Planet Befall - Chapter 3 - SwirlingWinds

Chapter Text

Childe took water from the faucet out of habit. It was lukewarm but he didn’t care enough to wait for the water to cool.

At the top of the stairs, just before turning into his room, he caught the bathroom light sneaking below the door. Not a moment later, the light widened and Zhongli emerged in his robe, steam wafting out from his hot shower. He rolled his wrist absent-mindedly before meeting Childe’s gaze. When Zhongli smiled, it didn’t feel like it was out of an obligation to be polite. It melted onto his face, subtle and gentle, Zhongli backlit by the mellow bathroom lights.

Zhongli’s movements brought Childe’s attention to his wrist at once, and Childe considered the way his hand cramped not an hour ago.

“Do you want another massage?”

Mild surprise flowed over Zhongli’s expression before it softened again. “Thank you, Childe, but I insist you get your rest. Your flight is early, although I’ll drive you there.”

“Drive me? It’s alright, I can just call a taxi,” Childe starts, then frowns at Zhongli’s unimpressed look. “It really is early.”

“I’m comfortable waking up well before sunrise. Please, rest and leave it to me. I would rather see you home at your plane than at my doorsteps.”

After a moment of contemplation, Childe straightened and nodded. “Thanks.”

Satisfied, Zhongli flicked the light off and tidied his robe. He smiled. “Thank you. Good night, my Number One Defender.”

Left in the dim hallway, Childe momentarily froze until he regained enough wits to hide himself in the guest room. He was blushing again, and he knew it before he felt it. He wished his viewers knew how to shut their traps.

The sky was a dark periwinkle when they left, stars polluted with city light, and the streets were slushy with brown snow. It wasn’t cold enough for a jacket, but without one Zhongli’s ears would turn pink, so he wore not only a coat but wrapped a scarf around his broad shoulders.

Childe’s eyes felt swollen, barely staying wide. He yawned when he got in the passenger seat, smelling the familiar leather scent that seemed to linger in Zhongli’s house as well. Silently starting the car, Zhongli smiled, appearing much more put together than his company. The only signs of his weariness was the rare stray hair and the way his eyes became monolids from sleep. If he squinted, Childe might see a small imprint from Zhongli's sheets on the high of his cheekbone.

“How far’s it?” Childe forced himself to blink as Zhongli pulled out of the driveway. He felt oddly like a kid, napping in the car on a late trip.

“Roughly forty minutes.” Oh. That was another difference, Childe hazily remembered. His voice was deeper after waking up. “You can rest while I drive,” Zhongli laughed gently.

Shaking his head only made Childe realize how nice it was to nuzzle into the soft backrest. He grunted his disagreement, but the warm streetlights and purr of the engine seemed to grasp the tinges of sleep that lingered. Not to mention, Zhongli sat peacefully beside him, calm and collected.

As Childe dozed, he didn’t react an inch when Zhongli declined his seat for him. He felt the road rumble beneath him, but even that was soothing, like the constant thrum of Zhongli’s voice.

“Childe,” Zhongli coaxed. A hand brushed over Childe’s shoulder, and through his open door Childe could sense many more lights were present. “Ajax, we’ve arrived.”

With a soft rub on his shoulder, Childe blinked and rubbed his dusty eyes. Stretching wide against the seat, he came to by realizing who was talking to him, and later that his seat had shifted. Long, taupe hair curved at its ends around Childe’s chest, and Zhongli smiled at him beneath it.

“Mn,” Childe grumbled before sitting up, subconsciously holding Zhongli’s arm where it patted him. He could feel his own hair was a wavy mess.

Now he really felt like a kid again. Waking up was the worst.

Zhongli retrieved his suitcase from the trunk, and by the time he circled around, the slight chill made Childe keep his eyes open.

“I’ll walk you in,” Zhongli said. It wasn’t a question.

Nodding, Childe blinked a few times before taking his suitcase from Zhongli’s right hand, and they entered the illumination side by side.

Naturally, the inside was even busier than the parking lot. No matter the time, it was like a hospital on doom’s day, people scattering about with their chests puffed out. The sanitary smell was only covered by the greasy restaurants along the walls, making Zhongli’s cologne a nice thing for Childe’s sleepy mind to cling to. The crowds grew heavier, and Zhongli held Childe’s free wrist, long fingers reaching his palm.

When they neared Childe’s queue, they both slowed without a word. Childe was wide awake from the squeaking luggage and searing light. Zhongli stood close to him while they walked, even as the crowds dispersed by the plane’s entrance.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Zhongli,” Childe turned to him and tried for a charming smile, as weak as he felt. It might not have been confident, but at least it was bright in a way that the cool morning air was not.

Zhongli’s hand didn’t tighten but slipped lower, into Childe’s. The brown jacket fit Zhongli well, squared at the shoulders and tailored to his chest. The scarf softened the tip of his jaw and met his hanging, looping hair.

“Of course,” Zhongli answered simply. He smiled and his face was as gentle as his hands, mellow and warm in Childe’s, but just as solid and weighted. “It was nice seeing you when I woke up.”

Without his own permission, Childe’s breath felt heavier and his brows furrowed slightly. “It was nice for me too. I’ve lived alone for a while.”

Only slightly, Zhongli shifted closer. Childe felt his heart raise. He wasn’t one to back down, so he met Zhongli’s gaze, but just for the man’s eyes to briefly flicker behind him. Observant, Childe turned, noticing a blonde head that was trying to stand out of the way while staying close enough to the queue.

Gradually, the noise of the airport could be heard again.

After a moment, a helpless laugh left Childe – tired but amused. It was like seeing Tonia when she was younger, scared to interrupt him and their parents. “Over here, Aether,” Childe called. When Aether tried shying away again and avoided Childe’s gaze, Childe only tilted his head as if unimpressed. Eventually, Aether met his eyes and surrendered himself.

“Acting like a stranger?” Childe asked once Aether came closer, suitcase rolling behind him. Zhongli waved and smiled. The ex-pro was much taller and older than the blonde, Childe remembered.

“It looked like you two were talking,” Aether muttered. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Childe shook his head, and he meant it when he did. Zhongli’s hand was still covering his own, after all. “Come on, you’re bad at hiding anyway. Even at the airport, there’s only a handful of blondes here, you know.”

Aether deflated. “Yeah, yeah… I’m tired. Xiao’s a really light sleeper. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to get up without waking him.”

“You didn’t tell Xiao?” Zhongli asked politely. His hand had tightened only slightly, but Childe noticed.

“I told him last night I was going to leave, and that he better sleep in. He got home really late. He tried arguing with me, but he was so tired I managed to say my goodbyes then and tuck him into bed,” Aether smiled. “If he’s upset, he’ll have to argue at ANYC. It’s only in a few weeks, anyway.”

Zhongli nodded. “That’s right. And you were right, in case you doubted yourself. Xiao needs more rest, and I know it's difficult to bring yourself to wake him even if he'd like that.”

Childe yawned on behalf of all three of them. “Let's cut the bedtime talk, yeah?”

Nodding, Aether covered his own contagious yawn.

“There, take a seat,” Childe gestured. There was a handful of empty chairs at their boarding entrance, but most of them were spread apart, used as spaces to separate person from person. Two were left in the corner where they stood, side by side.

“You guys can,” said Aether.

Childe waved him off. “You’re about to fall over. I doubt you ate anything.”

“This early?” Aether frowned.

“You’re still young. You should at least have some milk, even now.”

Aether sighed and gave up, rolling his suitcase and soundlessly plopping into one of the seats. Childe didn’t listen to logic too well, so there wasn’t much point in Aether arguing.

“You should sit down as well,” Zhongli turned to the ginger. “Your flight isn’t for a short while.”

“I’m good.”

“Mn,” Zhongli hummed. “Would you like something to eat, then?”

With his sweater covering him, Aether didn’t look over when he heard Childe laugh. Instead, he remained relaxed, head hanging off the chair’s low back. He tried not to stick his feet out, even if he was short.

“I’m not as young as Aether,” Childe smirked. “Although I am overflowing with youth.”

“Of course,” Zhongli smiled, his tone amused. “But you’re still growing. I’ll buy some youtiao, it will be easy on your stomach.”

Childe waved it off but Zhongli just nodded, his hand slipping from Childe’s before walking off with a satisfied expression.

Three servings of the bread were in Zhongli’s hands when he returned. He handed one to Aether, who said thanks, then to Childe. When Childe picked it up, his fingers only became slightly greasy with the dough’s soft, golden surface.

Surprisingly, Childe was hungrier than he thought. He finished his serving, then helped Aether when he said he was too full and unused to eating so early. After, Zhongli fed him some of his even as Childe insisted he didn't have to.

“Come here,” Zhongli said when Childe finished, the ginger licking the tips of his fingers. Childe listened and Zhongli retrieved a handkerchief from his coat, gently taking the back of Childe’s palm with one hand while wiping with the other. Then he looked up to his face, dabbing the corner of his mouth. Zhongli looked focused but pleased once he finished.

Childe thought the trip in his heartbeat warranted one too many youtiao.

Not long passed before their flight was announced and the passengers started flooding from their seats. It was all pre-assigned seating, so Childe wasn’t sure what they were in a rush for.

“I’ll be right with you,” Childe told Aether, who went to join the flow of people after saying bye to Zhongli. Then Childe turned to Zhongli as well. “Thanks again for everything. I appreciate it.” He really did.

Easily, Zhongli took Childe’s hand again. Childe thought, if this was Zhongli’s new thing, he wouldn’t complain.

Zhongli replied, “I was happy to.” He was holding Childe’s hand with warmth, sending tingles up his arm. “Let’s meet again soon. I’ll give you calls until then.”

Childe almost forgot how to reply, interested in his tender eyes. “I’ll call you,” Childe says.

After another two seconds and a last warning over the intercom, Zhongli’s hold squeezed momentarily before letting go of Childe’s hand.

“Stay well.” Childe gave a glad smile, still feeling where Zhongli’s soft fingertips grazed.

— — —

“Ah,” sighed Childe, his head leaning off the back of his couch.

“What's wrong?” Aether said from Childe's desk, his eyes not leaving the computer as he checked his own Emails. He was staying for a day after they landed and would fly the rest of the way home tomorrow.

Maybe Childe could get him to check his Email too, while he was at it.

“Do you follow Zhongli on AXIS?” Childe asked.

Aether wasn't very curious; honestly, he tried to tune the whining out. But Childe insisted that Aether understood, so Aether pulled out his phone.

“See?”

The blonde tilted his head. Zhongli posted a picture of a public park with the caption, ‘The weather is nice.’

“Nice,” Aether nodded, locking his phone and laying it on the desk.

“Right?”

The park looked quiet and peaceful, slow after winter, but the cutest part was that Zhongli took a picture of it in the first place. It wasn’t even that nice of a park, but Zhongli thought it was nice enough to not only take a photo but post online.

Aether swivelled his focus back to his Emails, a leg propped up on the chair. He looked a lot smaller on it than Childe did.

After a few moments of Childe sitting lost on the couch, Aether checked the time. “I'll order dinner, what do you want?”

He finally sat up, shaking his head. “I'm good. And I have groceries in the fridge if you want. Help yourself.”

Surprisingly, Childe wasn't lying. Most streamers ordered-in the majority of their meals, but Childe was married to his workouts and health, so he ate for the part with weekly subscription packages.

“Not in the mood to cook,” Aether shrugged. “And I don't need two hundred grams of protein per meal.”

“Suit yourself,” smirked Childe. He glanced at his phone and checked the time. “I'll call the kids while you look.”

“Mn,” Aether nodded, perusing his delivery app as he stood to get a glass of water.

Childe followed him into the kitchen, his phone ringing while he looked through his fridge.

The dialling stopped and Childe closed the door after grabbing a drink, and three bright orange heads popped up like chrysanthemums on his screen.

“Hi!” Teucer shouted. Childe noticed Aether smile from the corner of his eye.

Childe grinned back. “Hey, guys.”

“How was your flight?” asked Tonia.

“It was easy, although Aether’s poor company. The kid dozed the entire way.” Childe leaned against the counter and his guest gave him an unimpressed look.

“Big brother,” Anton started eagerly.

Childe took a sip and hummed for him to continue.

“You suck at PUBG.”

Childe choked. He coughed twice, then wiped his mouth as he smiled. He caught Aether cracking one too, although the blonde's was much more genuine. “Oh, so you really did watch, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and it was embarrassing,” Anton grumbled. “How will Zhongli know how well I play if my brother freezes every time he has to aim?”

“No, no, I’m sure Zhongli won’t judge you off of that… And come on, I’m not bad.”

“There’s a reason why you were scouted for FIFA instead of FPS,” Anton muttered. Aether laughed quietly.

Setting his glass down, Childe fought to keep up his smile.

“Zhongli’s a professional, right?” Tonia defended. “It only makes sense he’s so much better.”

So much? His expression really took a beating.

“Hey, hey, I can’t have you guys thinking your big brother is lame. Just wait, I’ll exceed him soon enough.”

“But he’s been retired for a while now, hasn’t he?” Asked Tonia.

Teucer looked up from his cyclops. “How old is he? Don’t only really old people retire?”

“He’s only in his late twenties,” Childe laughed. “He’s just loaded enough to pack up early.”

“Twenties?” Tonia flushed.

“Mn,” nodded Childe. “I should’ve toured you around the whole house. It isn't my style, but god, it looked like it was in some old magazine.”

Anton huffed. “I’m still pissed you didn’t tell me you knew him sooner. Do you even know how cool – I mean, respectable Zhongli is?”

“Who gave you that potty mouth?” Childe scolded. “Don’t say ‘pissed,’ unless someone really pisses you off.”

“Pissed,” Teucer mumbled, curiously testing how it sounded in his mouth.

Childe's mouth tightened to a line. “I only started talking to Zhongli a few months ago, too. Aether introduced me.” Childe flipped the camera around and Aether smiled from the island, waving.

Teucer’s eyes lit up. “Aether!”

“Hey,” he smiled. “You guys look so much bigger.”

