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Childe woke up slowly; that in itself was a novelty.
Cold mornings in the company of several rowdy siblings didn’t present many chances for a lie in, and any notion of a relaxing day spent in bead was thoroughly crushed in the Fatui. Yes, as he rose to higher ranks he did ultimately gain an opportunity to take some time off, but such practices have long been abandoned by then.
So the ginger rarely stopped and rarely relaxed, spurred on both by his natural restlessness and a never-ending need for movement ingrained over his life.
However, during his recent forays into warm domesticity among winding streets lined with sandbearer trees, he gained a sense of appreciation for the slower speed of life. Liyue was a place that seemed to run in tempo set by a never ending tick of a quiet clock, buzzing and bustling heart of a trade empire; but also where time seemed to stretch like rich honey, relishing every second added to the vivid history carved upon the mountainsides.
These days, Childe could indeed consider one of leisure well spent. And thus have been mornings in bed slowly introduced into his life - of course, they mainly hinged on the company.
But the novelty still hasn’t really worn off, so yes, there was something almost special about waking up so slowly.
It started with a sense of warmth, coiling around him in a golden glow, chasing the cold of his icy home to a distant memory. It actually hovered on the precipice of too warm, but now, wrapped in the pleasant haze, Childe couldn’t imagine anything more undesirable than actually moving. He exhaled slowly, weightless in this little pocket of safety, and nuzzled further into the warmth.
Something soft tickled his cheeks and the ginger twisted his face unhappily. A bit of wiggling solved the problem, and he was once again able to press closer to his comfortable pillow - however, the action also brought forth further awareness and with it, wakefulness.
Childe frowned and twitched his fingers. It felt like a crime, to wake up, but the unending metronome of alertness started ticking mercilessly, so he didn’t really have a choice.
Deep blue eyes opened slowly, blinking in the ochre glow, and what greeted him were pale furs and blankets pooling before him. The ginger scrunched up his eyebrows, his tired brain still on its way to properly shake off the haze of sleep, so it took him a few moments to remember.
Ah. He was in Zhongli’s nest.
———
“A domain? Like the ones the dotting the countryside?”
“Hmm, yes and no.” Zhongli turned his face upwards to the azure sky, unbothered about watching his feet, steps steady and sure with millennia of practice. “A more precise term might be realm.”
Childe, currently balancing on a tree root and hopping over jutting stones lining the forgotten path which they were currently undertaking, raised his head. “A realm? Wait, do you actually have a literal plane of existence tucked somewhere between the hills in here?”
The god, who genuinely might have been able to do just that, chuckled and raised his palm to help the ginger over a crack. “I would not be so drastic in my descriptions. It is a pocket dimension of sorts, place between the folds of elemental sphere made using adeptal arts. Mine is situated at a point where the ley lines cross and bubble closer to surface, making it particularly potent in pure energy; but that does not need to be the case. Madame Ping, much more skilled in this art than myself, places hers in a teapot.”
Halfway hanging off his companion and peering down the mountainside, Childe raised his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. “All of that went over my head, except for the fact that you could have chosen to live inside a teapot and decided not to.”
“Ah, well,” Zhongli chuckled, embarrassed flush almost invisible on his ears. “Truth be told, not only does the creation of my lair predate such practice, but it would also be severely unstable without the stabilising energy of the ley lines present, due to the high amount of possessions requiring a very specific conditions to ensure their proper preservation.”
“Are you saying you hoarded too many trinkets over the years, so that it might now all collapse on your head were it not for the continuous energy source?”
It was truly magical how perfectly the Adeptus could channel the energy of a particularly disgruntled cat. “I do not hoard. Appreciation of the mastery and passion required to make a memorable keepsake does not imply -“
Childe shut him up with a kiss. “Nah, you totally hoard, just accept it.” The wind whistling over gently swaying Qinxin flowers made his hair dance like a tiny bonfire, matching the light in his smile. “Now show me that fabled dragon lair.”
———
With memories leisurely calling for attention, Childe finally acknowledged the source of all that warmth. Slow puffs against his neck and a solidness behind his back - he grinned, and carefully turned his head back to gaze upon the perpetrator.
Zhongli was sleeping with his head tucked close, a dark mass of hair strewn around his shoulders and arms wrapped around Childe’s middle. He was a tiny bit bigger, a tiny bit broader, and the ginger could barely see them from the corner of his eye, but there were also horns branching from his head and a scaly tail disappearing somewhere under the furs and blankets.
Childe exhaled slowly and his lips upturned into a gentle smile almost against his will.
He slowly squirmed around and was awarded an unhappy rumble for his actions, but he finally managed to roll partly over and gaze upon his lover fully.
