Archive of Our Own ^beta

"It's work," admits Zhongli after a long effort on Childe's part to get him to open up.

He is unused to this. Not being vulnerable, no—through their shared contract, Childe has seen him at his most, but this is different, this is—

A relationship is different, and this is a newfound thing fluttering hot in his chest. Zhongli is not inexperienced, but it's been a long time since he's let someone so close. His time in the scene, his chosen position of lording over others was all to maintain a careful distance, so he is rusty with this, with opening up.

Childe is patient, impressively so, but persistent, chipping away at Zhongli while he makes dinner.

"Just work?" asks Childe, pressing a little further. He sits at the table, face cradled in his palm, watching Zhongli cook. The needling is soft-handed, much like the way that Childe guides him through scenes.

Maybe that's why Zhongli eventually crumbles, maybe that's why it's easier, in the end, to give in to the question, and open up.

(Aside from the more obvious point of wanting to—the want of it means little if the comfort of doing so comes harder.)

"Recent jobs have been…" Zhongli sighs. "Childe, I hate bringing my work home."

"I don't blame you," replies Childe, "but I also know that your line of work is incredibly stress-inducing."

Crime scene clean-up isn't for the faint of heart, and even for Zhongli who is decades into his craft, it never gets easier. He's worn thin by the macabre, by the careful handling required, and there comes a point where it hits a head and becomes overwhelming.

In the beginning, being a Dom was a much-needed outlet but over time Zhongli craved giving up control, craved being taken care of instead of—

"You can talk to me," continues Childe, cutting through his thoughts. And then, softer, he asks, "Would a scene help?"

It would. It certainly would, but that isn't actually what Zhongli wants. No, he wants to explore the intimacy that their newfound closeness promises. A different sort of warmth, a different sort of comfort, more rooted in having a partner, versus a dom.

Zhongli swallows thickly. "Yes, but…"

"But?"

"I would rather just…eat and retire for the night."

He finally looks at Childe, whose throat bobs. "You want to stay over." Not a question, just a statement. And Zhongli would have not mentioned it had he not known it would be welcome. Childe's mouth twitches into a beautiful, rare smile, and he says, "Yeah, that's—that would be great." And then he clears his throat, doing his best to not look too eager. "If that's what you want."

Zhongli snorts and plates their food, and dinner after that goes swimmingly.

Later, once they've washed and are dressing down, Childe sits at the edge of his bed.

"I have an idea," he says, but his tone is alarmingly hesitant—enough so that it gives Zhongli pause. "I know that the contract we entered stipulates swapping our usual roles—"

"Childe."

"—also, I've told you to stop calling me that in private, but back to the point: would it help for you to slip back into…?" Childe trails off and plucks at imaginary threads on the bedspread. "With you, I'd be willing. To go back, I mean."

Oh. Oh. Not that Zhongli hasn't thought about it, but he's never broached the topic. Initially, their contract was one of trust and intrigue; he'd never expected Childe to take a step back for him. It's a precarious thing. Childe rarely had good experiences from what little Zhongli knows, and what little Childe has shared, and he isn't about to push him for more clarity on that.

Still, to be offered the reins of such control, to be told that he's willing to be leashed again—Zhongli stands there gaping, his fingers caught in the buttons of his shirt. "It shouldn't be for only me," he eventually says. "You know that we should both—"

"I do, Zhongli. With you, I'd—"

"Ajax."

"So now, you use my name." Childe sighs.

Zhongli looks at him critically, but Childe isn't tense; he's relaxed, and gives him those puppy dog eyes that just make Zhongli’s chest tighten. He undoes a button of his shirt, and then another. "Alright," he says. "Not a scene, though."

Not a properly planned one, at least. To others that would be a red flag, but Childe knows what he means. Zhongli craves something soft, something that doesn't need negotiation. For now. Later, they can—

Oh, later, what a thought.

"Stay there," Zhongli requests. He finishes undressing under Childe's watchful gaze. Childe is good for him, hands folded in his lap as he remains perched at the edge of the bed. Zhongli takes his time stripping down, and then washing up in the bathroom, testing Childe's patience.

Childe is still there once he flits back into the bedroom wearing his pajamas, hands still tucked against his lap. The sight of it is calming. Not-so arousing, but it wouldn't be a stretch were they to plan something more proper. This, though; this will offer Zhongli something to take his mind off his stressful days, to let all that tension leak into the ether.

He climbs into Childe's bed, peeling back the covers. "Come here, Ajax," he purrs, motioning for him to follow. "Do you remember that time you made me rest my head in your lap?"

Childe laughs as he crawls across the comforter, still dressed in his day clothes. "Don't think I can forget that. You liked it."

"And so will you. Head down. Rest and relax."

"Zhongli—"

"I thought you wanted this. Do you not?"

Childe's mouth tightens, but at the annoyance of the question being asked, not the insinuation of it. "Resting is nice. Resting sounds great, actually."

Zhongli huffs as Childe settles across the sheets, his cheek cradled by Zhongli's thighs under the covers. "You are not the most patient, Ajax. I know you'll squirm."

"I'm—"

"Be good for me as I read." The implication of a reward doesn’t need to be voiced. Zhongli brushes Childe's bangs back, considering his handsome face. "You know your colors."

"Yeah," replies Childe, his tone soft, buttery. He's already slipping as Zhongli combs through his hair.

And really, it isn't about the obedience of it; Childe is often stressed by his work too, and Zhongli has noticed the recent tension in his being. He truly wishes for this to be mutual in all ways. A little control, Childe relaxing underneath his hand; it's easy for Zhongli to get swallowed up by it and almost forget about his book entirely.