Childe came over and turned the camera to face the both of them, Aether centred.

“I'm going on a field trip,” Teucer beamed. “We're gonna see dinosaurs and sharks, and I'm allowed to touch the bones. Little kids can't because they'll break them.”

“Oh, a fossil museum?” Aether quirked his head and nodded along happily. “That's great! Make sure to look at the pterodactyl, those ones could fly.”

Teucer looked offended. “I knew that already.”

Aether paused before smiling awkwardly with a small laugh. “Good, good, you can help guide your friends around.”

Nodding vigorously, Teucer hummed in agreement.

They called for a while longer before hanging up. Shortly after, Aether's food arrived, and just as Aether grabbed the door, Childe received a text.

[Zhongli: I hope your flight went well.]

Zhongli sent a picture of the same park he'd posted, but in this one, Zhongli was in it too with a smile.

Aether returned and saw Childe smiling, a single hand in his pocket.

— — —

At noon the next day, Childe stepped through his front door and walked out of his shoes. He had taken Aether to the airport safe and sound, and returning home felt somewhat unfamiliar. It had only been a few days but spending so much time with others made his apartment a lot quieter than normal.

Childe thought for a moment before booting up a stream, settled in sweatpants and a tank-top. He tilted his mic back into position.

[First]

[[Waving.jpeg]]

[Welcome back]

[Are you fluent in Chinese yet?]

[This isn't Zhongli's channel, what are you doing here?]

[Missed your lives, man]

“How's it going?” Childe leaned on his armrest, scanning his chat. “The weather is sh*tty here. And no, I'm not retiring just because I missed a week. Follow me on AXIS and you'll stay in the loop.

“The new FIFA terms and service? Yeah, I saw some news on that. I don't care as long as they fix the bugs and make up their minds about what counts as a red card.”

[FIFA fixing its bugs? [Laughing.jpeg]]

[[Laughing.jpeg]]

[Let’s be honest, it's only good because there's nothing else to replace it with]

[Why do you play so many games? Just choose one. So confusing.]

[How was the con?]

“The con? It was fine. Nothing too special about it, but it was nice to meet other creators.”

Childe chatted for a while before pulling up Befall and running his dailies. Honestly, there was no way to only play Befall, not with the lack of endgame in it. He'd rather bounce between games than waste time picking flowers – literally.

After completing his weeklies and other responsibilities, Childe turned back to his chat again. He grazed over the barrage before replying. “No story or plan for today, I just felt like going live. Probably going to get through the Archon Quest for the next boss.”

[Then look at this clip from the Global Series]

[God Zhongli went crazy in that]

[Was that his last year playing pro? Was it really that long ago?]

[Hasn't played pro or been signed for years, where are his racks flooding from?]

[Sponsorships, probably]

[What’s Zhongli sponsoring, reading glasses?]

Admittedly, Childe stifled a laugh. “We won't be reacting to any clips today, we're focusing on the new boss.”

Switching characters, he teleported to the new arena.

[Wow, is this the first time a Zhongli clip has been rejected?]

[Where'd the ginger simp go? Did he delete his channel?]

[And here I thought I was donating enough to help…]

[I guess the pressure got to him]

[You guys are overreacting, Tartaglia can't watch everything on the internet. Want him to look at your macaroni art too?]

[Calm down, we'll support the stupid ginger anyway, even if he’s trying to act tough]

[No more simping here, I guess]

“Since when have I been a simp… Stop, you don't need to send highlights,” Childe frowned.

For the record, Childe would argue, he had denied Zhongli clips before – especially the few times he had a set schedule for his stream. Zhongli just played well, so Childe found time to watch him here and there.

Childe’s frown deepened as he realized just was an understatement. Thinking of the man, he wasn't just good at gaming. He was a good speaker, knowledgeable, and incredibly calm in a self-assured way. Never wasting space, his movements carried elegance, but managed to appear humble all the same. If a marble statue were warmed by a hearth for long enough, Childe was convinced Zhongli would walk out of it.

Childe's keyboard clacked as he mindlessly threw out his ultimate at the bustling Hilichurls.

[What the hell was that?]

[How's the weather on Cloud 9?]

[You say you need to farm bosses but can't focus your Ult?]

[[Laughing.jpeg]]

Even though Childe trash-talked, he could only do it so confidently because he held himself to an even higher standard. He bit his cheek at the comments but didn't talk back.

Zhongli's hand over his on the mouse, strong and warm; the thought flitted through his head. Blinking hard, Childe tried to suppress the nerves floating up.

“I’m just getting started. Give me a chance to warm up.”

Abruptly, his phone rang and Childe rolled his shoulders as he reached for it. When he saw the contact, he froze, his character thrown back by a hit on his screen. He paid the game no mind, pushing closer to his desk as he answered, looking down with hot cheeks. “... Hey.”

[Who’s calling?]

[Wow, slacking on the job. This is why they say content creators are lazy [deflated.jpeg]]

[Do you want me to revoke my Celestial Blooms?]

[It could just be his mom, you know. And you literally can’t revoke them [laughing.jpeg]]

“... Of course.” Childe spoke into his phone, and wanted to merge with his desk. “I’m live right now, though. Is that okay? … Okay.”

Childe’s hands returned to his keyboard, removing his headphones from his neck to hold his phone between his cheek and shoulder.

[Private call? Just step away from the game then, degen]

[Did someone die?]

“No one’s dead,” Childe snorted. After a moment, his gaze dropped to somewhere behind his monitor. “... You don’t have to… Are you sure?” Childe felt his pride crumble. “Okay.”

The moment Childe put down his phone and connected a call to his stream, his viewers flooded the barrage.

[Simp.]

“You weren’t busy, were you?” Asked Zhongli, genuinely, from the other end of the line. It was later in China than in Russia, and Zhongli’s voice had already gained a rougher note.

“No,” Childe said, and his ears went red with shame.

“Ah, that’s good. I intended to call you to discuss in private, but I suppose it isn’t a particularly personal matter to begin with. Have you received the Email regarding ANYC?”

Childe tilted his head, his blush barely receding. “What Email?” Aside from his already lacking attention to his Inbox, he’d been out with Aether all morning, so he hadn’t bothered to check.

“I’ve just received a message asking if we would be interested in being part of a Call of Duty: Modern Warfare event.”

Immediately, Childe froze. It wasn’t a secret that Call of Duty was dominating the FPS community for the past few years, but Childe hadn’t streamed COD any more than other FPS on his channel. With Childe’s lack of interest in CS:GO, preferring Battle Royals, it was the equivalent of League of Legends themselves offering a deal. “Both of us?”

“Mn. A competition between us. To prevent either of us having the upper hand, and to promote the series’ new release, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare was suggested.” Zhongli politely left out the fact that PUBG, despite being a veteran game, was horribly outdated for an event such as ANYC.

Suddenly, the nerves fled Childe and his mouth hooked into a smirk. A more giddy, electric feeling whistled through his veins. “Really?”

“Of course,” Zhongli laughed softly.

“... f*ck.” Grinning stupid, Childe’s hands paused on his keyboard and mouse. “You’re in, aren’t you?”

“If you are.”

“Add it to our list.”

Zhongli laughed again. Childe felt more aware of his chair’s cool leather on his skin and the way it smelled vaguely of Zhongli’s house.

“Who else is playing?” The ginger spoke for the sake of speaking, just for a distraction.

“The full line-up hasn’t been decided yet, but there will be two teams – yours and mine. The second player on each of our teams has yet to be decided, but is more than likely to be another streamer or retired professional. Management stated they wanted creators outside of the COD sphere to pull in new players.”

[Look where your big mouth got you]

[Tartaglia couldn’t even survive with randoms, why put him with Zhongli?]

[It’s his fault if he gets owned, he shouldn’t have trashed on the God]

[You guys are forgetting, Tartaglia's good compared to most players. Of course he isn’t a God, but at least put some respect on his name]

[Yeah, and COD is so much newer than PUBG. It won’t be anything similar]

[This is gonna be fun [laughing.jpeg]]

“Ah…” Zhongli cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m not certain if I should have disclosed this. Although, I was told promotions would be out soon… Please, dear viewers,” Zhongli said gently, with a light amusem*nt to his words, “don’t make too much noise about this.”

Still bouncing with the promise of a good battle, Childe laughed loud and shamelessly. He leaned against the firm back of his chair. “Did you still want help with that domain, Zhongli?”

Zhongli hummed, the smile clear in his voice. “If you’re willing.”

“Just a second, then. I should be able to join you now.”

[Zhongli’s much more relaxed since retiring…]

[Retiring? He might as well have kept playing pro with how active he’s been]

[I’m sorry Zhongli, I can see the news articles already]

[Won’t Zhongli get in trouble for leaking?]

[That’s only if he signed an NDA, or something like that]

[I guess the rumours are true. If you want to deal with Zhongli, your contracts need to be fool-proof]

— — —

The battle gained traction in minutes. For the God of PUBG, the pioneer of professional E-sport gaming, to be returning to a moderated match stirred every gaming outlet’s interest. The reason for his return being a co*cky, up-and-coming streamer begged for even more spotlight. While he was given credit in multiple games, Tartaglia wasn’t even a professional player. Some sources speculated that Zhongli was bribed to participate, but others countered that there was nothing to bribe him with. What was there that a God didn’t have?

Despite the talk, Childe didn’t shy away from the attention. If anything, the stakes made it all the better. The only thing to make Childe crumble was the God himself.

[Zhongli: Are you free tonight?]

Childe heard the notification through a single earbud, huffing as he ran. After pulling out his phone and giving a glance, he slowed to a walk, still breathing heavily. His nose, cheeks and fingers were red from the cold evening air.

[Tartaglia: Yeah, want to call?]

[Zhongli: Yes, and play if you’re available. In the past few years, I’ve become rusty in FPS and could use some practice before flying out.]

Childe snorted, tapping on the cool screen.

[Tartaglia: It didn’t look that way to me. But sure, I’ll hop on]

He knew he had a stupid grin on his face, but he didn't bother hiding it as he stood on the sidewalk, eyes on his phone. The streetlights lit the soaked roads yellow.

“Sorry for the wait,” Childe exhaled. With freshly washed hair, he slid his headphones on and hooked his controller up to his PC.

“Not to worry. Did I catch you at a poor time?”

“Just on a run. No big deal. You ready?”

When Zhongli hummed, Childe clicked and invited his European account to the party. After reading the Email thoroughly, Childe learned that they would be playing Gunfight, so he selected such for their practice. It was a two-versus-two game mode where each team tries to kill their enemies in a forty second round, fighting until a team wins six rounds. Quick and harsh. It was exactly Chlide’s preference.

After a short wait, they loaded into a game.

The seven second countdown started and Childe held his controller loose, flicking the sticks about. At one second, he adjusted his grip – then, at zero, it tightened.

Immediately, a scratchy voiceline came through his headset, the character urging Childe to kill his enemy quickly. Childe smirked at that, already on his way around a large shipping container. The map was as new as the game mode, having only been released in Modern Warfare, featuring a concrete port with walls of metal containers and railings.

Childe scanned from behind his cover. Left, then right.

He grinned when he saw the tip of a gun. With a tap of a button and swerve of his joint sticks, he lept around his cover and shot his enemy. With a second shot to the head, his enemy fell.

Before Childe could say a thing, his screen glowed blue in victory, meaning Zhongli had just killed the other.

“Nice,” Childe smiled. There was a hiccup of laughter in his voice, something like a kid’s.

“Well done,” praised Zhongli. The final kill, Zhongli’s, replayed on the screen. “These rounds are quicker than I imagined.”

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Childe beamed.

A slight pause came, soon followed by Zhongli’s gentle laughter. “It is.”

Without a second to waste, the next round began without countdown, Childe’s character already on the move.

“If we played on the same team, we’d win no matter our opponent,” stated Childe.

“Should we ask for the event teams to be modified?”

He laughed, subconsciously leaning closer to his desk. “Modified?”

“It would be fun to team together… But perhaps you’re simply frightened by having to fight me,” Zhongli teased.

At that, the ginger barked his laugh. “Of course, and I’ll delete my account while I’m at it.” A few scattered clicks across his controller and blue overtook his screen again.

“I won’t hold back,” Zhongli promised as the third round loaded.

Taking two lost rounds, it was a few minutes later that they arrived at the deciding game. At five wins, they only needed one more, although their opponents seemed to be gaining ground the further into the match they got. Childe felt himself getting excited.

He began his advance quicker than before, making his way around what looked like an old military camp. “They’ve gotten better at hiding, I’ll give them that.”

The footsteps of Zhongli’s character shifted behind him. “Mn, I agree.”

“At least these maps are small. They’re better for–”

“Move,” Zhongli interrupted and swiftly ran in front of him, covering Childe’s character as a bullet flew at them.

Gunfight didn’t allow for much character customization in defence or offence given its snappy pace, so without even a third shot, Zhongli’s character fell.

Childe bolted behind a cover. “sh*t, I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry, Zhongli.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Brows furrowed, Childe shifted with hawk eyes, focus landing on a shadowy figure. Aim set, he fired decisively, and a kill was added to Childe’s scoreboard.

Zhongli chuckled. “It’s alright.”

Childe’s mouth tightened into a line. As the timer ticked down to ten seconds, he ran head-first to the standing opponent, ducking to the side to shoot until their knees hit the ground.

“Thank you, Childe,” Zhongli smiled.

Jaw and brows still taught, the annoyance in Childe's gut slowly subsided. “Mn.”

When they returned to their Home screens, Childe forced himself to swallow. “Another match?”

It was a bit late to ask, their Party already disbanded.

“Of course.”

“You’re not tired yet?”

In Russia, the sun had already set, Childe having returned home and showered long past evening. The streets outside were just as quiet as his apartment. In China, it was late even for a streamer.

A light laugh came from the other line, followed by a rich and low voice. “Is this the first time we’ve played this late into the night?”

Tingles trickled down Childe’s spine. If Zhongli’s honeyed tone wasn’t begging to be heard, Childe would have taken his headphones off his burning ears long ago.