Zhongli was beautiful. It was something Childe knew of course, something he was reminded of each time the warm glow of Liyuean sun backlit his ochre and ebony lines, each time a lively sparkle appeared in his eyes while happening upon a particularly rare antique.
But there was a different sort of beauty to him now - all the more special for the fact, that he was the only one to see the Adeptus like this. Soft in sleep, with delicate scales scattered on his cheekbones and the vivid strokes of red under his eyes, long eyelashes curling gently upwards and mouth slack in rest.
Childe slowly traced his eyes upwards, over the iridescent horns unfurling like petals of a flower, but with the tips still wickedly sharp. He felt the claws gently resting over his hips, and when he tucked his head under Zhongli’s jaw, the steady thrum of his heart.
There was something almost too big rising in his throat, something warm and soft in a way he didn’t allow himself for years and so so precious, because now he could.
———
“Okay, it’s official, I’m dreaming. Don’t you dare wake me up.”
Fond chuckles sounded from behind, but the ginger was too busy making heart-eyes at the absolutely glorious room he had found himself in.
The very entrance to said dragon’s lair was hidden under a glowing seal, flaring brightly at its maker’s touch. It opened to an intersection of sorts, branching into many rooms filled to the brim with various possessions, all of the hoard organised in that particular chaotic way only the person responsible could ever hope to navigate.
He of course immediately teased the dragon about it.
But after letting himself be made fun of for a while, Zhongli took Childe into a particular room filled with glints of steel and there, the ginger found heaven.
“Look at this sword,” he gushed, lifting the weapon up and gazing upon it lovingly. “I want to marry this sword.”
His lover, leaning against the entrance with his hands folded, chuckled. “Should I perceive it thus that I have competition?” he asked, a playful spark entering his eyes.
“Oh absolutely,” Childe answered offhandedly, running his fingers over dark curling lines of a bow, right next to almost maliciously humming polearm. Hmm, it appeared to be locked inside a sealed container of sorts. Pity.
“Although,” he added, throwing a coy glance over his shoulder, “I theoretically could be persuaded into favouring you instead.”
Zhongli smiled and extended a hand towards him. “Then come. I have one more chamber to show you.”
———
A moment more of warm floating; but there was only so much time someone as restless as the ginger could spend just laying around. Childe wiggled his fingers and blinked into the fuzzy gloom of his surroundings, before extracting himself and sitting up to properly wake up.
Or at least that had been the plan.
The plan truthfully failed during the very first step. Childe tried to twist himself out of his lover’s hold, but as soon as Zhongli’s grip loosened, he frowned, made a very soft unhappy hiss, and proceeded to clutch the ginger closer to his chest with a breathless oof.
Childe’s eyebrow twitched.
Despite his lover’s hatred towards such creatures, the ginger would swear up and down, that it was actually Zhongli who took on the role of an octopus in their relationship. And one entirely resolved to using all of his considerable unnatural strength in ensuring that his favourite pillow remained close.
Said living-pillow wiggled in place. “Zhongli,” he hissed lowly, in the vain hope of somehow coaxing the Adeptus’ subconsciousness to release him. He managed to free one arm - the other was hopelessly pinned to his side - and pushed against that defined chest which all of Liyue eyeballed so happily. “Zhongliii.”
The dragon currently curled around him hummed, and tucked his face into the crook of Childe’s neck.
Childe sighed and stared at the ceiling for a while, before attempting to twist around and wiggle upwards; all means of escape dwindling before his eyes. He was trapped. Completely, thoroughly trapped, Zhongli’s gold-brown arms around his waist a bloody vice, their legs tangled together and something suspiciously scaly slithering up along his thigh. How the Adeptus managed such a death grip even in the throes of sleep remained beyond him.
“Zhongli I can’t… I can’t breathe let… let go you possessive lizard.”
The ginger made a last valiant effort to squirm away; the dragon sighed dreamily, unbothered in his slumber, before rolling over and pinning Childe under his weight.
He temporarily debated just stabbing the Adeptus. Maybe a knife in the side would finally get him to let go.
———
“Huh. Well, this is different.”
Zhongli stood before him with the slightest nervous tilt to his head. “A good different?”
Childe grinned at his lover and slung his arms over his shoulders. “The best,” he confirmed, sealing his approval with a kiss and didn’t miss the happy purr starting in Zhongli’s chest.
To be fair, the room they had found themselves in was a far cry from the dark and damp cave one might expect from a dragon. Of course, everything in the abode was sustained by the energy of the ley lines, so a certain degree of un-realness was to be expected; but the chamber itself genuinely couldn’t be described other than cozy.
