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“I’m worried for the people." Ei has a hand on her chest to convey how bothered she is with the situation. “Winter in Inazuma has never been this long nor as strong. It makes me wonder if it’s the doing of Snezhnaya’s archon…”
The traveler is in deep thought, a hand on their chin. They bite their lower lip, brows scrunching up as they continue to think. “I doubt it. With the gnosis in their hands, there’s little to no reason why they would induce a heavy and long winter in Inazuma. They seem to leave the regions whom they already have gotten their respective archon’s gnosis. But maybe I can ask Childe just to be sure.”
“The harbinger? Is he even willing to divulge such information?”
The traveler grins, this time confident. “He will! He honestly doesn’t care much for disclosing information about their plans after the whole Liyue thing unless it’s super confidential. He’s probably back at Liyue now, dining with Zhongli again.”
Ei huffs a smile, eyes closing to form crescents. “They’re quite the peculiar pair, aren’t they?”
“Of all Teyvat, that they are.”
Zhongli is a patient man.
He really is.
Or so that’s what he likes to think of himself as he sits alone at Liuli Pavilion’s highest floor on a table for two.
Everything is perfectly set for an intimate dinner. A warm and not too-bright lamp above the table, swaying slightly in the pleasant breeze. The view is the great expanse of the nearby sea and the bustling port of the city. The appetizer smells wonderful, and as per the quality standards of the restaurant, it looks as delicious as it ought to taste.
And yet, all he can taste is the brine in the wind when he breathes in a calming breath.
When it concerns a certain auburn-haired young man, the patience he has undergoes an exponential shrinkage. Almost to the point of non-existence. It honestly makes him wonder if that’s a good or bad thing.
Hmm.
But the tea and soup are getting cold, he reasons to himself as he watches the liquids shine golden under the warm lamp above the table, he’s late by a quarter of an hour. And that’s something to note when Childe usually hasn’t ever been later than a minute or two of their appointed time of meeting.
It gnaws at him, tugging at his restless feet to stand and find the young man by himself – to drag Childe back to Liyue like he always thought of doing when they bid each other goodbye. Instead, Zhongli rights himself in his seat with a sigh.
Patience.
He’s waited for this day with giddy anticipation so much that he even—surprisingly!—brought more than sufficient mora for this dinner. His treat, he would say to a shocked Childe who was probably on his way to reaching for his own pouch. What he would’ve given to see the young man’s reaction to something akin to a miracle.
But as the hour becomes two, the manager comes to his table to inquire about his situation. Zhongli merely hides his disappointment with a polite smile and pays for the meal that’s long gone cold and untouched.
After a month of not seeing each other when Childe left for Inazuma, it’s understandable how dismayed he feels. He even uncharacteristically drags his feet back to his quaint house, thoughts circling around endless possibilities and reasons as to why Childe didn't come. A small part of him, however, still clings to a tiny thread of hope.
Maybe he’s just really late.
Tomorrow, or the days after, surely Childe will come to him.
Just like he always does.
White.
All he can see is white.
And it’s like he’s floating with how light his body feels. But it’s also cold. The kind of cold that feels deeply uncomfortable. Dangerous, even.
It’s freezing.
Childe blinks open his eyes just to squint at the bright expanse of a clear blue sky. He twists his head towards the left and sees a forest of evergreens topped with a light coat of snow. To his right is a large frozen lake starting just a few inches before his prone body.
What had happened?
More like, how did he survive?
All he can remember is a flash of white before there is sudden nothingness.
With a foggy mind and heavy body, Childe pushes his upper body off the ground with his elbows. Sitting up makes him see his clothes, something he surely didn’t wear when he decided to go ice fishing around Narukami Island. It’s actually akin to the kimonos the locals wear, except that it’s pure white and devoid of any design. Tied around his waist is a cerulean blue obi, loose enough that his chest gets exposed with the slightest movement.
Childe hurriedly ties it tighter, not minding if he’s doing the knot right or not. It’s not like Zhongli’s there to correct him about such, after all.
Oh god.
Zhongli. Right.