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess we have.”

“Let’s play some more, then.”

Forcing a small swallow, Childe nodded and sent another invitation. “I’ve seen a few of your COD clips,” he said for the sake of changing topics, trying not to regret it once it left his mouth.

“Ah, you have?”

The quiet of Childe’s room was growing unbearable, so he ticked up the in-game volume by a few notches.

“Just some.”

“Those are… rather embarrassing.”

“What, the way you won the title of God in Every Game?”

Although Zhongli was one of the firsts to go professional in E-sports, and was greatly talented at that, it wasn’t enough to secure him such a nickname. Only when he branched into FPS games beyond PUBG and continued to show his transfer of skills did the title catch on, spreading his reach across every gaming sphere. It was the raging new FPS of the decade - CS:GO, COD and others - that set Zhongli’s title in stone.

“Nicknames like those are just for fans,” Zhongli chuckled.

A faint draft drifted from Childe’s window. “You don’t care for them?”

“Titles and such?” The God thought for a moment. “I enjoy the sentiment of them and the memories they carry, but I don’t find the titles themselves so important. If I am called a God, I will accept it; if I am called fodder, who am I to argue?” A hint of humour rested in his words.

“Why did you change your name?” Childe toyed with the wire of his headphones as he spoke, staring at his screen because there wasn’t any reason to stare at anything else.

“I wanted to expand past the image of my older days,” answered Zhongli. “Though it isn’t so dramatic or meaningful, just a shift in preference. ‘Zhongli’ seems harder to pronounce overseas, though,” he laughed. “My management wasn’t fond of that.”

“Will you change it back, then?”

The older man gave a small breath of amusem*nt, the tail-end of a whispered laugh. “To my managers’ displeasure, never.”

Despite feeling foolish and naive, Childe couldn’t help how comfortable his seat felt, how much warmer the air had become. He was only sitting at his desk and talking with a friend, but strangely, he felt a reassurance he wasn’t aware he lacked.

“Zhongli…” Childe muttered, eyes still locked on his screen.

The man in question hummed.

Childe thought for a moment and lightly bit his lip. Then he surrendered a smile and felt joy in the deepest, most tender part of his chest. “Thanks for playing.”

After a moment, Zhongli processed the words on the other end of the line, then exhaled in a soft, tired laugh. “Thank you as well.”

— — —

“I was told the bakery was over five generations old, yet grew slowly due to a reluctance to hire others and accept company partnerships.” Zhongli sounded amazed. “It’s difficult to remain so dedicated to a model such as that. Nonetheless, their bread was soft and perfectly browned. I marked the location on my phone.”

Loading into another COD match, Childe gave a hum. His in-game voice call was muted as he played. “The name sounds familiar… Is that the same bakery next to the seafood place?”

“Yes, that one. Their appearance is older, perhaps dated, but it does well at making their store stand out. Next time you visit, you’ll have to try some.”

— — —

“Teucer couldn’t stop going on about it,” Childe laughed. “It wasn’t even too big of a museum. Honestly, they couldn’t have anything in it bigger than a velociraptor… One day, I’ll take him to the biggest one in the world.”

“The Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences is the largest by far. If you went there, you’d count more bones than people. You’d need to book a tour guide for days in a row.”

“You seem like an expert yourself,” chuckled Childe. “Why don’t we go together?”

“I feel like this list is growing rather quickly. Pottery, New York, bakeries, and the Royal Belgian Institute.”

“Is that a no, then?” Childe smirked.

He could hear the smile in Zhongli’s voice. “Belgium’s pottery is famous, renowned for pioneering the craft. It’d be a shame not to visit.”

— — —

[Get these COD-Heads out of chat, they’re f*cking with the stream]

[You mean half of the chatters?]

[As if Befall has new content these days anyway [crying.jpeg]]

[I don’t f*ck with a lot of streamers aside from that Zhongli guy, but I guess Tartaglia isn’t bad. Still not Zhongli, of course]

[Dude, that clip of Zhongli from Black Ops’ S2 release]

[Low key went hard]

[Tartaglia could still beat him, I’d bet money on it]

[... Delusional]

[Just play more Befall, isn’t that your job?]

[I miss Befall content]

“Mn, we’ll get back to other games once the event is over,” replied Childe, shooting another player down before the screen faded a victorious blue. “And I did my dailies earlier, you know.”

[Why train so hard? As if you have a chance against Zhongli [laughing.jpeg]]

[Zhongli was hard-carrying in his last stream]

[God Zhongli must’ve been capping, no way he hasn’t been practicing all these years]

[Is it really okay to talk about Zhongli so much in another streamer’s chat?]

[Tartaglia’s the exception, he brings up Zhongli by himself 90% of the time]

[Yeah, I actually didn’t care for Zhongli until he started showing up in Tartaglia’s streams]

[Simp]

The viewers weren’t wrong. In most streams, it was disrespectful to mention other streamers even if it was in a positive light. It wasn’t unheard of to be Timed-Out or banned for mentioning another streamer, and most people could agree that it was fair. Tartaglia was the exception. He enjoyed watching the clips that viewers sent and while he reminded his viewers that others streamers won’t feel the same as him, Childe himself didn’t mind – especially since he’d ratted out a few girlfriend fans off the bat.

It was also true that Childe often brought up Zhongli by himself, and that with many years of streaming, he could change the topic just as easily.

Childe cleared his throat and minimized the barrage on his screen. “What skin should I buy?” He asked under his breath, and relaxed more when it seemed to work. The chat quickly switched to one of their favourite pass-times: telling Tartaglia how to spend his own money.

In minutes, Childe figured it would be easier to just buy them all.

The instant his in-game coins rustled and every Operator skin was purchased, his phone buzzed dully on the table.

[Zhongli: [Deflated.jpeg]]

[Zhongli: The meeting was longer than I expected. Good night, Childe. [Snoring.jpeg]]

The chat quickly typed their complaints when Childe took a moment to smile then respond before returning to his game. “Just ignore the camera if you get distracted so easily,” Childe teased.

Only another hour into the game did Childe notice the speed of his barrage suddenly increase. Messages flooded in fast enough that Childe spared a second from his match to skim through it.

[Barbatos crossover??]

[He’s live right now too]

[That girl? What’s she doing on COD [laughing.jpeg]]

[Barbatos is a guy, genius]

[Gay]

[Tartaglia collecting members of ARCHONS like I’m collecting student debt]

“Barbatos?” Childe mumbled, then clicked to his teammate’s gaming tag. Display names could be changed easily, but duplicates still weren’t allowed. When the tag read ‘Barbatos,’ Childe knew it was him.

There had been news that Barbatos wanted to change his tag to ‘Venti’ as Rex Lapis had switched to ‘Zhongli,’ but the change was never made. Most of it seemed to be due to laziness.

Suddenly, his phone began vibrating again, although with a different sound than before. It was an AXIS notification.

[Barbatos has sent you a message]

Many people didn’t like gaming with Venti for one valid reason: he was drunk. He wasn’t a rude drunk, just a giggly and loud one, and while it made for great content it wasn’t the best for climbing ranks.

Childe was different in this aspect as well. He didn’t care if his teammates were drunk, high, or sleeping, he could carry them anyway. So before Venti could send a sixth message, Childe accepted his request, automatically granting him the privilege to start a call.

“What’s up, Venti?” Answered Childe.

“We’re on the same team,” he giggled. No one was surprised the drunkard was drinking.

“Liking the new game mode?” Childe asked. The second round started and he immediately searched a popular hiding place, already memorizing the new maps.

“Better than Black Ops,” Venti hummed.

Childe’s eyes widened and he quickly broke into a laugh, leaning back in his chair and hooking a foot around his desk-leg to pull himself closer. His chat definitely wouldn’t like that. “Yeah, I’ve heard some people say that too. Especially the Duo modes.”

“Mhm!” Venti agreed, then let out a small shout of joy as he shot his enemy dead. “Oh, and speaking of duos,” Venti drawled. “Where’s Zhongli?”

Childe paused momentarily, his character flinching on the screen. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, like, always in Duos. That rockhead declines my invites to play with you, by the way, which I think you should talk to him about. All I want is a few easy carries…”

“Mn,” Childe shrugged, trying not to think too much. “He was tired today.”

“Ah… Poor old me, always out of the loop.”

“Why do you ask?”

The second match ended just as quickly as the third began. “The blockhead hasn’t been live much, you know. Not even for that boring Liyue event!”

Of course Childe knew, he’d kept up with Zhongli’s account for an embarrassingly long time. And Childe could unfortunately understand where Venti’s train of thought went. When Childe was live and they were playing together, Zhongli would end his own stream, consequently leading his viewers to Childe’s. Zhongli never gave a clear response when Childe asked, but the answer was clear enough.

Oddly, for once, Childe didn’t find the gesture annoying. When it was Zhongli, no matter the context, it never felt like he was looking down on Childe.

“Not today,” he smiled fondly.

“I’ve only seen Zhongli play so much with one person, and it was back when he recruited Xiao,” Venti thought aloud. He almost sounded sober for a moment as his tone softened a fraction. “Even then, Xiao was too shy to ask Zhongli to play, so it wasn’t very often. Really, I think Zhongli likes you.”

An enemy shot Childe as his heart sputtered, his screen fading grey before going into Spectator’s perspective.

[Favouritism]

[Lmao Tartaglia flinches so easily]

[Sappy much? Gay ass]

[Wow, I think you have a really great future as fodder, Tartaglia. Keep up the great work]

[Can you quit feeding? Embarrassing]

[He can only play well with Zhongli]

Suddenly, Venti gave a small yelp and Childe heard his voice growing distant from his mic. “Ah, I spilled it everywhere,” he whined on the other line. “It’s on my controller too!”

As always, the chat flipped like a switch, clipping to Venti’s stream to discover the commotion.

Gratefully, Childe took the moment to gulp some water, glancing wearily at his chat before softening his gaze on Venti's stream a tab over. Venti went live while drunk more often than he did sober, but he rarely spilled good wine.

— — —

Most popular streamers had side accounts, especially if they were signed to an organization. Every like, repost, or donation was considered by their followers, so it was only natural to want privacy now and then.

Childe only had one account, and the next day, he brazenly dropped into Venti’s livestream to gift a handful of Celestial Blooms and dip.

If he had to tip-toe around his followers, there was no point in having followers in the first place. He garnered a fair amount of hate for his brash honesty, but it also maintained the atmosphere of his livestreams, where the community felt as tight-knit and as honest as a streamer could be. It was also due to this that Zhongli’s girlfriend fans never lasted long in Tartaglia’s chat – at least not once Childe’s fans realized they had been there to stay.

Childe continued streaming after his quick visit to Venti.

[Dude, why aren’t you playing COD, the panel’s this week]

[You’re going to fall behind [sighing.jpeg]]

[I thought you guys wanted him to go back to Befall? Make up your minds already]

[He’s just doing dailies]

[Where’s God Zhongli? He said he needed carries for Andrius.]

[Isn’t your God supposed to be good at all games?]

[He’s the God of FPS, not gacha, dumbass]

[Still not here… but I have my reminders on. Should be live later today.]

[Ah… okay, thanks [deflated.jpeg]]

Childe shook his head. Being a streamer was a lot like babysitting, and he figured that was why he liked it so much. At the expense of a few followers, Childe lived the blissful life of a streamer who didn’t require much chat moderation.

“Damn, I just need one more,” Childe sighed, clicking through his resources. He didn’t bother checking twice before opening up his Friends list and scrolling to find those online.

Yoimiya was on, but like most popular streamers, she had auto-reject on as default. It was easier to reject requests than to cautiously hide ID numbers for hours every day. The same went for Beidou, who used to allow requests before she blew up.

Keeping this in mind, Childe scrolled a bit further before clicking Join World.

When Childe’s character loaded in, it was next to a cooking stove in Mondstadt.

[Thoma: Hey!]

Childe smirked.

[Tartaglia: Mind if I steal some flowers?]

Thoma’s character looked up from the stove and jumped.

[Thoma: Go right ahead! All yours [winking.jpeg]]

After saying thanks, Childe teleported to Liyue, snatching the silkflower. He only needed the one, but he hung out in Thoma’s world and assisted with bosses just because he could.

[Thoma: Wow, you keep getting stronger]

[Thoma: How much is it going for?]

Thoma was jokingly referring to the price of Childe’s account. “What do you guys think?” Childe turned to his chat and smirked.

[Clean $0]

[Idk, $100?]

[Maybe $25 on a good day]

[ - $5 to change the username too, that one has a bad reputation]

Childe frowned. “I just hope you guys aren’t selling yours that low. Unless, of course, you’re saying yours are only worth that much.”

Half an hour later, Childe finished his banter with Thoma and levelled up his character. Afterwards, he happily logged out and booted up COD.

At two in the morning, the lights in Childe’s apartment were still on and bright, but his computer was finally given the chance to rest. Childe ran a hand through his messed hair before clicking on the notification he’d gotten earlier that day. It was from AXIS, from Zhongli’s account.

Apparently, Zhongli only had one account as well, but for different reasons than Childe. Where Childe didn’t worry about people’s opinions, Zhongli didn’t have much to type in the first place. He was ready to ramble on video for hours at a time, but typing just as much made less sense than simply going live. Still, Childe was surprised when Zhongli uploaded a picture without a caption for the first time since Childe followed him. A picture was worth a thousand words, Childe supposed.

He kicked his legs onto his desk and opened the post. Promptly, he froze.

The image was of Zhongli himself, who hadn’t posted a selfie since retiring from the pro-league. Childe tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes as he clicked into the image.

The image was a simple mirror photo that cut off above Zhongli’s neck. His lean shoulders and toned waist centered the photo, modelling the cashmere sweater that fit him perfectly. He wore black gloves that matched his pants, but his sleeves were rolled up slightly.

