Work Text:
“… Childe?”
This wasn’t what he had expected. Indeed, Childe was supposed to be out on Fatui business for two more days, at the least.
And yet the ginger shock of hair visible from beneath the plush covers of their bed. Contrary to what many seemed to think, their three storied house was not the work of Childe’s substantial finances- but instead, a gift from Ningguang to Zhongli following the events that had transpired several years ago, the abode a token of gratitude for the many years Zhongli had spent creating an much greater home for the people of Liyue.
However, Zhongli did not see it as merely his residence, either. If it was merely his, the walls would not be adorned with photos of Teucer, Tonia and Anthon, retrieved from envelopes they had sent. It would not have a masonry stove in the kitchen, or a hand stitched Schneznayan blanket thrown onto their couch.
It was the place they felt safest.
So if Childe had returned, and gone straight to their room- instead of to the docks or to Zhongli’s office- something must have happened.
“What’s gotten you back here so soon?”
A grumble came in response, and Zhongli stepped forward, sitting down on the bed cover and peering over.
Childe’s hands were freshly bandaged, hair a damp mess — and eyes stained with heavy bags and rimmed red. He’d been crying, then.
“What’s wrong, love?”
Zhongli ran a hand through Childe’s hair, feeling Childe’s soft sigh in response.
“You’re back early…”
“I got hurt,” Childe finally whispered.
“You usually…” Zhongli trailed off.
Normally, Childe’s injuries would not be cause to prevent him from exerting himself further. Indeed, he was quite the stubborn fighter.
“Darling, what happened?” Zhongli knelt down, worry creasing his brow.
Childe’s hands, shaking, drew up to grasp onto Zhongli’s hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Zhongli softened his tense fingers, running a thumb over freckled skin.
“I don’t know. It’s… getting harder. To keep going. Got knocked off a roof and everything was just… painful. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get back up, xiansheng.”
This… this was not new. Not that Ajax would have realized it, as quickly as they barreled through life, but Zhongli had noticed. Injuries that should heal within days, healed in weeks.
The reason was easy to comprehend — and for that, it was the most distressing.
Childe did not know how to rest. Not simply an inability to stay put, but a fundamental lack of understanding of how to heal a body back from injury, what his limits were. So much time was spent breaking his own boundaries that they’d now become barbed wire fences, pushing back with force. Weakening his body with every overexertion.
In terms of technique, Ajax was right in his own declarations: he always was getting stronger.
In terms of his body…
Zhongli didn’t know how to process the litany of scars that littered Ajax’s skin, and seemed to ceaselessly expand in number.
How many times would he have to trace each jagged gash, press kisses to the deep marks on his beloved’s ragged hands, until they stopped appearing?
And perhaps Ajax, laying here, his eyes starry with tears, had finally seen this simple fact too.
“Can I stay here?”
Childe nodded, then stilled, seeming dizzy from the movement. Zhongli knew he suffered frequent headaches or dizzy spells — but rarely while laying down like this. He would have to check for a concussion later.
For now, he simply slipped under the covers, pulling Childe against him, hands moving to comb through his hair and lips coming to press against his forehead. “I wish I could be there, with you.”
“Join the fatui? Hey, I don’t think her Majesty would be opposed…”
“No,” Zhongli sighed, chuckling. “I have no interest in the whims of Anastasya or her army. I wish to be there for you, my dear. That way, if you stumble, you will always be caught.”
“It’s normal, to stumble,” Childe said, frowning.
“Perhaps,” Zhongli hummed. “But you do not stumble and right yourself. You throw yourself forwards, to the cliffs edge, to the oceans depths, to the abyssal planes, even when there is no need. If I could be there… perhaps, just once, you would let me catch you before you fell.”
Childe took a shaky breath.
“… I don’t wanna be weak.”
“You are not weak.”
“I’m not a damsel in distress, Zhongli. I don’t— I don’t want you to save me every time.”
“Then please,” Zhongli paused, reaching out, and cupping Childe’s face in his hands. “Save yourself. Ajax, my love, there is not many things that I fear at this point. Losing you, however, is among them. I do not know if you will live alongside me one day, or if I will watch you pass on. But I would rather you die old and joyful, than young and bloodied and—“ Zhongli took a breath. “Out somewhere where I can’t reach you.”
Childe was silent for a long minute.
Then slowly, shoulders shaking, nodded, a sob coming from his lips.
“Oh, baobei,” Zhongli breathed, pulling Childe closer.
“I’ll try,” Childe whispered, voice ragged. “I don’t know- don’t know if I can. But I’ll try, for you.”
Zhongli breathed out, relieved to hear it— even if the words were only tentatively given up.
“That is all I wish.”
“Mmn,” Childe buried his face against Zhongli’s chest.
Zhongli pulled the covers further over them, shifting slightly until his tail— normally hidden in the effort of appearing human — could wrap around Childe’s legs and waist, keeping him firmly held in a way he never seemed to hold himself.
“Sleep, my love. You have earned it.”
Childe made a noise again, eyes fluttering shut.
Zhongli kissed his temple once more, humming faintly. Something soft. He knew that Ajax was normally comforted by the purr of Zhongli in his dragon form — and he’d suspected it was similar in his human form.
Either way, he would stay here — as long as was needed.
If he could not be there on the battlefield, to pick Childe up as he fell, he could be here, holding him close.
Maybe, that would have to be enough.