He’s supposed to come back to Liyue soon, their scheduled dinner at Liuli Pavilion close enough that he has to take the next ship back the day after he was ice fishing.
What day is it even?
He looks around, but the skies remain the same as he last saw them. Maybe a day hasn’t passed yet? He scrambles to stand, walking with unsteady legs towards the frozen lake in hopes of seeing the hole he made to fish. He squints over the glistening lake, frozen and pretty solid all over.
No.
He circles around, getting the feeling back to his legs. Searching and searching for a hole that is non-existent.
Has it been over a day?
He panics, running and almost slipping that he realizes he is barefooted. The ice feels burning but it’s substantially numbed by the thought of something else. All he can think of is finding one man.
Zhongli.
Reliable and knowledgeable Zhongli. He can help, that much Childe is confident of.
Despite the pain in his chest that grows tighter and colder the farther he goes from Inazuma, he persists. Even as he rides the ship back to Liyue, coughing up blood in his room, unable to sleep. It feels too cold. Too painful. But it’s worth it, that much he knows.
Zhongli will help him.
Though perhaps not in the way he expected.
Zhongli is, thankfully, alone in the funeral parlor.
It serves to lessen the annoyances in his day because he still feels a little depressed. Last night’s wait still lingers in his mind, making him wonder if he’s angered Childe at some point other than the whole gnosis fiasco for his retirement. What’s worse is that maybe, just maybe, Childe no longer wants to associate himself with Zhongli, opting to just leave him alone without even a single word.
And it’s not that far of a reach.
Childe’s done that when he got so angry after the revelation at Northland Bank. It’s why Zhongli avoided his piercing ocean eyes, only to regret it when the young man disappeared for two weeks. It was by pure chance that Zhongli reunited with the young man when he unwittingly found Teucer, Childe’s little brother.
Thank the heavens for that.
Zhongli promised to himself to never let Childe go, suggesting exchanging letters when it was impossible to meet each other. Surprisingly, the young man has accepted and honored it, writing letters about his adventures with the traveler before coming back at least once a month to Liyue for a shared meal and just about anything.
That’s why he feels like Childe’s broken an invisible contract.
But before he could lament more about it, not including the fact that he’s not getting any work done, the front door chimes to indicate a visitor. Zhongli stands from his seat to make himself more presentable. He smooths the uncharacteristically present crease on his coat. A little hand-combing tames his messier than usual hair. He even redoes the tie on his hair, sloppily done when he got up from the bed while mulling over uselessly gloomy thoughts.
Zhongli opens the door to his office to arrive at the reception hall. A hooded figure stands just after the entryway, their white Inazuman robe peeking from the beige cloak. Surely acknowledging Zhongli’s presence, the figure then moves to lower their hood, too pale forearms exposing barely visible scars.
A tuft of white hair comes into view, the messy locks utterly familiar despite the color.
“Xiansheng…”
Zhongli sucks in a sharp breath as the hood finally lowers down enough to reveal Childe’s face. Except, he looks like he’s been stripped of all the colors leaving nothing but white. Hair and skin whiter than what are healthy that he could be mistaken for a ghost.
His eyes, however, remain the same, if not a little brighter.
“Childe.” Zhongli whispers in disbelief, feet automatically taking him forward. He grabs Childe’s shoulders, thinner than when he last felt them in his hands. He can almost make a full circle around one with just his thumb and middle finger. Not good. “What happened to you?”
And then there’s the matter of the chilling concentration of cryo eating away at the young man’s natural hydro affinity and his life force. It surrounds him—wrapping around him tightly that his skin is ice-cold to touch.
No longer human, that much Zhongli is certain.
Childe’s eyes shine as they water, tears welling up before they fall in fat crystalline streaks. The sight of tears that freeze before they can even drop from the young man’s pale cheeks makes Zhongli still in his spot.
He’s crying.
It makes Zhongli see red, gripping his chest in a vice, squeezing and crushing his non-existent heart that he tightens his hold on Childe’s arms. He flares out more of his own geo aura, smothering the freezingly cold air around them with the warmth of the earth.