Childe didn’t zoom into the image, feeling somewhat guilty when he tried to. Instead, he clicked out and reposted it without a second thought, stomach fluttering. Only after he did, he realized a caption would’ve made more sense. He usually only reposted with witty remarks or interest in the subject matter. But when he started typing a reply to his repost, he quickly found himself deleting what he wrote, realizing he sounded like one of Zhongli’s girlfriend fans who would get memed on in his chat.

For a short while, he tried scrolling through his Homepage before giving in and locking his phone, plopping into his chair. I think Zhongli likes you, Venti’s voice reminded him.

In front of him, his computer whirred, not properly shut down. He glanced out the window before deciding a few late games wouldn’t hurt.

He got comfortable in his seat, sweatpants on and his phone charging next to his PC.

— — —

A week passed until Childe boarded his flight to New York City with a light suitcase and heavy bags under his eyes.

As he walked into the cabin, he noticed the light second wave of snow outside, foggy but clear enough to see the side of the airport. When he got to his row, he offered to switch his window seat with the kid eagerly staring at it, her older brother thanking him graciously. Childe waved it off.

Once he settled himself, he pulled out his phone and scrolled aimlessly through AXIS. It was nice to be flying alone, he thought, letting his smile relax. Before long, the announcements started, stating safety precautions and more. Already secured in his seat, Childe kept scrolling.

[ChalkHomunculus: Will be selling at booth C16. Thank you for your interest.]

[Purplewatermelonss: I wish I got tickets to ANYC, life is unfair [crying.jpeg]]

[Razorwkxanjks: Zhongli’s winning the event, no kizzy]

[God_of_Rap: No way Tartaglia loses, he’s been playing more COD than I can watch]

[CallofDutyOfficial: The teams are finalised… and they’re GOATED. Look forward to seeing @Alatus and @Barbatos at the second half of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare’s NYC panel. Joining @Tartaglia and @Zhongli respectively. #COD #MODERNWARFARE]

Freezing like a deer in headlights, what felt like minutes passed before Childe blinked twice, then clicked onto the thread.

“Excuse me, sir,” a flight attendant approached Childe at the aisle. “Please turn off your Data and Wifi before we take off.”

Startled, Childe forcefully cleared his throat, doing as instructed despite the pull in his gut. “Yeah, sorry.”

He locked his phone as she left, leaning his head against his backrest.

He was playing with Xiao?

Although Childe didn’t mind, wouldn’t Xiao, Zhongli’s true “number one defender”? Rolling his shoulder blades, Childe tried not to think too much. He rested his eyes hopelessly. Maybe buying Xiao lunch would bring him around.

— — —

Childe landed in the evening because there wasn’t a chance he'd wake up for a flight any earlier. The siblings next to him were reserved, the little girl quietly amazed by the clouds outside, politely poking at her brother but never disturbing the other passengers. It was an easy flight, thankfully.

As he exited the plane, the warmth was immediate, coupled with the clarity of air that wasn’t heavy with breathing. Stretching his muscles, Childe ruffled his hair and rubbed his eyes raw before heading to the luggage conveyor belt.

He felt tired despite his long rest on the plane. Usually, flights didn’t affect him so much, especially with how often he agreed to visit conventions and other events. He kneaded his neck with the heel of his palm as he surveyed the belt.

It was after ten minutes that Childe realized there might be a problem. At the fifteen minute mark, he decided to quit his optimism and headed to the nearest desk.

“We’ll contact you when we find it, sir,” informed the employee. “We apologize for the inconvenience.”

Childe bit his tongue. It wasn’t her fault. “Thank you,” he exhaled, giving a small smile before walking away in a manner that he hoped didn’t expose his exhaustion.

He settled on a bench as he recuperated, sighing before deciding to shrug it off. It wasn’t the end of the world, and while he was tired, it wasn’t like he couldn’t easily buy everything new – even in New York. If the universe pitied him, maybe he’d get a good story out of it too.

[Tartaglia: Missing luggage but never missing a day]

Childe posted a screenshot of Befall’s mobile screen, his dailies confirmed by several green checkmarks.

The airport kept bustling as Childe sat off to the side, playing Befall because there wasn’t anything better to do.

Five minutes after posting, Childe received a DM.

[Zhongli: Is everything alright? If your luggage is missing, you can borrow mine. I arrived yesterday.]

People bustled past Childe and he pulled his legs in. Adjusting himself, he straightened.

[Tartaglia: It’s just a few things]

[Zhongli: I tend to over-pack.]

Childe tilted his head.

[Zhongli: And there is a sushi place nearby, I hear it’s family run.]

He laughed to himself under the noise of the airport.

[Zhongli: If you’d like.]

Attached to the text was a Map link to Zhongli’s hotel.

For a moment, Childe thought it over. After a moment, he didn’t know why he did. Hesitation was never his style. Childe cracked his neck and grabbed his carry-on, tapping into the link on his way to the doors. He’d only seen Zhongli a few weeks ago, but since then, it felt like forever.

He almost regretted taking a cab. It smelled like cigars and sweat in contrast to the fresh showers outside.

When he stepped out and tipped generously, he happily took a breath despite the light, cool mist hanging in the air. It was chilling but grounding. He paid mind to walk over the water pooling at the side of the curb and rustling down the drain. The streets were swollen with people, even so late into the evening.

Glancing at the Map to confirm it was the right room, Childe knocked on Zhongli’s door, his boots dampening the carpet by a shade. To his surprise, it didn’t take a minute for Zhongli to answer.

His hair seemed messy, as though he’d woken up not long ago, a few soft strands falling loose and limp. He was in his nightwear. His head tilted down only slightly to meet Childe’s eyes as he held the door, his brows closer together by a fraction.

“Are you alright?” Is the first thing Zhongli says, paced and levelled as always.

For two seconds, Childe felt winded. His hair was slightly damp and his shoulders were weighted. He thought for a beat before tilting his head to the side and laughing. “I’m alright.”

Zhongli seemed to relax slightly at that, his brows softening. He gave Childe a brief look once-over. “I’m glad. Please, come in.” He stepped to the side. He didn’t take Childe’s carry-on, and it surprised Childe how much that fact flattered him. Childe could carry his own bags, as ironic as it was to the situation.

“You don’t skimp, do you, Zhongli?” Childe says when the door is shut and Zhongli is opening his own suitcase.

“It’s only fitting to visit the heart of the city upon first arrival,” Zhongli explained. “Even if it is further away from the convention hall.”

Childe looked over at him, sorting through his belongings on his bed. The rest of the apartments were sleeping and silent.

The ginger didn’t have to say a word for Zhongli to understand. Without looking over, Zhongli shook his head. “It’s quite alright. Rather, I’m glad to get to see you so soon.” He said it naturally, but there was still a slight tension to his brow when he turned to Childe. He didn’t look upset, but Childe couldn’t place what it was.

He walked to Zhongli and his eyes half-heartedly roamed the open suitcase. “I’m glad too. Thank you, Zhongli.”

The ex-pro seemed to tense for a moment, possibly in confusion, before exhaling an amused breath and waving a hand. “There is no need for thanks.”

Before Childe could talk back, Zhongli bumped his shoulder lightly against Childe’s, then turned to the small but expensive kitchenette.

Childe felt his heart flutter unfairly, panging a bit thereafter. The carpet was soft under his soles when he turned to look at Zhongli’s back.

“I chose the articles that would fit you best, but you may take anything else you need as well. That includes any applicable chargers and toiletries.” Zhongli leaned against the couch with freshly brewed tea in hand.

Shaking his head, Childe waved him off. “I’m okay. I’m sure they’ll locate the luggage soon enough. If anyone, I’m probably the best person this could have happened to.”

“And tonight? Do you have a hotel booked?”

“Ah, tonight?” Childe bit his lip. He thought more about visiting Zhongli than planning what's after. “I’ll call up a hotel now. It’s New York, right?” He tagged on a laugh out of habit.

Zhongli tilted his head to the side with an unimpressed brow. “Stay with me tonight.”

The hotel seemed much quieter for a moment. Childe shifted on his feet. “No need, you've already helped me a lot.”

“It makes more sense. There’s an hour until midnight and you’ll have to drive or walk all the way to wherever you find, if anywhere at all. As you said, it is New York, and we are not the only ones here for events.” Zhongli sipped his tea with closed eyes. “My room is more than spacious.”

“... f*ck, really?” Childe’s language was getting worse with every match of COD he loaded into. “I’m sure there’s at least one place open…” he trailed, unlocking his phone with one hand as he began to search. His heart was beating too fast and he focused on keeping his expression still.

“Is staying with me that distasteful?”

“What?” Childe looked up to see Zhongli making a face close to a frown. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Then why go through the trouble? Of course, if you’re uncomfortable, it can’t be helped.” Perhaps it was the gentle lighting, but Zhongli looked as disappointed as he did surrendered.

Cars inched by outside the window as Childe stood with Zhongli's clothes in hand. He thought about it a moment longer before leaning his weight on one leg and frowning, his heart quickening further. “I’ll stay, but I’m sending you the night’s cost. How much is it?”

By the time Childe finished showering, Zhongli was still sitting on the couch with his tea, a new cup poured and steaming. He played leisurely on his phone.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I’ll rest soon.”

The ginger finished towelling his hair and tossed the cloth into the hamper. “Mn.” He joined Zhongli, sitting in the chair opposite of him.

Now Zhongli looked up. “Aren’t you tired, or hungry?”

“That flight ruined my appetite. I’ll sleep a bit later.”

“Relax on the bed until then.”

“What do you mean?” Childe furrowed his brows. “It’s twelve at night, I’m not having this debate with you, Zhongli. You’re taking the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“This is my hotel room.” Zhongli frowned.

“Not if I cover the bill,” Childe smirked. “Take the bed, old man.”

The tea was set down on a coaster. Zhongli smiled. “Do you care to see what this old man can do?”

“Throw it at me,” dared Childe. The fresh shower had already woken him up.

Brushing himself off as he stood, Zhongli placed his phone on the coffee table and came to Childe, eclipsing the overhead light.

Childe’s confusion was cut off as Zhongli reached over and picked Childe up from the back of his legs, hanging him over his shoulder.

“Wait, wait,” Childe grinned helplessly, feeling his stomach flip. His bangs fell and exposed his forehead. “You’re not winning this way!” He patted Zhongli’s back, kicking his legs. He almost forgot he was wearing Zhongli’s pyjamas, softer than his own and tighter around the shoulders. “Come on, let's wrestle,” he laughed.

With a plop, Zhongli put Childe onto the king-sized bed, smiling in an abandoned way that Childe hadn’t seen before. Childe smiled breathlessly back as he hooked his foot behind Zhongli’s leg, then pulled himself onto his forearms. “Do you really want to do this?” He asked, panting breaths of laughs. His heart beat against his ribs.

Zhongli's smile didn't fall but faltered, biting his cheek as he paused. Abruptly, he looked down, closed his eyes and released a steady breath. “Truly, please, take the bed.”

Nothing came out of Childe's mouth when he opened it, the shift in tone almost enough to make him agree. Childe tilted his head, serious. It only took a thirty-second clip from his livestreams to know he was stubborn. “Take the bed or I'll take a cab.”

Zhongli met his eyes again, expression twisted with distaste. “That is unfair.”

“Then take the bed.”

“Guests should never sleep on the couch. Especially after a long flight.”

“Then sleep with me,” Childe demands, and quickly feels heat rise to his cheekbones.

Zhongli bit his tongue and furrowed his brows softly for a moment. He didn’t seem to like the idea, and it almost killed the heat on Childe’s skin.

The ginger regretted staying and fought every doubt he had before repeating, sternly, “Take the bed or I’ll take the cab.” He ignored the obvious fact that no hotel in the heart of New York City would be vacant at midnight.

For another stretching moment, Zhongli thought with a tight expression before nodding in defeat, rather displeased. “Alright.”

Childe wrestled down the uneasiness in his chest when Zhongli moved away to turn off the overhead lights and switch on the bedside lamp, retrieving his phone from the living room. When Zhongli came back, the uneasiness easily rose again.

Zhongli lifted the corner of the blanket nearest to himself, then looked to Childe in confusion. His expression was still strict. “Even if you are going to stay up, please relax. Are you too hot?”

Shaking his head, Childe forced himself up and lifted his side of the covers as well. As Zhongli got under them, Childe did too. It was a large bed even though they were two grown men, offering space between them. Zhongli took his travelling and hotels seriously, it seemed.

Even with AXIS opened on his phone, Zhongli sat right beside him. In less than ten minutes, Childe gave up and decided that blocking Zhongli from his view altogether would be best.

Childe lowered himself and rolled onto his side, back facing Zhongli. “You can turn off the light whenever you want, I can sleep with or without it,” he offered.

Zhongli hummed, the sound seeming much lower in the dim light. Childe trampled the rising feelings down once more. He was tired, honestly. Moreover, he knew Zhongli must’ve been too. From how he looked, Childe guessed Zhongli was sleeping before texting Childe.

In a minute, Zhongli flicked the lamp off, leaving them in the darkness aside from the small crack of curtains. “Let me know if you need anything throughout the night,” Zhongli insisted. “I can call room service if you would prefer more blankets and pillows as well.”

“All good,” Childe tried a smile, but faltered when he looked over his shoulder to Zhongli. He had yet to lay down and was leaned against the headboard, meeting Childe’s gaze when he looked up. His heart stuttered in his throat. Zhongli’s hair draped loosely over his shoulders.

Reassured, Zhongli hummed again, and only then did he shift, relaxing down into the covers. Gladly, Childe turned back to his side.

Zhongli wasn’t a loud breather in the slightest. If Childe didn’t know better, he wouldn’t even think Zhongli was there. He tried telling himself that, shutting his eyes and feeling thankful that Zhongli didn’t move much either. Only after a minute did Childe remember to speak, talking into the dark. “Ah, and I should mention,” he started, keeping his voice on the quieter side. “I’m an aggressive sleeper. If I punch you or anything, just kick me off the bed.”

A pause came. Soon enough, Zhongli laughed gently, barely trying to muffle it. “Alright. Good night, Childe.”

