floor behind her.
So, Zhongli hadn’t… The weight on Childe’s chest lifted. Thank Celestia.
Her eyes rolled in exasperation. “Oh don’t look so relieved. It will happen.”
They stopped at the very end of the courtyard, where the light of the palace didn’t quite reach. Far enough that no one would see—or hear them. Childe let out an amused chuckle. “If you wanted to get me alone, you didn’t need to beat me up.”
Her scowl was instant. “Thanks to you, we know all about your contract—and Morax’s promise.” She pulled him towards the edge by the collar of his robe. “This will save me the trouble of tracking him down.”
Of course. Back then, when Xiao had found out about the mark and let him go, Childe had spilled everything. The contract, the sudden mark, all that he had learned in the palace—The reason they were so well informed, about everything, was because of him. Fuck.
Childe's heels dug into the ground. “What the hell are you d-doing?”
She smiled. “Summoning Morax. Didn’t he vow that no harm would come to you? Surely, he wouldn’t let his precious little bride fall to his death…”
Oh god. This stupid contract was going to be the death of him. Even broken, it was still getting him in trouble. “It doesn’t work like that, you idiot.” Hissed Childe. Once was enough, he didn’t need to be pushed down this palace a second time, thank you very much. Xiao wasn’t here to catch him this time, And Zhongli … well, he simply wasn’t here. “Let me go—”
Her lips pursed. “Very well.” She let go and his whole body fell forward. “Shit—” As he was on the brink of losing his balance, Signora grabbed the back of his robe. “I have a message from the Tsaritsa. The mission still stands. If you manage to bring her Morax’s head, you’ll be pardoned.”
“Pardoned?” Even in such predicaments, Childe couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that pushed through his lips. “For what?”
“For betraying her Highness and colluding with the enemy of course.” Said Signora, matter-of-factly, as if they were discussing the weather. “If you succeed, you’ll spare us all this dragging spectacle. There will be no contract to honor because, well, Morax will be dead. You’ll be able to go home. Isn’t this what you want?”
He himself didn’t know with certainty what he wanted. To keep his family safe, to be with Morax, to finally feel at home somewhere … to settle down, to build a life with someone—To belong.
While Childe had still yet to figure out what it was he wanted, he sure knew what he didn’t want.
And betraying Morax was at the very top of his list.
“I would strangle her Majesty with my bare hands before I would as much as lay a finger on Morax. You make sure you tell her that.” Childe spat.
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” The push was light but strong enough to make Childe stumble forward.
His survival instinct kicked in immediately. He threw himself backward, slamming his head against Signora's face so hard, Childe felt the collision through his very skull. A high and angry growl tore out of her throat.
“How dare you, you insect.” She clutched at her nose, howling in rage. A single drop of blood fell from her nostril. Dark, and out of place on her pale skin. “Once I’m done with you, even your mother won’t recognize you.”
Childe moved away from the edge slowly. “Now, now, there’s no need for that—” Shards of ice came at him from every direction. “You’re being unreasonable!”
Not that Childe was planning to be reasonable in the first place. Two blades formed around his hands, and he lunged at the guards. Taking them out first was the priority. Signora wouldn’t back off, but at the first sign of danger, they’d no doubt run to get backup— and Childe couldn’t have that. His blades sliced through flesh like a knife slicing into butter. Easily, and without any real resistance, and all that while dodging the very sharp shards following him around like furious hornets.
Once the guards were on the ground, he turned to Signora. “That’s why you don’t play with your food. You should’ve just killed me quickly instead of rambling.”
It was a bluff. This whole thing was. Taking care of mere guards was a piece of cake. After all, Childe would’ve been able to take them out with his eyes closed but dealing with Signora was a whole other matter. There was no way he’d come out of it alive. Not in his state, and certainly not when his thoughts constantly went back to Zhongli. His worry was growing stronger by the minute. His mind wasn’t focused on anything but finding the god.
“How about you and I have that talk, hm? We don’t need to fight, heck I don’t even know why we’re fighting, or why the hell you’re even here.” Childe said.
Her sinister laughter carried across the courtyard ominously. “I’m here to make sure your good-for-nothing husband honors his contract.” The air around Childe turned hot. Scorching. “He will sire a Shneznayan heir, and her Majesty will have what she wants, while you’ll be nothing but dust.”
Despite the unbearable heat around him, Childe’s blood turned cold. A Shneznayan heir… That was their goal?
What started as a chuckle grew into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Tears welled up in Childe’s eyes. “And then what?” He asked. Even if Zhongli does impregnate their bride— “Morax gracefully bow down, and retire? You can’t kill him. No one can, not even her majesty.” He would always be there to challenge the heir’s authority. They wouldn’t be able to take over Liyue, not as long as he breathed.