It was grand and light, lit up in golden glow from clusters of cor lapis scattered around the walls and the flutters of crystalflies flying close to the ceiling. The little elemental beings weaved around branches covered with healthy leaves from a literal tree growing at the back wall, its roots streaked with ochre lines and dipping into the stone floor with the grace of waves rippling outwards. An extinct breed, feeding on the cumulating energy keeping it nice and healthy, even without any natural light, the Adeptus explained. A stream ran to a natural drop between its roots, making a little pond of clear water, before disappearing again near the wall.
But the most striking feature of all was the nest. A circular dip in the floor, big enough for Zhongli’s dragon form to stretch comfortably, and overflowing with mounds of blankets, pillows and furs.
It was uncanny how utterly Zhongli the place seemed; but while the rest of the abode spoke of the historian, the consultant and the collector, this particular room echoed about the dragon.
Childe gazed over the warm glimmers over rough stone walls and smiled. “I love it.”
Zhongli echoed his smile, a vague outline of winding horns appearing above his head, before taking the ginger’s hands in his own and tugging him to the nest with intent hunger in his eyes.
———
In the end there wasn’t need to carry out such drastic actions - Childe finally made headway, rolling the tangled mass of limbs over and freeing himself in the process. However, somewhen during their flailing about , the warm body over his suddenly moved and with a little squeak the ginger ended up seated over his lover, reptilian eyes slowly blinking up at him.
Zhongli’s hands automatically came to rest on Childe’s thighs and his tail wound upwards. Frankly, he looked adorable; all sleepy confusion and vehement refusal to let go, the golden glow of his horns scattering little rainbows on the dark scales lining his chest.
He should probably feel a bit more guilty about waking the Adeptus, but alas, the only thing on Childe’s mind right now was how sweet fresh air tasted.
“Well hello there,” he intoned happily, one hand stroking over glossy scales wrapped around his waist and the other splayed on Zhongli’s abdomen for balance. “I would say that you cling to things like a dragon, but I’m afraid that particular comparison is a little on the nose Xiansheng.”
“Mhmmm.” Zhongli yawned, showing off white fangs and a forked tongue peeking out for a second, before closing his eyes and mumbling lowly: “I warned you.”
The ginger paused in petting the soft floof of fur on the tip of the dark tail and cocked his head to the side. “Huh?”
A flash of brilliant gold, partway hidden under long lashes. “That I would take you to my nest,” Zhongli’s thumbs started slowly stroking over Childe’s skin, claws scratching just so over his scars, “and never let you go.”
The Adeptus lifted an ochre palm to his lover’s face, suddenly sitting up and gazing into deep blue eyes. “I said so, did I not?”
Childe chuckled, resting their foreheads together, crowded by Zhongli’s presence, but the only thing his usually overly paranoid mind could whisper about was safety. “Aren’t you confusing me with one of your treasures?”
Zhongli hummed, still sleep-warm and with half lidded eyes, pressing closer and tracing his nose over Childe’s jawline. “Should you not be the most radiant treasure of them all?” A kiss pressed to his collarbone, and a gentle nip right next to it. “I consider myself an appreciator and a collector of beauty after all.”
The ginger stroked a finger over golden horn and grinned at the full body shiver that got him. “You couldn’t have chosen all of your possessions just because they were pretty.”
“No.” The tail around Childe’s waist tightened, broad hands splayed over his lower back. “There are many qualities that may ascertain an item’s value. Sometimes it is rare. Sometimes it is practical. Sometimes it is made out of expensive parts. Sometimes it is made with such skill, that even the basest of materials shine under craftsmanship honed over years and years of dedication to a craft. Sometimes it is made with passion, bringing lush life to the most ordinary of trinkets.”
“And which one charmed the mighty dragon into spiriting me away?”
Zhongli lifted his head, golden fondness in his eyes, and whispered against Childe’s lips: “Maybe all.”
The following kiss was enough to momentarily wipe all thought out of the ginger’s head; when he upon waking registered he was back amongst the fluffy blankets, clutched close to his lover’s chest, he whined unhappily and tugged at a dark forearm. “Zhongliii, come on.”
The Adeptus pressed another kiss into his hair. “Please my heart, just a minute more?” and really, how could Childe ever say no to such endearment?
“Just a minute,” he mumbled then, but there was something fuzzy and furred strewn over his shoulders, and the chest under his cheek started vibrating with deep purrs, and really, when the agreed upon minute came and went, the ginger was already fast asleep.
———
When he awoke for the second time, he was encircled in the coils of a fully grown dragon.
“Z-Zhongli! You can’t… no, that purring won’t help you, you… useless lizard, no, stop trying to lay that overgrown head on me you… d-don’t you dare smother me like that! Let me go! Zhongli!”