Love Me With Your Sweet Lies [Zhongchili]

Chapter 5 - A Beautiful Truth

Something large clings to Childe's arm, heavy and unyielding. He snaps awake, his other hand ready to summon a weapon to stave off the threat, but stills when he sees the source of the hold.

Zhongli lies next to him, curled into his side and arms latched around Childe's. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, the morning sun streaming across his face. On some bizarre instinct, Childe reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair back from Zhongli's face and tucks it behind his ear.

He's been a dumbass.

With a snort and a grumble, Zhongli shakes his head while his eyes remain closed, threading a leg between Childe's and snuggling tightly into him.

Well, this is new.

Zhongli deserves better than him, but for some reason he hasn't chased Childe from the building yet and, more bizarrely, seems to hold a positive association with him, despite all he's put them both through.

"That is my intent, if you are amiable to continued relations between us, my dear Ajax?"

"I wish to place no pressure upon your decision. But if it is my company that you desire, then it can be said that the feeling is certainly mutual."

Oh yeah, Zhongli wants a relationship. With him. Zhongli likes him in that way. Perhaps the old man is going senile, but Childe's not complaining.

Zhongli wants him.

"Alright, you old lizard, you made your bed, time to lie in it." Childe slips his free arm around Zhongli's middle.

They've never done this before. Even before the Osial incident they always woke at a polite distance from each other, the high of the previous night lost to morning awkwardness until the next time they would do the same.

It's weird, but it's not bad.

They lie face to face and—Archons above—Zhongli is beautiful up close like this. But how could he expect anything else of the human form of Rex Lapis, Geo Archon and Prime Adeptus? Zhongli's form is carefully crafted to inhuman perfection, not the trace of a flaw in either his skin or his figure. Zhongli mumbles something incomprehensible in his sleep and holds tighter on Childe's scar-littered arm.

How ironic that a man so squeaky clean and perfect would take someone as messy as Childe. His scars are great, of course, a trophy of all that he's beaten, all that he's overcome, but they're quite the juxtaposition against Zhongli's unmarred body.

One might call it poetic, if they were so inclined. Someone like Zhongli, probably.

But for now, he is content to lie here with Zhongli for a little longer. He pulls the blankets up tighter around them—not because he's cold, but because an unnervingly foreign instinct to snuggle has overtaken him—and rests his free hand on Zhongli's shoulder. They're so close, closer than he has ever spent a prolonged period with a person, and he can't help but be a little curious.

He traces his fingers across the cliff of Zhongli's cheekbone, sliding down to rest on Zhongli's lower lip, poking at it gently. Soft. Squishy. Like sponge. Huh, interesting. He'd half suspected that Zhongli might turn to stone in his sleep. Zhongli's nose wrinkles and his lip curls. Pulling back, his eyes open, and he blinks in a disoriented manner before settling his gaze on Childe.

"Ajax." He says the name as reverent as a prayer and smiles warmer than sunlight. "Good morning."

"Morning, Zhongli." Childe slides his hand inconspicuously to Zhongli's shoulder. Zhongli doesn't need to know that Childe spent the past five minutes poking his face. "Sleep well?"