“Perhaps that may have been the case in the past but now? He’s dying. His powers are weakening, his land is defenseless … he’s but an old man on the brink of death. Killing him is not only a mercy, but a relief to his people. Whether with a new heir or by his death, Liyue will pass over to the Tsaritsa, and soon, this land will hang up her flag and worship her as their new ruler. Their savior, even.”
A blooming heat spread in his chest. “No.” He didn’t recognize his own voice. It was cold and distant, and … hollowed. A dim, yellow light shined through the fabric of his robe, yet Childe paid it no mind. “There will be no heir. There will be no overthrowing him, no taking over Liyue, no change of power. Morax will remain on that seat.”
“Words aren’t going to change a thing, Tartaglia. It’s already done.”
“If it was, you wouldn’t be here, hiding in the shadows, asking me to take out Morax. The very fact that the Tsaritsa asked such a request is proof enough that the battle isn’t won. Until Morax provides an heir, your whole plan is but words. And as you said … words aren’t going to change a thing.”
Without his delusion, holding his corrupted form would be excruciating, and probably the end of him, but taking her out was the priority. With her death, the envoys would surely go back home. Morax’s court would be free of their influence, and as for Childe’s family … well, if the leverage serves no purpose, the Tsaritsa wouldn't bother with them anymore. While his parents weren't respectable aristocrats, they still held influence. Killing them off mindlessly wouldn't do her any good.
Dull pain grew in his limbs as Childe forced the transformation. The air turned thick, and Signora’s pale brow rose. “Seems like you’re eager for death. Very well, I shan’t refuse you.” She said.
His bones screamed in pain. But Childe didn’t stop, and as he felt the transformation reaching its peak, Signora’s face morphed into horror.
Ah, finally she realized how dire her situation was— Her eyes shifted over his shoulder. A hand slid around Childe’s waist.
Oh.
A familiar scent swirled around him and a warm breath grazed at his nape. “Childe, that’s enough.” Zhongli said, his tone low, and dangerous.
His proximity made it impossible to concentrate and yet, Childe kept his cool. His gaze hardened on Signora, unwilling to let her -or anyone else—go, not after what had been said.
A dark and twisted pull grew inside of him. One he had experienced many times before, except much more painful, but pain was of no consequence. He had to get rid of them. “Ajax…” The god’s arms tightened around him and his chest pushed against Childe’s back, trapping him into his embrace. Like a snake stretching around its prey. “Don’t.” He warned.
As a dark shroud rose above his skin, Childe felt a tug inside his chest. Hot and bubbling, and very much distracting. It drew not only his mind away, but his whole being. He felt the god’s longing, the sheer want—He turned around, unable to bear it any longer.
“Are you quite serious?” Childe snapped.
Zhongli’s passiveness made it all the more difficult to focus. He didn’t speak again, he simply looked at him with this … sheepish and idiotic look on his face. Like a simpleton, without a single thought on his mind. Childe, however, had many. All of which include his hands wrapped around the throat of his insufferable husband.
He tried to push Zhongli to the side, hoping the god would take the hint and let him finish his business, but he didn’t move an inch. “This hobby of yours to always get in my way is really starting to get on my nerves. Why are you even here, aren’t you supposed to be breeding your new pet?”
Zhongli opened his mouth and Childe braced himself for more lies, but instead, a soft laugh pushed past the god’s lips. “I ran.”
My god—how many glasses of that damned wine had he drunk? Childe’s transformation was immediately forgotten. He blinked once, then twice. “You ran?”
The silence didn’t last long. Heels stomped against the ground. “How dare you run from your duties, Morax—” Signora’s strident voice was quickly interrupted by a loud grumble. Like thunder, except much closer. The sky above them turned golden, and the clouds; amber.
“Leave my sight at once or I shall remove you.” Morax’s words were spoken with such authority that even Childe’s seething anger came to an abrupt stop. The soft look on the god’s face was gone, but he didn’t let go of Childe’s waist.
Signora didn’t stay long after that. Her face had whitened and like the little rat she was, she turned heels and scuttled back into the palace. They stayed still for a long moment. The quietness would’ve been almost peaceful, had Childe’s thoughts not hammered against his skull, demanding an explanation.
“I can feel the turmoil within you, Childe… Nothing happened.”
“I didn’t ask.” He said, voice thick with disdain. And he didn’t care. At all.
“No, but you thought it.”
“I really didn’t.” He pulled away. “Don’t you have a contract to honor? Surely the future mother of your children shouldn’t be kept waiting. It is, after all, your wedding night.”
The insufferable sheepish look was back. He gave Childe a soft smile and leaned closer. “In my current state, I found it best to exile myself in the gardens… The night breeze does wonders to cool off the mind.” There was a lightness in his tone. Almost as if he was amused. “It was most enlightening.”
Then it clicked. An angry flush rose on Childe’s neck. “Since when were you listening?”