Zhongli moves with no hesitation, removing his hands on Childe’s arm to wrap them around the worryingly thin waist. The whimpering cries soon turn to sobs, muffled by his coat where the young man automatically buries his face.
The dragon in his feels enraged.
Someone tried to claim what is his, even to the point of changing Childe into a different being. It’s supposed to be Zhongli’s job, not anyone else’s. I will tear them to pieces. And they even wrap icy chains around the heart that should only belong to him?
How dare they!
Childe is his and no one else’s!
Whoever they are, Zhongli will find them and kill them in the most brutal fashion. He’ll skin them, slicing out the thinnest portions as they bleed to death. He’ll drown and bury them alive, only to heal them back and do it again and again and again. He’ll crush their very core in his hands to ensure that there’s nothing left, not even dust.
Zhongli sneers, glaring at the dark corner of the room as he embraces the crying man in his arms. It takes all he has not to dash away and find the culprit, but before that, there’s something he should do.
His left hand crawls upwards, slowly climbing the trembling back before stopping just where Childe’s heart lay. There is but one solution to this predicament. And he really isn’t as patient as he should be. Honestly, he should be asking Childe’s permission to do something that will change him further. But much, much better than what he currently is.
Cryo doesn’t suit Childe, no. Even Hydro barely does. And maybe this is secretly an opportunity for Zhongli to finally right what Celestia has done wrong the moment Childe got his vision.
His left hand turns into a claw, tearing through his leather gloves with ease. The sound makes Childe look up to him in alarm, mouth already open to ask. Without any warning, Zhongli’s clawed hand pierces the young man’s back.
“Ah —!”
Childe’s scream is cut off with Zhongli forcibly kissing him, tongue already on its way to explore the cold mouth. He should remedy this as well. Zhongli’s tongue turns longer and serpentine-like as he spreads his own heat to the young man that gurgles under the pain of having his chest and mouth explored.
Zhongli can feel the cold heart beat faster, in time with the panic the young man is surely feeling. With a subsequent touch, the elemental chains easily break with a shattering sound. Childe’s eyes bulge out from their sockets as he slumps in Zhongli’s hold.
Not yet finished with his alterations, Zhongli grabs the heart as tenderly as he can. The sharp claws retract, leaving nothing but the blunt nails of his human hand when he pulls. Arteries are effectively cut, and blood floods Childe’s mouth. The taste of iron dances on their intertwined tongues, albeit the young man’s is guided by Zhongli’s exploring ones.
It tastes like the finest wine.
He doesn’t want to let go—doesn’t want to stop taste the flood of blood that he slurps through their connected mouths. It reminds him of his early days, nothing but a beast who fought and ate his fellow beasts, their blood making him stronger and wiser. Until there’s no one else left but him, a powerful dragon gaining the ability to transform into a human form.
Childe seems to have a knack of making Zhongli act out his inhuman instincts.
With great reluctance, Zhongli leaves those luscious and now reddened lips as he pulls the heart near his own chest. He watches Childe’s horrified face as he pushes the beating heart into his chest cavity like he does to his gnosis.
A bright golden light shine before them, and the heart is no longer Childe’s.
It's his.
“What…” Childe trails off, confusion and shock evident in his face. “Xiansheng was that m-my heart..? What did you do to me?!”
The accusing tone Childe ends his question makes Zhongli click his tongue loudly. Something that automatically makes the young man flinch.
Zhongli stays silent as he lets his hand rest on the bleeding hole at Childe’s back to heal it. Just after he puts a substitute heart to replace the missing organ. It’s made of pure geo, shocking Childe’s body with the warmth it floods through his veins.
“I’m curing you,” Zhongli finally answers, “And I’m keeping your heart safe inside me. Nothing to worry about.”
Childe scrunches his brows in disbelief. “But-but! I came to you to turn me back the way I was, not literally take my heart for keeping!”
“Not possible at all. I simply took the liberty to cure you as best as I can. Can’t you feel it?” Zhongli asks as he slowly removes the weathered beige cloak, the silver clasp easily opened. “The warmth I gave you when everything was just freezingly cold? You’re no longer chained to whomever transformed you into another being.”
