Etched In Stone

Sunny-Side Up

Zhongli wakes up to find Childe putzing about in the kitchen, which makes the lizard brain horny.

CW: Smut

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Zhongli wakes to a cold bed, a crick in his neck, and the lingering smell of Childe.

He isn't far; Zhongli hears movement in the kitchen, Childe milling about. The clink of pans and the hiss of steam. He must be cooking.

Zhongli moves, stretching the kinks out in his spine, feeling his age. This is a newer thing, the exhaustion that tugs at his weary and sharpened edges, settling deep into his bones. He used to sleep for pleasure, and while it still isn't a necessity, the loss of his gnosis has left his body lopsided and odd.

There is a learning curve. He's still figuring it out.

Zhongli sits up slowly, sighing as he rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes. It has been so long since he's self-indulged that it almost feels foreign. This is his life now. His people, Liyue, the future of it all—it's in their hands, not his.

And then, there's Childe and these fluttering feelings that churn in his heart. Zhongli finds himself smiling at the mere thought of it.

He stands and wraps himself in a robe, the soft silk cool against his naked body. He sighs contently as he tugs his fingers through his hair, detangling the strands, and slips his feet into soft slippers.

"A lazy morning, I think," he says, his voice soft. "What a wonder."

There is so little that surprises him in these years. He loves it. Among other things.

#

He finds Childe in the kitchen brewing a pot of tea. Zhongli leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest as he watches fondly.

Childe wears nothing but Zhongli's shirt from the night before, the cotton rumpled. The buttons are done up all wrong from lack of care. It falls to mid-thigh, just barely covering the swell of his ass, and when he lifts his arms, the fabric rises to show soft, creamy skin, and the bite marks that mar it.

Zhongli has never been so fond of someone. Not even Guizhong with her quiet voice and whimsical idioms, or Retuo with his devout friendship and loyalty. Childe is like a wildfire instead. He's blown through Zhongli's life and set it ablaze. He thought his retirement would be simple. He was wrong.

"Oh," breathes Childe, turning around to find Zhongli standing there. His cheeks flush pink and he tugs at the collar of the shirt. He's at ease, just surprised, and he grins brightly at Zhongli. The kettle on the stove sets off, piercing the air shrilly. "I made tea."

"Mhm." Zhongli steps closer as Childe turns back to the whistling pot, turning the fire low. Zhongli curls around Childe, wrapping his hands around his waist and pressing his nose into the nape of Childe's neck. Zhongli inhales the scent of the ocean, sand, and whatever tea leaves he had his fingers in.

Childe pauses, relaxing against him. "You should've stayed in bed, you old lizard."

Zhongli nips at his neck lightly, dragging his teeth across the skin there. Childe's skin pebbles and he shudders, fingers gripping the kitchen counter tightly. "Missed you," he murmurs.

Childe chuckles. "I'm right here."

"Yes, but I like to wake up wrapped around you. Your hair tickles my nose and you make adorable noises in your sleep, but mostly it's just the feel of it. The peace makes me content."

Zhongli has done a lot of thinking and has determined that his happiness is hopelessly tied to this man before him. He kisses Childe's shoulder, just at the juncture of his neck where the collar of the shirt hangs loosely. And there Zhongli's lips linger.