“Since the moment you were dragged here. I would’ve intervened sooner, but you seemed to have everything under control.”
Then he heard everything. Great. “Under control?” He shrieked, pointing at himself. “Is this what you call under control? Those bruises are gonna last for weeks! I could’ve died.”
There was an odd expression on Zhongli’s face. It was too soft. Almost giddy. “Well, truth be told, I was about to intrude as soon as I saw you.”
“But?”
“But your words were so sweet to my ears that I found myself unable to.” Zhongli explained with a wide smile hanging on his lips.
“I want a divorce.”
“Only death can do us apart, Childe.” And with that, he pulled him by the arm towards the edge, where Childe had, minutes ago, barely escape certain death. “But if you insist, I shall comply.”
The god’s hand tightened around his wrist. “No—” He yelped. But it was too late. Zhongli jumped and Childe was dragged with him.
The fall itself was terrifying, but not quite as much as knowing that Zhongli was right by his side, falling too. But even in the darkness of the night, Childe could still see the grin on the god’s face.
“I hate you!” Childe screamed at the top of his lungs. “I freaking hate you.”
Zhongli let go of his hand. A golden flash forced Childe’s wide eyes shut. When he opened them again, the god was nowhere to be seen.
“Zhongli?” Before he could look around, something slid under his feet and caught his fall swiftly. Soft familiar fur brushed against his palm. It was Zhongli's exuvia. Childe’s fingers curled tightly around the mane. “Bring us back!” But instead, Zhongli dived faster toward the ground and Childe’s heart sank. This idiot was going to be the death of him. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I told you, only death can do us apart, Childe.” The low growl vibrated through Childe’s whole body.
Oh my god—“I-I wasn’t serious, you idiot!”
While the god didn’t stop, their speed decreased. As they reached the ground, Zhongli leaned up, giving them a safe and smooth landing.
When Childe’s wobbly legs touched the ground, he let out a long sigh. “I really hate you, you know that?”
“Yes, you said as much.” Zhongli said, now back into his main form.
“Get us back to the palace.”
“Why, so you can plot more with my ministers? No, I don’t think so. We are staying right here.”
“Zhongli—”
“I won’t go up and down on your every whim, Childe. I’m not a hoist.”
“You’re an asshole, that’s what you are.” He spat.
Winter was nearing and the fields were empty and stretched for miles around them. No villagers would be around. Not at this hour nor this time of the year. Childe wasn’t sensing any danger for now but getting Morax out of here was still a priority. In his state, standing around in the open could be their demise. All it took were a couple of strategically placed fatui and Liyue would be without a ruler came morning. “We can’t stay here, let’s at least head for the forest—”
“You are the asshole.”
Something snapped within Childe. He turned around, very, very slowly. “What did you just say?”
There was no hesitation. “Isn't this how you mortals call those who have no regard for others and that act cruelly? If so, then it isn't I, but you, that is the asshole"
“I’m the asshole? At least I didn't promise to have a child with someone else!" Childe shouted between two angry breaths. "All you do is lie to me, deceive me, treat me like I’m this useless fool—"
"And you treat me like I'm mortal."
There was a long silence between them. Childe's brow furrowed. "What?"
"You act as if I am this pitiful thing … too weak to protect the ones he loves, too tired to defend his own country, too unsteady to manage even the simplest of banquets—it is unbearable. I do not need you to come to my rescue at the first sign of danger. I am a god. I have lived hundreds if not thousands of your lifetimes… I am more than capable of handling this."
"I do it because I love you!" All the held-back tension and rage poured out instantly. "And had you had even the slightest love for me, you would understand." Childe shoved both his hands into Zhongli’s shoulders and pushed. "I don't do it because you're weak, but because if I don't, I'll die." The god’s eyes widened, and he flew back into the mud with a loud thump. "That's how much you mean to me!"
The seconds passed, but Zhongli didn’t get up.
Childe’s heart dropped. “Shit, are you alright?” He asked, rushing to the god’s side. An arm latched around his neck. “Don’t—” Zhongli pulled, and Childe fell face-first into his chest. “Now we’re both on the ground. Happy?”
Childe breathed in the god's scent slowly and felt his body relax. He hadn't realized how worried he had been until now. If something had happened to Zhongli … if he had pushed him into the lion's mouth, Childe never would’ve forgiven himself.
Zhongli nuzzled his face into Childe's nape and wrapped his arms around him. "I do love you, and it is precisely because of that, that I have to see this through. It is not only my responsibility, but my privilege to keep you and your family safe."
The god always had the perfect words to quench Childe's anger. But as they lay on the ground, he couldn't help but smile. They looked ridiculous, and so out of place. It was hard to imagine that less than an hour ago, they were at the banquet amongst all those esteemed guests. As if sensing his amusement, Zhongli chuckled.