“Good night,” he repeated. Hearing the soft sound of agreement to follow, whatever tension there was slipped away. The moment sunk into the room. The clothes he wore were soft where his arm rested under his cheek.

It surprised him how quickly his weariness set in. The bed was comfortable and their neighbours were silent. After his long flight and busy night after, Childe felt his breathing even out before dropping deep, his limbs loose and comfortable.

It was too soon that he fell asleep, his brows only somewhat tense.

The moonlight seeping in was just as dark as when they first drifted off, so when Zhongli fluttered his eyes open, he figured it couldn’t be later than three in the morning. He quickly located the discomfort he felt, thinking for a moment before realizing it was Childe’s knee digging into his back.

He shifted closer towards the edge of the bed only to feel Childe shift behind him as well. After a second, a hand pulled weakly at the back of Zhongli’s shirt.

Zhongli ignored it well enough until the hand wandered into his hair, tugging lightly. He humoured himself with a slight smile when Childe tugged again, lithe fingers playing at the strands. This qualified as ‘aggressive’? Zhongli let out a light breath of a laugh, quietly, when the hand wandered up to his nape, then neck. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. But as his cold fingers ghosted just under his earlobe, Zhongli’s breath faltered.

Childe’s lithe fingers rested loosely at the side of his neck, almost touching his jaw. It was cooling and grazing, and Zhongli tried to focus on his own breathing and the darkness of the room. He wondered briefly what Childe dreamed about and what he might be fighting. Did he imagine himself as the characters in games, shooting guns and firing mythical weapons?

After two minutes, Zhongli thought he’d gotten used to Childe when his knee suddenly dipped lower, pressing into the nook of his lower back. Meanwhile, his other leg butted over Zhongli's. Since when could COD characters use restraining skills? Zhongli looked over his shoulder, watching Childe take deep, slowed breaths, his face one of concentration. Childe pulled on his hair again, harder this time.

Zhongli stared for a moment. His hands’ dexterity must be wonderful to be so skilled. Quick reflexes were one of the highest priorities for E-sports of any kind. APM, or Actions per Minute, was the term. As if reading his thoughts, Childe tugged his hair once more, his hands getting tangled in it. Childe’s leg tightened over his.

“Left… Zhongli,” he mumbled.

Zhongli would’ve huffed a laugh had he not glanced at the expression on Childe’s face, determined but mused by sleep. His mouth was slightly agape. Then he felt Childe’s other hand wrap around his waist and splay over his lower stomach.

When Childe grunted and sighed, pulling Zhongli closer, Zhongli frowned and shut his eyes tight. He quietly shifted, slipping from under Childe’s hold to sit up.

Not surprisingly, Childe didn’t flinch, only gripping his hands into the bedsheets instead. Zhongli looked back and forth between Childe and the bed for a moment, then slowly stood and made his way to the couch.

— — —

The windows did enough to fill the room with gentle light, still cloudy outside, but not any darker than the day before. Childe woke up with ruffled hair and the bedsheets were a mess as always.

Childe stretched wide against the bed before sitting up, not bothering to cover his yawn as he scratched his armpit. To his surprise, the first thing he sees is Zhongli seated on the couch, head bent forward. Hurriedly, Childe got himself out of bed.

When he got closer, he found Zhongli asleep while sitting. His head only slightly bowed over himself. Admittedly, he had good posture for being knocked out.

Zhongli rustled and Childe immediately doubled in guilt. Drowsy, Zhongli blinked the sleep away slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders tensing.

Childe quickly imagined the worst. “What happened? Did I kick you out?”

“No, I'm alright.” Zhongli grumbled with a rough morning voice. He held up a hand in insistence.

Childe came closer and knelt in front of Zhongli, unable to think about how Zhongli sounded. “Did I hurt your wrist?”

The older man paused, recognition filling his gaze. He squinted his eyes from the morning light and looked hard at Childe in contemplation. “You only pulled it a bit.”

“f*ck,” Childe exhaled. He's wide awake now. “I'm sorry. Do you want me to massage it again?”

Zhongli's mouth hangs open for a second before it closes and he gives a small hum, looking away. He finishes rubbing his eye and leans against the back of the couch, legs splayed wide. Childe sits beside him, one leg crossed under himself.

Childe easily but gently takes Zhongli's right hand, examining it for a moment before working his fingers into the curves of his palm. The skin is slightly paler on the bottom of his hand compared to the top even if gloves usually cover them.

“f*ck, I’m really sorry.”

Zhongli refused to meet his gaze, hanging his head to the side. “It is alright. I was sprawled too far across the bed, myself.”

Childe bit his tongue. They sat in silence for a while, barely hearing their neighbours thump around.

When Childe reached his wrist, a low and quiet groan slipped past Zhongli's throat.

Immediately, Childe halted. His reflexes were really too trained. “Was that too hard?”

“No.” Zhongli let his eyes close, though his face was tense. “You're doing well.”

“Mn,” Childe choked, staring at him for a moment longer before his gaze fell back to his hand.

It took a few minutes before Childe could subtly glance up from under his lashes again and notice Zhongli’s expression relax.

The slit of sun coming in landed across Childe's thigh, gradually warming it. He wasn't sure how long had passed when Zhongli curled his fingers and shifted, tilting his tired head to him and giving a small smile. He looked utterly relaxed, if not a bit helpless.

“Thank you, Childe.”

“Ah,” he met Zhongli’s amber eyes. “Of course. Next time, just push me off the bed instead.”

Once again, Zhongli's hand covers Childe's for a moment, his hold tightening for a second in thanks before disappearing completely. Zhongli nodded as he stood.

Before the blush on his cheeks became too noticeable, Childe excused himself to the washroom, splashing cold water down his face. He only paused for a moment when he caught up to himself. He could've sworn he turned the bathroom light off after his shower.

Still in his nightwear, Zhongli spoke up from the kitchen. “What would you fancy for breakfast? The restaurant I mentioned last night is open by now. Or, there's always room service.”

“I want to stretch my legs. Let's go out.”

“Mn,” nodded Zhongli. “In that case, I'll shower before we do. I won’t be long.”

Childe hummed, already grabbing clothes for himself from on top of the suitcase. As he started taking his shirt off, he heard the door to the bathroom click closed.

There was a knock on the door that caught Childe’s attention. He was killing time in the living room after changing and making the bed just to busy himself, waiting for the bathroom. He got up to check it out, only for a quieter knock to come from his right when he opened the front door. There wasn't anyone in the halls.

He frowned when he realized it came from their own bathroom. “Yeah?” Childe asked through the door.

From the other side, Zhongli cleared his throat. “Would you hand me my clothes, please? I seemed to have forgotten them in my hurry. I must be too hungry.”

A light laugh left Childe, although his cheeks heated slightly. “Sure, which ones?”

“Any will do.”

Childe did as asked and picked clothes randomly from the suitcase. Most of his clothes were in the same colour family, so Childe didn't worry about it looking stupid. Zhongli could probably pull it off anyway.

This time, Childe knocked on the door. After a few seconds, Zhongli responded, turning the knob and opening the door halfway.

He'd wrapped a towel around his waist as his hair dripped down his shoulders, but with his height, the towel only reached to the top of his calves. Although Zhongli wasn't as broad as Childe's, his shoulders were fit and lean and his collar bones were defined. “Thank you,” he nodded as he accepted the clothes.

Childe barely noticed when his eyes dragged to his toned stomach, nodding half-mindedly until Zhongli let out an amused laugh and smiled. It shook Childe's attention and Zhongli politely shut the door a moment after, barely giving Childe a chance to catch the small grin on his face.

“Do people eat seafood for breakfast?”

“In China, it's more common.”

Childe stretched as they walked between the busy sidewalks. “Let's find somewhere else,” Childe said after a moment. The traffic light flicked red and they started crossing. “There's no point going to a place you don't like. There's a café over there, let's check it out.”

Zhongli hesitated before agreeing, but Childe was already walking where he pleased.

“Aether should be in the area too by now. Same with Xiao and Venti, if they want to make it for tomorrow.”

“You all surprise me by not arriving sooner.”

It was true that a day or two was cutting it close in case of flight delays and more, but that wasn’t enough reason to stop Childe from his habits. He couldn't stream while travelling and he travelled enough that it didn't feel too special of an event for him, so there wasn’t any need to extend the time away any more. Plus, in the event of Befall's convention, his flight was already planned and paid for.

They settled at a nearby table after placing their orders. Needless to say, the baristas stared at them for a moment longer even after they left the line. They were two tall, good-looking men, and Childe hadn't considered how well their clothes would match. Distantly, Childe caught an employee giggle to another.

Part-way through their small breakfast of sandwiches and pastries, Childe pulled out his phone to read through his notifications. He hadn't taken a moment to look over them since the day before. As expected, there were threads upon threads discussing the panel's lineup.

Some viewers speculated that Childe studied Venti and Zhongli's playstyles, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Most content creators barely held any ground with events such as these, and Childe truly only discovered his opponent and comrade through COD’S AXIS post. When it came to Zhongli, Childe didn't bother researching more than he already knew, simply because that boring strategy talk was never his taste.

It was another reason why Childe refused to go pro. There were too many formalities and restrictions on in-game performance as well as general online behaviour. He only signed a contract with HARBINGERS since theirs was so infamously loose.

Exactly on-topic, Childe came across one of Scaramouche's posts. Childe was only scrolling half-mindedly while Zhongli tasked himself with appreciating New York's rotting streets more than any person ever had. His attention only honed in enough to punch out a reply with a grin.

[SScaramouche: Almost wish I'd flown out to see Zhongli kick Tartaglia's ass in-person]

[Tartaglia: As my oldest fan, I'll give you first row seats to see me win [winking.jpeg]]

As soon as Childe replied, Zhongli's phone buzzed. With a sh*t-eating smile, Childe looked up. “You keep my notifications on?”

Zhongli turned his attention from the window. He swallowed his bite. “Of course.”

Met with his honesty, Childe felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Ah, thanks.”

“About the sweater,” Zhongli began, and Childe's chest tightened. He had seen his repost after all. “You may keep it, if you'd like. It is one of the items I thought would fit you.”

“Oh,” Childe laughed, wishing cafés had larger tables. “Thanks, then. It's probably nicer on you though.”

Zhongli's expression sharpened in mild surprise before melting back down, gentle and glad.

Abruptly, it was Childe's phone that buzzed next, still resting upright on the table.

[SScaramouche: Kill yourself.]

— — —

To Childe's surprise, after wasting time around New York and spending the rest of it on long calls with the airport, Zhongli didn't argue when he decided to find a hotel at the end of the day. His luggage still wasn't expected until noon the next day, so they'd bought some underwear and a bag that Childe put his borrowed items in.

At the clothing store, it had been Zhongli's turn to stare at his phone.

— — —

[Aether: I'm beat]

[Tartaglia: Just come tomorrow. The con's three days, just skip today]

[Aether: Buy I want to see the match live. If I watch it from the stream, the chat will spam too many thirsting Emotes to focus]

[Tartaglia: Fair enough. I'm pretty popular for my looks, they say]

[Aether: Not you, for Zhongli]

[Aether: And I bet half of those Emotes are from you, so don't say a word]

Childe deleted what he'd typed.

[Tartaglia: Meet me at the front doors then. I'll be with Zhongli, so just look for two handsome, tall men]

He didn't get a reply.

Still, when Childe arrived with Zhongli, Aether found them shortly anyway. “Hey,” Aether greeted. His braid was messier today.

“Perfect timing,” waved Childe. He waited a moment as Aether scanned him up and down, then explained, “Zhongli let me borrow it.”

The sweater he wore today was the one Zhongli had reposted. It was just as soft as it looked and it fit well around Childe’s strong frame. For a minute, Childe had wondered if he should go without it, but something in him wanted to wear it out. His luggage wouldn't come for another hour, anyway.

“Ah,” Aether nodded, although he didn't look much more relieved. “Let's check in then.”

Zhongli hummed and they followed the shorter man, entering before the lineup with their Creator Passes. As they stepped inside, Zhongli debated wearing his mask, ultimately letting it slide. With a pass around his neck, two other streamers with him, and an anticipated panel, it wouldn't help much.

“Xiao's pissed he couldn't book a flight with Zhongli,” Aether laughed, pocketing his phone.

“Is he?” The man in question turned his focus from the artist's booth to the blonde. Concern and doubt rested on his face. “Xiao never mentioned that to me,” he frowned.

“He just looks up to you; I'm sure he'd follow you everywhere if he could,” Childe laughed and clapped him on the back.

Aether threw a look his way and the ginger tilted his head and shrugged in response. He wasn't standing that close to Zhongli, and it was only because fans approached the man so easily. Thankfully, the nearby security already helped, and they were quickly making their way through the alley.

At a certain point of attending conventions, Childe stopped caring about posters and pins, but Zhongli never seemed to lose interest even after all his years. When he said he wanted to take a quick walk through, Childe couldn't say no.

In his contemplation over Xiao, Zhongli held a hand to his chin. Only after a few moments did Zhongli look up by the colourful banner of a booth.

“This artist, I recognize them,” Zhongli turned to Childe. He didn't bother lowering his voice, many people already chatting loudly around the booth.

Childe and Zhongli could see over most of the people. When Childe squinted and let out a hum of realization, Aether tried looking around the few people in front of them. “What is it?” Asked Aether.

“I believe their name refers to humanoid beings, a homunculus. Although they started with fanarts, they eventually established a committed clientele and now illustrate for novel covers and billboards. Quite recently, I read an interview of his. Despite his success, illustration isn't his full-time job.” Zhongli seemed pleased to have someone ask him.

“Oh,” Aether nodded. “Albedo.”

“You know him?” Childe stared at the bustling table.

“He invited me over for coffee once.”

Childe shook his head hopelessly. It reminded him of Teucer telling him about a new kid at school every day.

Childe cast a glance to Zhongli. “Do you want his autograph?”

Suddenly, determined interest glimmered in Zhongli's deep, solid eyes. He rotated his wrist subtly. “Could we?”

Without a thought, Childe walked into the line. “I'll pay,” he smiles.