He’s now chained to Zhongli, of course, but the ex-archon is definitely not going to say that now.
The white kimono, bloodied and torn due to Zhongli’s actions, doesn’t quite suit his dearest Childe. He slips it off Childe’s shoulders, all while delightedly watching how the young man shiver with each pale white skin get exposed.
He needs to dress Childe in Liyuen clothes as soon as possible.
Childe weakly retaliates, trembling hands trying to pry Zhongli off of him. To no avail of course, as Zhongli pulls the cerulean obi on the young man’s waist, the kimono easily unraveling to reveal snow-white skin. A burst of gold is surely at Childe’s back, covering the hole Zhongli made to take the heart. Thin lines of gold even managed to crawl around the front.
Beautiful.
“No, stop…” Childe whimpers, still trying to back away. “Zhongli, what are you doing?!”
“Did you know, Childe?”
Zhongli parts the white robe, letting it fall softly on the floor. His hands turn dark, gloves long torn and tossed away as he traces each exposed skin. Childe moans at the hot trails he leaves, finally flushing at the heat that is now inside him.
“I was a patient man…” Zhongli pinches a pale nipple until it turns rosy and puffed out. His fangs reveal themselves as he gives Childe a predatorial grin. “Well, until you came to me.”
They promptly disappear in a flurry of gold.
When Hu Tao comes to the funeral parlor, it is empty and weirdly cold.
“Damn,” The mischievous director whistles with both of her hands resting on her hips, “The old man skipped work for the first time.”
The traveler comes back to Inazuma, feeling a little distressed since Zhongli and Childe seem to be missing. They’ve asked around Liyue, went to the shops and restaurants the pair frequented, but the last anyone has seen of just Zhongli was when he was at Liuli, alone and looking a little sad.
The traveler is about to convey the news to Ei, an apology already on their lips when the archon greets them with a smile.
“Ah, Traveler,” Ei smiles, looking a lot better than when they left her back to go to Liyue, “It seems that the situation simply remedied itself with time. Maybe the winter was just unusually long this time.”
“What?”
The traveler looks around and sees melting snow and budding flowers. Spring is really on its way, with cherry blossoms already blooming. The people are back at their stalls, working and finally outside.
Ei looks happy that the people are looking refreshed and healthy. “We simply must prepare in case it happens again. Though it is certainly a peculiar situation, we can’t seem to find any trace about anything that caused it.”
No shit, the traveler wants to say, but ultimately decides to just shut up and nod.
Something surely happened.
It’s really just that they didn’t know it involved Zhongli pretty much kidnapping Childe to fuck him senseless, unable to say no when his body would turn cold when left alone for too long. Childe needs the older man’s warmth, to have that throbbingly hot cock inside him spreading white, hot cum inside his belly.
Even now, Zhongli fucks the heat back into Childe body, warm, golden skin against cold, pale ones. Hips snap with a force that makes Childe gasp, the loud moan cut short. His pale cheeks finally take on a rosy tint, still quite ways away from the color of his bloody and abused lips. But the older man splashes the white canvas of his body with reds and golds.
There’s not an ounce of care given when all Zhongli does is pound, pound, pound. Childe’s body given no respite except for the first few days where the older man tortuously left him cold and untouched in their new room.
“I liked your fair skin and auburn hair before…” Zhongli starts, still unrelenting in his measured yet monstrously strong pace, “But seeing red on your white skin and hair stand out so perfectly has its charm too.”
Childe’s reply is but a warbled sound, unable to be coherent enough to say anything else other than warm, please, and cock. Though still as white as he arrived at the parlor, he no longer feels cold to touch. In fact, their bodies are much too warm with the power of geo pulsing and throbbing inside them.
Zhongli paints Childe’s insides white with a flood of cum one after another. And he feels like he’s no longer a person—no, he nothing but a white canvas inside and out with the occasional color whenever his painter decides to splash some red and gold.
Ah, Childe doesn’t mind this life at all—to be the magnum opus that his Zhongli works on day in and day out, non-stop at their isolated studio.