"If I could live the rest of my existence in a moment frozen in time, I would choose this one.”
Childe frowned. “Why? We’re out in the cold, covered in mud and in the middle of nowhere.”
“The closer to the ground, the furthest away from my duties.” He said, gazing at the palace. “Here, with you in my arms, I am content.” Zhongli seemed younger. His eyes had a hopeful glow in them. One that Childe didn’t recognize. The god looked … happy.
Whether it was because of the wine, or the mark, Childe couldn’t tell, but his insides stirred warmly. “If you could leave all this behind … without any consequences, would you do it?” He asked, his heart beating wildly.
“If the people are safe, and your family out of danger…” The god’s fingers trailed down his own chest and stopped right where his heart should be. Or in his case, his Gnosis. “I wouldn’t mind passing on the mantle. We could build a house at the edge of the world, miles away from any living soul. Live the rest of our days in peace.” Zhongli’s smile turned sad. “But … could you ever bear to live such a simple life?”
“Hmm, it doesn’t sound so bad. Though, that means you’ll be stuck with this asshole until he kicks the bucket. Could you bear it?”
“To spend every moment in your presence would be my honor, Childe.”
But that wasn’t what Childe was asking. “You’d have to bury me … inform my family of my passing … you’d have to mourn me.”
“You sure have the grimmest thoughts.”
“But surely it occurred to you before. If somehow, I don’t die from this impossible scuffle between gods, my life isn’t going to be an everlasting one."
“Whether I can bear it or not is of no importance. It is, after all, the fate that awaits us.” Zhongli’s voice was so quiet, like the whisper of the wind, brushing against his ear. “But I’m not one to surrender to fate so easily. We shall see what the future has in store for us.”
That was one way to avoid the subject. “Well, we know what it has in store for you.” Childe spat, getting up. His damp clothes stuck to his skin, making him shiver every time the wind blew. “Children, a new heir, probably a suspicious death soon after … seems like your whole future is already planned out, and there’s no place for me in it.”
“Ajax…” The voice was too close, too quickly. Childe didn’t even see him rise. “Everything isn’t always black or white. Don’t be cross with me.” Zhongli said, in a low, and deep whine. “Your place will always be by my side.”
There it was again, this dark and pure want, reaching through the mark. Zhongli’s want. His lust. Childe himself had been fighting the rising feeling ever since he figured out who exactly this wine had been for, but now that the god was no longer in such a precarious predicament, his body lean into the feeling. But not enough to lose his common sense.
He elbowed Zhongli in the stomach. “Back off. I won’t be swayed by your words, especially not when half of them are lies. We need to get out of here, now.” A warm tongue slid across his neck, followed by the graze of the god’s teeth against his skin. The sharp canines dug deeper, drawing a soft wince from Childe. “Zhongli-”
When the god pushed his hips softly onto his backside, he froze completely. Zhongli was hard, impossibly so. “I didn’t have time to say earlier, or perhaps I didn’t make time, but… You’re beautiful tonight.” He whispered, brushing a strand of Childe’s hair behind his ear. “Of all the souls I have met in this lifetime, yours shines the brightest.”
This was mad. Completely mad. A low growl resonated in Childe’s throat. He turned around and grabbed the god’s hair. “You talk too much.” He shoved his mouth against Zhongli's—rather savagely.
When the god kissed back, Childe felt butterflies in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, it was hungry and rough, and all he needed at this very moment. The tongue swirling against his was burning hot, stroking the inside of his mouth so passionately, Childe whimpered.
The god pulled away slightly, breathing in Childe’s scent, eyes closed as if fighting a battle within himself. “There’s a village not too far from here. If you’d rather I take you on a bed instead of in the mud, I suggest we make our way to it promptly.”
“What, is the great Morax afraid to get dirty?”
Zhongli’s eyes were like small suns, burning with such a fervor, Childe’s legs grew weak. “Childe, get. moving.”
Playful fingers twisted around the bottom of Zhongli’s belt. Childe tugged him closer. “Don’t order me around, I’m not one of your lackeys, Morax.” He said with a bright and teasing smile. He could barely keep himself from closing the distance but seeing Zhongli so flustered was worth the effort.
Zhongli’s jaw clenched tightly. “It would be wise not to tempt me, Childe." His hand clasped around Childe’s wrist like a shackle. "While I may be a god … my self-control barely holds by a thread as we speak. Go.” Zhongli implored, pointing straight ahead. “The village is about a mile from here.”
A faint warning rang in the back of his mind. Urging him to pull away. To run.
“What, should I just go without you?”
This felt slightly familiar…
“Oh, do not worry, I shall be right behind you.” A dangerous and dark glow flashed in Zhongli’s eyes.
Ah, Morax wanted to play.
Childe bolted as soon as the god released him.