When they reach the front, Albedo's eyes soften on Aether's and the illustrator smiles. “It's been a while. I wasn't aware you'd be in the city.”

“You're Albedo?” Childe stares.

The man's eyes float up to his, tilting his neck. “Ah, you were the person who offered your seat. Thank you,” Albedo nodded.

Zhongli smiled contentedly between them while gears turned in Aether's head.

“I thought you didn't know Albedo.” Aether quirked his head.

“I didn't, but we happened to catch the same flight. And don't sweat it,” Childe faces their new friend again. “As long as she enjoyed the flight too.”

The man smiled warmly and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Klee?” Aether thinks aloud.

“Mn,” nodded Albedo. “She's with Kaeya right now.”

Aether gave a sorry look and Albedo grimaced slightly through his smile. “Regardless, how can I help you?”

“I would like A5, A7, and C1.” Zhongli pointed to each poster and chain. He gestured to one of the hardcover novels stacked on the table last. “This as well, please. And if you could, I would deeply appreciate a signature for your efforts.”

Albedo smiled somewhat wider. “It would be my pleasure.”

The items were sealed in thin plastic folders and bags, handed to Zhongli. Even as Albedo insisted it was free for friends, Childe handed him double the cost and made room for the next customers before he could argue.

“I'll come by later to catch up,” Aether promised as they left.

Helplessly, Albedo nodded, greeting the next customer.

They almost made it out of the Artist Alley when two boys walked up to them, not much younger than Aether. At the same time, Aether's phone started ringing.

“Rex, right?” One of the boys asked. “Dude, is it chill if we take a picture?”

Zhongli waved off the security at the side, who were becoming more vigilant as the afternoon rush began flooding in. “Of course. Go on, Aether, we can meet up later.”

“Are you sure?”

Zhongli nodded and insisted some more, and Aether resigned.

“Just give me a text,” the blonde settled on.

Soon, Zhongli was leaning down, taking a picture with the young men. After a minute, the boys grinned with their phones and stepped away. “Thanks, man.”

It surprised Childe when one of them turned to him. “Picture?” The boy asked uncertainly.

A bright laugh left Childe. “Sure.” He took the kid’s phone to snap a shot before handing it back, shifting Zhongli's bag in his hands while doing so.

They were stopped once more on their way to the panel's backstage, and it was fairly relieving once they neared the door to the event. Because of her popularity and COD’s initiative to bring in new players from other games, Keqing was the host of the panel, and she’d Emailed them which room to come to.

Because the panel hadn't started yet, this area of the building was much quieter. It almost felt like they’d left the convention.

Just before entering the room, a group of three people exited. An eagle-eyed man, one with a catty grin, and a tall lady in blue picking at her nails.

One of them, with his crossed arms pillowing his head, stopped in his tracks. His pleasant green eyes widened upon seeing the two near, and Childe stopped chatting. “Dude, good luck,” the boy nodded to Zhongli. Then he turned to Childe and smirked. “Teach him a lesson.”

The man with crimson hair rolled his eyes. “He means to say, he admires what you've done for the FPS community, and he's glad you're back in the scene. And Tartaglia, he's seen your clips.”

The short man stuck out his tongue in a cheeky smile and kept walking on, the woman huffing in amusem*nt as they left. The last one to follow was the redhead, giving a restrained but apologetic look. They walked to the sidelines, similar to Zhongli and Childe, the woman's heels clacking.

After a moment, realization dawned on him, and Childe recognized the three as up-and-coming professionals. Heizou, signed to SHOGUN with Thoma, known for being witty and quick in the emerging COD scene. Yelan, signed by Ninnguang herself, with a reputation as a sharpshooter, and Ragnvindr who was famous for a blunt playstyle.

It was no secret that Zhongli was famous, but hearing their praise, the reality settled into Childe's bones. He was facing off against Zhongli, the God.

Surprisingly, when Childe looked inside, Keqing wasn’t there. Briefly, he considered if it was the wrong room, but Zhongli wouldn’t make such a mistake.

“Come in,” a silver-haired man insisted from inside, looking up from his company. Xiao stared briefly at Zhongli when they entered, then shifted his gaze to the side.

“We're just getting set up,” the man continued. “Keqing went to retrieve a back-up headset since one of ours malfunctioned. Barbatos is…” he scanned the wide room. “He should be nearby. I'm Al Haitham, one of the organizers of this event, and Keqing’s co-host.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Zhongli courteously shook his hand. His hair draped when he bowed his head. “Thank you for organizing this.”

“Mn,” Al Haitham nodded. “Not an issue. Now, there isn't much more to do than wait, but I encourage you two to buy something to drink before we begin. We'll have the audience come in thirty minutes or so. Speak with me if you have any troubles before the match.”

Compared to this man, Childe noted, Zhongli seemed much warmer. Childe turned to him, “Want me to get you anything?”

“Water would be nice. Any brand will do.”

“Mn,” Childe agreed. “Xiao?” The shorter man looked surprised, then frowned and shook his head, mumbling a quiet thanks. Before leaving, out of impulse, Childe squeezed Zhongli's hand in his. “I'll be back soon.”

When he noticed Zhongli's eyes widened by a fraction in his peripherals, Childe grinned and started away. His own heartbeat was quickening.

Taking his drinks from the vending machine, Childe uploaded the post.

[Tartaglia: Get ready]

— — —

[Purplewatermelonss: sh*t sh*t sh*t IT'S REALLY ABOUT TO HAPPEN]

[BroadSwordLone: Tartaglia's gotten better these days, I'm confident]

[Imjokinggeez: Tartaglia's ranked high in most FPS domestic servers, he just hops between different games so often that he doesn't keep up his rank]

[REXfan001: Of course, the person nicknamed God will win]

[MWghostluvr: I don't care who wins as long as the stream includes facecams. Who cares if they can play well when they're already models [laughing.jpeg]]

[AK69_: God Zhongli for the W]

[KennedyL: Idiots out here are more excited about some random fighting Zhongli. Does no one care about Xiao, his own student, finally having a chance to face off against his teacher?]

[Brrrright_: Xiao and Zhongli haven’t streamed together in ages, though…]

[Yuulooked: Does anyone have watch-party recommendations? I don't know enough about COD to watch solo]

[Sniper_firee: For the new watchers, just know that this is the first time Zhongli has ever accepted a competitive match since he retired.]

[Justwatchmyplaystyle: For newer watchers, just know that winning against Zhongli could be enough to gain the title of a “God”]

— — —

“Thank you, everyone, for your time today. We'll be kicking off right away with this much anticipated battle after a few short words from the players,” Al Haitham said. He stood centre-stage next to Keqing, who flipped her smile on like a switch. Just moments before, off-stage, she was nearly steaming out the ears at whoever mis-handled the headsets.

A large screen was mounted in the middle of the stage, above the players’ heads, displaying one player’s screen at a time. Zhongli had told Childe that Al Haitham was an events manager for League of Legends, and the man’s comfort in spending such a high budget was clear. Despite sitting on stage with the introductions underway, Childe found his thoughts straying, thinking of the scene. He’d entertained the thought of joining the League of Legends community because of its mass popularity, but of all E-sports, it required a lot of teamwork.

Childe sighed, cracking his neck.

Meanwhile, a mic was handed to Xiao. “What does this match mean to you?” Keqing asked.

“To improve my skills against someone I admire. I have never had this opportunity in a formal setting before, and I’m honoured to accept it now.”

“As expected from a hand-picked prodigy of Rex- Zhongli,” Keqing coughed. “And Tartaglia?”

“Of course, to prove I'm the best.”

The wide crowd gave mixed responses, many booing and some loudly cheering to make up for it. It wasn't just immature to state you were better than a God, but arrogant.

Keqing was clearly straining to uphold her smile, her expression close to exhaustion. “That’s an admirable attitude to have. What about yourself?” She turned to Venti, stepping closer to hand him the mic. It was clear that she, like everyone else, was confused as to what name Venti preferred since he never officially changed his username. And in the gaming sphere, even teammates of several years would call each other by their in-game tags.

Venti giggled, as if waiting for the question. It wasn't a secret that he took a shot just minutes before coming on stage. “For old times’ sake, to play with my teammate again. Although, I still think this would be more fun if you'd accepted my wine idea. Just a few bottles.”

“Alright,” Al Haitham staged a smile that no one would believe. “Perhaps next time we can consider it. Last but not least, what are your thoughts at this moment, Zhongli? This match must hold meaning to you, with your long-awaited return to the competitive scene.”

The God wrapped his elegant, dexterous hands around the body of the microphone, looking out at the audience with practiced ease. “Of course, to prove who is the best.” At the tail-end of his sentence, his gaze shifted to Childe.

In half a second, the crowd was awed, and it only took a short pause before they were chattering and wooing. It wasn't as loud as a real stadium, but with the lights overhead and faraway walls, it almost felt that way. Fondly, Zhongli smiled directly at Childe. His smile deepened slightly when he caught the pink tinge rising on his opponent's cheeks.

“Strong words from both sides. If you're watching online, please vote in the pole which side you stand with. Now, without any time to waste, let's kick off our Call of Duty: Modern Warfare panel with Round One of Match One. Best of three matches wins. Players, take a moment to adjust your settings and join the custom lobby.”

Eager clapping and shouts filled the room, and before Childe knew it, he felt nerves buzzing from his forearms down to his fingertips. He put on his noise-cancelling headset alongside the other players, then sat straight with his controller and clicked through the settings in seconds.

Online, the watchers were just as anxious as those in the room.

[Teach him a lesson, Zhongli]

[About time!! [clapping.jpeg]]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

[You got it, Tartaglia!]

[Tartaglia takes this, easy]

[Water off Zhongli’s back]

[Wait, hold up]

[Is that Zhongli's sweater?]

[???]

[Look!! Zhongli’s choosing a skin!]

[Ripcord? Since when does Zhongli buy COD skins?]

[Probably since he got sponsored by them…]

[I watched all his streams and he doesn’t buy anything. He tried buying something once and failed]

[How do you fail??]

[Then is it a gift?]

[Yeah, as if Zhongli would accept gifts from randoms. Get a reality check.]

It wasn’t an official match in a pro league, but technically, players couldn’t look at their teammates’ screens once the competition began. In fact, they weren’t even allowed to turn their heads. But Childe didn’t care, and he subtly shot Xiao a glance before flicking his gaze back to his own screen. They hadn’t had a chance to practice, presumably because it could be considered a casual fight by COD standards, so Childe had to guess how Xiao would play based on what little he knew.

The ginger thought for a few seconds, his fingers finding their positions on the controller. After another second, he selected a random character and skin. With little to no hesitance, he clicked into the lobby.

Excitement made his blood run faster, tingling under his skin as his palm began to sweat lightly on the plastic. Because of his stubbornness against pro-league formalities, he’d never had the chance to fight on a stage against another person. For the first time, there was a live audience, and his opponent was Zhongli himself.

“Is everyone ready?” Asked Al Haitham, met with the audience’s cheers. “Very well,” he nodded. “Round One will begin in 7… 6… 5…”

[4!]

[3! [Crying.jpeg]]

[2!!]

[This countdown is so childish]

[1!!]

[!!!!]

Suddenly, Childe’s character was plopped into the map. The Penthouse. Quickly, Childe whipped his view left to right as he entered the building, feeling his heartbeat build in his ears. Unlike during his streams, he wore his headphones tight and fitted, blocking outside noise completely. All he could hear were the shuffling footsteps of his character and quiet thumping nearby.

The Penthouse was a map with a self-explaining title. It featured a pool, firepit, lounge and gym, and Childe just so happened to spawn on the roof. It was pure luck, giving him a height advantage of wherever Zhongli spawned.

To his surprise, as he lumbered down the stairs, Xiao spoke into his mic. “Barbatos, 3 o’clock.”

Quickly, Childe dodged forward, tumbling away from the open doorway. His aim snapped to Venti before he even regained his footing, his scope staggering before zeroing in on the drunkard and directly shooting his head. He felt his pulse rise and skip a beat.

The instant Venti fell, Childe triumphed, barely biting back a whistle.

Then, before he even had the chance to leave the dead body, Childe’s screen went grey. Likewise, his brows tightened.

“Don’t you co-op with Zhongli often? You should know he waits for opportunities like those, when his opponents feel big-headed.” Xiao scoffed.

However, in the next instant, the screen faded to defeat before replaying Xiao’s death momentarily. He’d gotten shot from behind the lounge couch.

“Didn’t Zhongli scout you? He waits for opportunities like those, when his opponents feel big-headed,” Childe smirks.

The second round began without pause, quickly counting from seven to zero. Childe stretched and flexed his fingers over his controller before gripping it securely, eyes scanning the prison he was dropped into. It was a jail-house shower room with moulded tiles and dripping ceilings, and Childe reluctantly hid behind a wall as he searched the small area.

When he confidently ran across the clear coast in search, his screen dropped grey again. He bit back a curse when he saw Venti run away in spectator’s view, no doubt giggling. Not long after, despite taking Venti down, Xiao fell again.

Just as quickly as the round ended, the next one started, and Childe’s jaw set in focus. Immediately, he noticed Zhongli across the map and didn’t bother to hide as he nailed a shot straight to his head.

A single shot wasn’t enough, and Childe laughed lightly after Zhongli jaunted out from his cover and took another kill on Childe.

“Are you trying to die?” Xiao asked. “I can’t– f*ck. I can’t take both if you keep dying first,” he says as they lose the round.

“Hn,” Childe agreed.

Without a break, the fourth round started. This time, Childe skipped scanning, already familiar with Hill’s forestry. He hated the map, to be frank, since it offered too much opportunity for opponents to rat and hide.

Fortunately, Zhongli wasn’t like that.

Childe caught him as Zhongli rounded a tree, shooting while bolting to the side. Every player started with the same default gun and knife, meaning that the winner would usually come down to the better player instead of luck. Childe’s shoulders tensed as he forced his way into the few seconds of opportunity he had, and felt a rush as his screen remained colourful. Boldly, he shot a final time before the God fell.

Childe almost forgot to keep moving after he gained the kill.

“Barbatos your way,” Xiao gritted.

“Mn,” Childe nodded, quickly feeling a grin form on his lips. As Xiao shot their standing opponent, Childe assisted, and for once his screen glowed blue.

In the fifth round, Xiao took down Zhongli while Childe took Venti, and they were miraculously met by blue again. As the next round started, Childe laughed, daring a glance at Xiao’s seat from the corner of his eye. He looked conflicted between having won the round and beat his idol, caught between a gentle flush on his ears and a deathly pale complexion.

Childe looked over again once Zhongli won the following round. Somehow, Xiao’s expression still didn’t let up, as though losing was just as embarrassing.

After the tenth round, they were tied 5:5.

“You’re taking this seriously,” Venti teased in Zhongli’s headset. They were in separate teams, so naturally, Childe and Xiao couldn’t hear. “Why are you so into it?”

Zhongli sat without offering a word as the final round of the match began.

“You keep glancing up during the countdowns, too. What’s that about?”

“It’s only polite to treat all opponents with respect,” Zhongli chided as he dropped into the map, dodging from crate to crate.

“What, are you gonna confess in-game, too?”

Embarrassingly, Zhongli’s left hand shifted, positioning his character just slightly out of his cover. Almost immediately, he heard two loud shots from his left, and it was only his trained reflexes that saved him. If it weren’t for formalities, Zhongli would have thrown the regulations to sh*t and glared a hole through Venti. Instead, he rested his eyes and sat taller in his padded gaming chair. “Speak after the matches are done, Barbatos.”

“Oh, after the matches,” he drew the words out, giggling. “Gotcha.”

“Barbatos–” Zhongli cut himself off as he sprinted and took the opportunity to shoot twice at Xiao, barely dodging the shots that returned as his wrist momentarily cramped.

With three seconds on the clock, Venti succeeded in a few clean shots at Childe before Zhongli assisted to help him get the kill. Both of their screens faded to a final blue picture, the scores 6:5 displayed broadly. As soon as it appeared on the stage’s large monitor, the audience erupted in cheers, some cries just loud enough for Zhongli to hear faintly through his headphones. He couldn’t help but look up at Childe across from him, absent-mindedly rotating his wrist as he did.

To Zhongli's surprise and quiet pleasure, Childe wore a contained, proud smile, as if the loss only spurred him on. He still appeared in the zone, not sparing the audience a glance, hands steady on his controller. His brows were furrowed in determination, and thanks to the bright lighting, his eyes glinted.

Zhongli didn’t notice the noise as he smiled in return, even if Childe hadn’t looked up.

In the livestream, the viewers were furious, some happily and some not.

[!!!!]

[That sh*t was crazy]

[LETS GO [clapping.jpeg]]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

[Ngl I thought they were over after round three]

[Did someone clip that last shot of Tartaglia??]

[Why did that drag on so long]

[It’s only the first match, they can turn it around]

[Tartaglia must’ve cheated, you guys saw how he glanced at Alatus, right?]

[It looked like he just caught his face, though. He’d have to angle his head to see his screen without glare, there are lights to the left]

[And you need give him credit, Tartaglia’s positioning was crazy]

[Yeah, did you see his playstyle? Maybe his aim sucks, but he’s so quick, his bullets hit in the end]

[It’s like he’s using a rifle when he has a hand-gun]

[[Nodding.jeg]]

[[Nodding.jpeg]]

[You guys are way too invested in this, kinda cringe…]

[Don’t forget Alatus]

[Fr, he lives up to the name of God Zhongli’s hand-picked scout]

[Yeah, but Alatus plays competitively all the time. This is Tartaglia’s first game]

“As we load into Match Two, let’s take a moment to look at Alatus’ help throughout the mid-rounds,” Al Haitham gestured to the large screen, sitting next to Keqing at the centre-table. “He levelled the playing ground with his quick reflexes and agility, creating stability for Tartaglia to cut in. Their combination is unique, balancing two very aggressive playstyles.”

“Agreed, especially compared to Zhongli and Barbatos’ offensive approach,” Keqing nodded. A replay of one of Zhongli’s kills showed on the screen. “Zhongli takes a supportive role, staying towards the back, while Venti rushes through the obstacles with strong bursts. Their roles and coordination are clear, even if their communication seems to be lacking leading up to team-fights…”

Childe remained zoned into his screen, checking his settings and drumming his foot under the table. Only once he clicked into the lobby did he briefly glance up, ignoring the hosts’ moving mouths, at the man across from him.

He stole another second of Zhongli’s focused expression, eyes falling to the way his soft bangs framed his face. Then Childe straightened, eyes zoning back onto his screen, feeling his adrenaline rising.

With a Match Score of 1:0, Childe ruffled his messy bangs, rolling his chair closer. If they lost this match as well, it would be over. For a second, he considered taking a sip of water, but decided against it in case it took him out of his focus.

With forty second rounds, each match lasted less than fifteen minutes, but it felt inexhaustibly longer. The burn in his lungs made Childe want to play harder. Luckily, the second match began swiftly.

The instant Childe dropped into the doc of storage units, he darted to the left, knowing the corner he spawned in was ideal for getting ambushed. It was the first map he and Zhongli played, after all; of course it left an impression on him. Then, seconds after bolting, he felt his vision still as the tip of Zhongli’s gun came into view.

sh*t, Childe thought.

Zhongli took first blood, shortly followed by Venti. The first round was theirs.

“Run left,” Xiao instructed when they loaded into Round Two.

“And take cover like a coward?” Childe laughed and went right, straight into Venti’s view. He threw himself against the nearest cover, only to be shot twice and barely make it out. “Watch,” Chlide smirked as he no-scoped Venti, overly-confident from his hits on Childe. When Xiao took the opportunity to assist and finish the drunkard off, Childe’s smirk deepened. He heard a faint cheer through his headset.

Suddenly, Childe heard footsteps behind him and darted to the side with the reflexes only a younger player could have. Still, he heard bullets fired, and saw Xiao fall. His back was pressed against the wall, uncertain of where Zhongli had gone, when he turned to the left and was met by gun-point.

Before Xiao’s character finished bleeding out, Childe’s screen turned grey to match.

“Backwards,” Xiao said, and Childe listened this time. He remembered Zhongli’s tendency to spend too long in scope-view, and as he backed up to see the god, he took aim at his head and shot before he could move. Xiao assisted, and after Zhongli fell, they could tackle Venti.

In the ninth match, they needed one more win to break even, sitting 5:4. If Zhongli and Venti won this round, the match would be over, and Zhongli would win. If Childe and Xiao won, they would tie, forcing them into a final match once again.

They spawned into the Atrium. Childe frowned. Honestly, it wasn’t his favourite map. Unlike the others, it stood out as the interior of a grand cathedral, featuring a tree in the centre of limestone arcs. Of all the maps, despite being the cleanest, it felt the most unnerving, like they were somewhere they shouldn’t be when handling guns and bullets.

Childe started through the halls, the shiny floors like that of the museum Teucer described. But when he turned the corner, he suddenly sensed something was off. He couldn’t hear Venti nearby, and given the layout of the map, Venti could find the perfect position to snipe from the second floor. It meant that Xiao and Childe couldn’t use their new strategy of double-teaming Zhongli and picking off Venti after, as Venti could snipe either of them in the middle of the conflict, and Zhongli could easily take the other.

Knowing this, Xiao grunted, and Childe knew that meant he’d gone to hunt Venti. It was unspoken that while Xiao knew both Zhongli and Venti’s playstyles well, Childe only understood Zhongli’s, so it made the most sense for them to be paired as such.

Childe steadied his breath, listening to the quiet of the Atrium. Then, without looking, his ears perked and he dodged. His heartbeat was as quick as the ticking timer, and with a chill down his spine, he hurriedly turned the corner and shot again – only to be met by a vacant wall.

He threw caution to the wind, running away from all covers until he could finally spot Zhongli on the other side of a pillar. In less than a second, he pulled up his scope and put it back down, moving as fast as a professional, and fired twice. His heart thudded cold in his chest when Zhongli shot back, but Childe took advantage of his first attack. He levelled his scope again, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing as he traded shots with Zhongli.

As each bullet landed, Childe held his breath, the edges of his screen turning red before Zhongli finally fell. He rested behind a pillar as Xiao sucked in a breath and finally shot Venti out. Abruptly, the crowd began shouting in a mix of cheers and frustration.

The adrenaline was still pumping through Childe’s veins as the final round began, not giving him a chance to breathe. Him and Xiao could beat Zhongli and Venti, and they could advance to a tie-breaking Third Match.

The final round took place in the map called King, which Childe almost had to laugh at. The audience grew so loud when they spawned that Childe could hear it clearly through his headset.

“This will be the tie-breaker,” Keqing announced. “Despite their lack of notice for an event like this, these players have put up quite a fight on both sides. Tartaglia has shown his dexterity and focus during these games, as has the retired Zhongli, Venti, and prodigy Xiao.”

With the shouts of the audience, the final round began, and Childe ignored all cover. He briefly passed the crates and walls scattered throughout the warehouse until he spotted Venti and landed a single shot before the drunkard ducked and hid. Childe kept running, only to stop a metre away from Zhongli. By muscle-memory, Childe flicked his controller and shot twice, one bullet landing before Zhongli quickly adjusted.

To Childe’s surprise, instead of finding cover, Zhongli only moved to the side and shot right back, twice – both bullets hitting him hard as Zhongli landed two headshots in quick succession.

The confrontation was thrilling, and Childe wasn’t interested in running.

Once again, Venti was playing smart, forcing Xiao to distract or counter him while Childe took on Zhongli. Unfortunately, this map featured many staircases and crates, offering Venti many more places to snipe from. Likewise, that meant many more places for Xiao to search.

Quickly assessing the situation, Childe doubted his approach from the previous round would work. He only took Zhongli’s bullets head-on with the reassurance that he shot Zhongli first, meaning Zhongli would die first so long as Childe fired consistently and accurately.

This time, it seemed it would come down to the better aim – who could get the most precise shots on vitals.

Childe was never one to wait, so he fired first. Expectedly, Zhongli countered, but only for Childe to roll left with a flick of his joint-stick and deflect to his shoulder. His breath was bated as he turned quickly, sensing Zhongli's approach, and went against all better judgement to pull out his knife.

It made sense that in a mode called “Gunfight,” few players used knives. It wasn’t that they weren’t effective, but there was rarely an opportunity for it, especially when most maps favoured long-range shooting with covers and platforms.

Childe didn’t bother to reign in his smile as the unpredictability paid off, running by Zhongli in a flash, gouging into his arm and quickly dodging behind a wall as Zhongli turned to fire. He couldn’t see Zhongli’s health, but he knew it was low.

The crowd erupted, more pissed than anything by the sly move.

Half-mindedly, as Childe’s character heaved behind a crate, he glanced at the timer and smirked. As he did, the timer hit zero and they entered overtime.

Again, the audience hollered so loud, Childe realized why the panel room was so out of the way.

In Gunfight, when no players died in 40 seconds, an extra 10 seconds would be given. However, the goal was no longer to kill the other team, but to steal the flag that spawned randomly on the map. Overtime was an incredibly difficult stage to reach, and Childe could imagine Zhongli smiling in amusem*nt.

Childe grinned even co*ckier as he noticed the flag had spawned at the top of the platform in front of them, four sets of stairs coming off its four sides. “Xiao, at the–”

“Already here,” Xiao said from the other side of the stairs.

Zhongli wouldn’t break cover first with such low health, and Childe knew it. Childe started running first, keeping one eye on Zhongli’s position behind the steps.

Zhongli quickly gave chase and shot twice, Childe no-scoping a shot right back, neither of them wasting a second. Childe could vaguely see Xiao and Venti in a similar situation on the other side of the stairs.

Just as quickly as Childe aimed, Zhongli did as well, and they both shot just as the timer hit zero.

There was a delay before the crowd shouted again.

Childe’s hands were clenched on his controller and oxygen felt thin, but before looking at their scores, Childe looked up to find Zhongli staring right back.

Childe was grinning madly and bright.

Between the both of them, the large screen displayed a score of 6:5, Childe’s side illuminated in a searing red.

In Gunfight, when neither team captured the flag, the winning team would be the team with the most health remaining.

[sh*t!! I owe $50 now]

[Hell yeah! Always bet on Zhongli, baby]

[THAT FACE OFF]

[Zhongli only had 10hp more]

[!!!!]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

[What the f*ck?]

[That was the stupidest and best match I’ve seen]

[ZHONGLI FOR THE WIN]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

[But you can see Zhongli's rubbing his wrist, if you squint. Was it really a fair match?]

[Imagine pulling a knife in a head-to-head face off]

[That knife might’ve worked here, but in a professional arena…]

[What do you mean “professional"? We have two of the best professionals in this match, right here]

[Insane performance from both sides, I don't know what you trash-talkers are on [laughing.jpeg]]

[BEST OF 5 LETS GO AGAIN]

“With Zhongli’s perfect aim for a headshot and Venti’s positioning in the early-game, Zhongli and Barbatos take the crown,” Al Haitham smiles. “If we replay the last four seconds, we’ll see…”

Even as Childe took off his headset, he didn’t listen to the hosts. His focus was still glued to Zhongli, who gladly smiled back, his eyes curving. The rest of the panel seemed uninteresting.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending the launch of Modern Warfare’s Cross-Creator Competition,” said Al Haitham. “We hope the participation of your favourite streamers will encourage you to try COD: Modern Warfare for yourselves.”

“Thank you,” Keqing smiled.

Childe nodded in agreement. He grinned as he stood up from his seat alongside the other players, leaning on the table as he waved thanks to the crowd, heartbeat still racing. He couldn’t help turning to Zhongli again, and it surprised him to discover Zhongli had never looked away to begin with.

As the crowd exited, so did the players from the stage, Childe following Xiao and Venti down the steps. Before Childe could look behind him – before putting both feet on the stairs – arms wrapped around his waist, and Childe knew from the limp in the right wrist that it was Zhongli.

Suddenly, it was like he was at gun-point again. Childe felt his heart beat up his throat and his forearms became fuzzy.

“You did wonderfully,” Zhongli said into his ear, eyes shut.

A million things were stuck in Childe’s throat, and he could only feel his knees going weak. “Zhongli.”

The man hummed, and the hair on the back of Childe’s neck stood straight. As Zhongli felt him stiffen, he squeezed him tighter for a moment, then let his arms rest loosely around his hips. He didn’t say anything, resting his chin on Childe’s shoulder.

It felt like Zhongli resigned something when he eventually released his hold. “Let’s hurry, we’re keeping the others waiting.”

Childe stared at his back before finding his footing and following. It was hot behind his ears.

“Thank you again for organizing this event,” Zhongli nodded as they started towards the door. After Al Haitham waved it off with a slight smile, Zhongli continued out, walking closely with Childe. With their proximity, Childe glanced down.

“How's your hand?” He asked. The panel lasted less than an hour, but Zhongli was clearly concentrating and gripping tightly the entire time.

Zhongli opened his mouth before closing it again, quickly pulling Childe behind him as his eyes darted to the side.

Just as he did, suddenly, Childe saw a fist flying towards him, barely caught in time by Zhongli's hand. Childe's senses heightened as he stared at the man who ran at him, struggling and cursing in Zhongli's hold. He was slightly shorter than the ginger but just as lean, and he smiled maniacally, refusing to look away from the ginger. “Who the f*ck do you think you are?” The man yelled. “Can't you win a f*cking–”

Quickly, the security took notice and stepped in, grabbing the man as he kicked at Zhongli.

“You said you'd win the f*cking–! Get your hands off me!” He shouted at the guards.

However, to Childe’s surprise, Zhongli didn't let go once the guards stepped in. With his left hand, Zhongli held the man by his wrist firmly, then twisted his wrist until the man yelped. Limbs held back by the men surrounding him, the attacker spit at Childe. "Bitch," the man crooned.

Abruptly, Zhongli's expression soured as he quirked his head to the side. Without care for the guards, Zhongli yanked the man and jutted his leg out to knee him, only to be restrained by the guards himself.

“Mr. Zhongli, we'll take it from here.”

“I'll handle him,” Zhongli grunted, struggling his left hand out of the guard's hold, and only wincing slightly when his right hand was strongly restrained in exchange. In the distraction, the attacker landed a kick at Zhongli, and Childe finally geared up from his surprise.

Now Childe approached him, pissed as he walked past Zhongli. The security quickly grabbed Childe, holding his hands behind his back despite his struggling. “f*cker,” Childe muttered.

Again, the man spit on the floor.

Childe wrestled his hands free. “Wanna fight?” He dared, ready to pick the man up from the collar if not for the guards, quickly finding their footing to grab Childe by the shoulders again, more aggressively.

Not a second passed before Zhongli yanked his sore wrist away from the security and forced the guard holding Childe aside. Childe continued to push forward, and his intentions were clear.

“Quit it,” a guard warned Childe, although it only deepened Zhongli's glare behind him.

“He initiated,” said Zhongli levelly.

“Quit it!” The guard repeated, and Zhongli batted his hand away when he attempted to grab Childe again. When his wrist throbbed, he only straightened the line of his mouth further.

Childe almost grinned at the guard, co*cking his head to the side, and would've gotten carried away had Zhongli not rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Zhongli deadpanned at the lot of them, then turned and started walking through the crowd that had formed, gripping Childe's arm to pull him along. “Filthy gambler,” Zhongli muttered, and Childe had to restrain himself from turning back around. If he struggled too much, it would only hurt Zhongli's wrist more.

Gamblers were common in gaming, especially in the realm of professionals. In E-sports, people would bet ridiculous sums on their favourite teams, most of it fueled by a parasocial level of trust in their favourite player. COD was one of the categories this applied to, and it appeared that with Zhongli's rare appearance, serious bets had been placed. In other instances, players had been swatted and stalked due to a one-sided grudge from a debt-filled gambler. It seemed the man who attacked was one of such crazy “fans.”

The security guards were only doing their jobs, but despite knowing it, Zhongli wore a bitter expression until they reached the front doors. “Are you alright?” He asked, scanning Childe up and down as he reluctantly let go.

Childe gave a half-hearted smile as he pushed the doors open, the weather cloudy and misty. As the air rushed in, he walked out and held the door open for Zhongli. “I'm fine, you're the one with the injury.”

“That does not matter.”

"Like hell it doesn't."

"It's been worse," Zhongli insisted.

"Then stop lying and show me," demanded Childe. He felt stupid when Zhongli unhesitatingly lifted his right hand and Childe couldn't do anything other than hold it. He inspected it for a moment, then released it gently, figuring any touch would only strain it further. Zhongli wasn't glass, but it made Childe frustrated nonetheless. "I'm upset because of…” he paused, then started again as he turned around. “Come on, do you want something to eat? Maybe we can ask for some ice for you, too.”

Zhongli stood still beside him and Childe could feel his gaze on his back, but he ignored it as much as he could. Under the overhang of the building, the ginger pulled out his phone and the screen illuminated his hand. “I’ll try to find somewhere closeby…”

“Childe,” Zhongli said.

He wasn’t the type of person to ignore his name being called, but Childe nodded instead of looking up. Light rain drizzled from the building’s pipes, plopping into puddles. A moment passed while Zhongli waited. Zhongli had always been thoughtful, and Childe felt his chest squeeze at that fact.

Then Childe felt a warm hand fold over his on the phone, followed by the presence of Zhongli’s chest against his side. “Childe,” Zhongli repeated, softer.

The ginger swallowed but looked up, meeting Zhongli’s gaze just over his shoulder. He didn’t have anything to say, but he wasn't used to being quiet. “Don’t worry, it won’t be fish,” he tries to joke.

Exasperated, Zhongli huffs a gentle laugh, then tilts his head as he stares with equally gentle eyes. Childe’s hands feel a lot warmer. “You think you’re witty.”

“I’m not?” Childe teases half-heartedly.

“You are,” Zhongli admits, and wraps his other hand around Childe’s back to hold his forearm. The sweater was his, Childe remembered, rolled up to his elbow.

Childe feels his pulse racing as Zhongli holds him closer. “Are you cold?” Zhongli asks.

“As if I could be,” he mutters.

“Mn,” Zhongli hums and doesn’t let go.

Because of the weather, it's somewhat less crowded, and people walk past them in their hurry. Cars fill the streets so full that the other side of the road isn’t visible.

To Childe’s surprise, he doesn’t mind being held, and feels the tips of his ears flush pink.

“Childe,” he says softly again, quieter and held closer. He says it close enough that it drowns out the whirr of vehicles, but gently enough that it sounds like Zhongli is speaking to himself.

Then, as Childe’s phone-screen dims to black, Zhongli leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek. Zhongli leans away with tender eyes and a light flush of his own, and it takes Childe a moment as his whole face heats up before he turns around in the other man’s arms.

“Zhongli,” he replies, heart thumping in his throat. At the smile on Zhongli’s face and the small splash of a car behind them, Childe leans forward and kisses back.

When Zhongli wraps his arms around his waist, he feels his spine sizzle. Childe makes a small noise into the kiss. Zhongli turns them both until Childe’s back is against the cold wall of the building, and Childe puts a hand high on Zhongli’s arm. At that, Zhongli leans further and gently pads Childe’s head from the wall with his hand.

Eyes shut and head cradled, Childe finds Zhongli tastes like freshwater diamonds, deep in the earth. When he inhales, there are heady hints of patchouli.

“Zhongli,” Childe breathes when they part, then pulls at his arm. Without a chance to have put his phone away, his other hand presses against Zhongli’s back with the phone between them.

After a soft moment of staring, Zhongli indulges him, closing his eyes as he leans in again. He licks over Childe’s lips and they whole-heartedly open to let him in. Childe's heart stutters and flutters, like he’s got a penta-kill in a 2-V-2 game.

Childe’s grip tightens on Zhongli’s bicep, brows furrowed as he hums between them. He can feel Zhongli’s smile when Childe bites at his bottom lip, but it doesn’t discourage him.

When they part, Zhongli is smiling warm and openly. A similar smile relaxes onto Childe’s face.

“I like you, Zhongli,” Childe confesses confidently. The red on his ears is warm against the cold, wet air, but Zhongli emits heat. "Thank you."

Zhongli’s smile turns bright and glad, his eyes almost curving closed. “And I love you, Childe,” he says softly.

Suddenly, his chest feels impossibly tighter. Zhongli ruffles his hair.

To the ginger’s surprise and endearment, Zhongli rests his head in the crook of Childe’s neck. “I wouldn’t mind seafood today,” he muttered. Childe laughed and ruffled his hair back. Gently, his free hand slid from Zhongli's hair down to his left wrist, then slipped into his palm. Zhongli played their fingers to interlace, and when they did, Childe replied with a soft squeeze.

When he tilts his head to the side, he can see the softness of Zhongli’s hair spread against his neck. “If this is what I get for going into overtime, what happens when I beat you?” The ginger teases.

“You’ll have to improve to see,” Zhongli laughs gently, the sound rumbling against Childe’s chest. Playfully, Childe squeezes Zhongli’s hand again.

— — —

[Tartaglia: I’m ready to go, just wait until next time. Congratulations, Zhongli and Xiao [winking.jpeg]]

Attached to the post was an image of Zhongli on a bed, blissfully passed out. The replies came quickly and in many.

[Zhongli was playing with the handicap of a wrist injury]

[Please do a rematch, sick to see other creators trying COD]

[If I download Modern Warfare, do I get a guaranteed co-op with Zhongli too?]

[Zhongli looks so handsome even when sleeping [crying.jpeg]]

[Congratulations at staring at Zhongli 90% of the panel [clapping.jpeg]]

[New title unlocked: #1 IRL Viewer]

[New title unlocked: #1 Zhongli Photographer]

Two minutes after being posted, a special reply came from another streamer.

[SScaramouche: Kys]

— — —

“My set-up looks different? My, aren't you guys sharp,” Childe smirks at his chat. He leans on his armrest as he scans the barrage, Planet Befall in the background.

[Dumbasses, he's had that set-up for a while now [laughing.jpeg]]

[Yeah, it's the same as before, just away from his bed]

[What artifacts do you have on?]

[I've lost all of my 50/50s, pulling stream when?]

[Guys, face it, he plays PUBG and COD now. He's forgotten his humble beginnings]

“I have Befall open right now,” Childe defended. “And I only started playing COD a few weeks ago. I'll get bored eventually, you know.”

[Before you “get bored,” watch this clip!]

[!!!]

“Sure, sure,” Childe half-heartedly rolled his chair closer and clicked the link, muting Befall in the background.

It was a COD video, the surroundings filled with crates and stairs. Not ten seconds in, Childe frowned. “Really?”

The clip ended shortly, Zhongli's view showing a clear headshot on Childe before his screen was illuminated in blue.

“Next time, you'll see how much better I've gotten,” Childe chided. “I had room to improve, but next time we fight, I'll definitely win.”

He skimmed the chat for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, I could improve my scope-view. No-scopes only look cool when you hit the target,” he agreed. “...How much to make that clip the donation gif? How much to change your username to ‘Tartaglia's Number One Supporter’?

“Ah,” Childe sat up straighter.

The viewers began spamming question marks as Childe shifted one side of his headphones off and looked past the monitor. “Thanks,” he smiled, taking the bowl that was handed to him off-screen.

[What?]

[Men, I think he finally did it]

[Congratulations on getting a girl [crying.jpeg]]

[I feel like a proud father, my heart is melting]

[Yeah, but remember that time Aether threw a burrito in his face and everyone also thought he was married?]

[Don't ruin the moment]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

“Should we finish weeklies?” Childe grinned at his stream. He set the soup aside to cool and came closer to his desk, hands settling leisurely on his keyboard.

[What? No denying?]

[No, it's the lack of banter. He shot back last time, but now that he's not…]

[Wow]

[[Clapping.jpeg]]

[Holy sh*t what are those stats?!]

[Wait, open your character screen again]

[WTF why pair such poor crit ratios]

[All of my pride is stripped. I'm disappointed]

[You play Befall for a living]

“Farming is tedious, and I don't need to build Geo characters anyway.” Childe grinned and rolled his shoulder. “Now, let's see how fast we can run this.”

As the boss domain loaded, Childe lifted the soup and sipped a spoonful.

Then, suddenly, the chat filled with question marks again. As it did, Childe set the bowl down and turned to the torso entering the monitor's view.

“Is it alright?” The person asks.

In two seconds, the chat exploded.

“Yes, it's wonderful,” Childe smiles, crossing an ankle over his thigh. “When's your appointment, again?”

“Ah, yes.” The man lowers himself to tidy Childe's shirt, straightening the hem and over his shoulders. “The doctor said to come at four, and to use my wrist lightly until then. It's short notice, but they managed to fit me in. Would you like to come with me in twenty?”

Zhongli didn't face the monitor, but his frame, hair, and voice were impossibly recognizable. He stood by the desk, covering part of the screen with his back.

Childe hummed in agreement, glancing at Zhongli's wrist.

Then, beyond the viewers' sight, Zhongli leaned forward and placed a light kiss in front of where Childe's headphones lay.

Naturally, Zhongli ruffled his hair and walked away, Childe smiling brightly at his figure.

[...]

[?]

[???]

[Okay]

[What the hell]

[... You're totally dead in Befall. Every character too, sheesh…]

[What did I just see]

[Someone clip the end where Tartaglia smiles stupidly, thanks]

[[Laughing.jpeg]]

[New title unlocked: #1 IRL Simp]

[sh*t, he's really gonna end the live!]

[Wow, blushing much [laughing.jpeg]]

[[Laughing.jpeg]]

[Wait, before you end stream!! Watch this old Zhongli clip please!!]

Planet Befall - Chapter 3 - SwirlingWinds - 原神 (2024)

Chapter Text