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“You need to get off suppressants and spend your next heat cycle with an alpha.” Childe usually heeded his doctor's advice and regularly attended his check ups, required by the Tsaritsa of her beloved Harbingers every two months. It was not because he was rather meticulous about his health… but because he would be prevented from engaging in missions should he fail to comply. He was fully confident in his ability to fight in weak health—there were far worse conditions he had survived—but regulations were regulations and Childe feared missing any battle, especially over something as mundane as a check up. This, however, had made his mouth go dry in hesitation. “Why?” He asked. The woman in front of him, who never particularly enjoyed their appointments—evident in the immediate frown whenever he entered the room—gave him an unimpressed look. He still was not certain what he had done to offend her after a year of acquaintance. “Your blood test came back and you are starting to develop irregular hormone levels. It is not natural to remain on suppressants as long as you have. At this point I expect a rapid decrease in hormone regulation which will lead to major health defects. Suppressants block the receptors that release chemicals to signal functions like pheromone release and estrus, acting in the place of a molecule that is produced during high stress or pregnancy, but with suppressant abuse the body will begin to stop making this molecule completely as it finds no reason to produce more when the receptors are constantly bound. However, your body still requires this molecule for other functions.” “Oh.” She sighed at the unintelligent response. “If this goes on you could be facing something as severe as organ failure. As soon as you can I recommend you begin to wean off and find a compatible alpha.” He smiled awkwardly and leaned forward in his chair a bit. “And an alpha… I can’t go without one?” A hand shoved glasses straight as she snapped her file case shut. “No. Unless you wish to go into heat shock seeing how you’ve never even experienced one before. Best of luck.” With that and a shoo of her hand his check up had ended. Childe had been on suppressants for the last five years, a late bloomer in second gender presentation, but the moment the waft of omega entered Pulcinella’s nose he had locked him up until a package of nondescript pills arrived at his door. “You are too young and too busy to deal with being an omega right now. You can deal with that later.” He had never specified when, exactly, later was. He supposed that it was now, left with no choice but to confront an aspect of himself he had ignored from the moment it spawned. It wasn’t an issue to stop taking suppressants, he told himself, he did not care what effect it had on his image as he didn’t plan to let it be a display of weakness. He was already the 11th Harbinger. But the pressing concern of “find a compatible alpha” and the insinuating actions after truly made him nervous. It would be his first heat—his first everything really. Consumed by the continuous search for battle, he had never taken the time to even consider bedding an individual, constituted by the fact he hadn’t even met someone who sparked his interest in that manner. Well, never besides the Wangsheng Funeral consultant whom he had been entertained by for the past couple of months. But it was hard not to be drawn to Zhongli for any common person. He was an unreasonably attractive alpha, baritone voice carrying wisdom and knowledge, standing with an aura that commanded attention. He had many simple components that created the equation for attractiveness. Childe’s interest was not special, it was normal. A normal social response. This is what he told himself. But there wasn’t really anyone else. Childe did not have many friendly connections due to his own characteristics as a person, those of which he refused to recognize as unnatural—more so chose not to care if they were. And for something like a first heat… it should be someone he trusted, shouldn’t it? He had self preservation. Tossing it away to some alpha seemed irresponsible and demeaning to his ego. And Zhongli was kind to him. He smelled of warmth and stability, soothing to his crazed soul. Perhaps there was a little hope that Zhongli, too, found Childe attractive. They had brushed hands frequently, they had drank together almost every week, they had gravitated closer in moments of silence. There was a basis for this. This is what he told himself. So, acting in good faith for the sake of his health, Childe met Zhongli for dinner the next day. They were at a smaller restaurant this time, a homely place, far different from the extravagant meals Childe frequently arranged for their meetings, too rushed a plan in his valiant and quick efforts to sustain homeostasis for anything fancy. He was in high spirits, riding on the idea that Zhongli wouldn’t say no after all their time together, after all the lingering gazes. So he ate fast, fidgeted while Zhongli completed his plate, and placed his elbows on the table—hands open—as soon as the other set down chopsticks. “So, Zhongli…” He began. The man across from him smiled in response, giving his attention to whatever Childe was to say next. His cheeks felt like they were burning. Childe cleared his throat and returned his elbows to his side, hands sweating through his gloves. “I’m going to get off my suppressants soon.” The man froze, caught off guard. Childe let out a performative laugh and Zhongli sat straighter. “I was not aware that you were an omega.” He said, eyes never breaking contact. Childe opened his mouth uncomfortably, pausing before he could speak as a server came to clean their table. He smiled sheepishly as they waited for the interruption to withdraw. He could swear the server was deliberately taking their time, his smile transferring into a thin, pressed line of strain. “Is that… an issue?” He asked nervously when they finally took their leave. Zhongli shook his head and reached for his cup of tea. “No, I am only merely surprised.” “Ah, ok. Cool.” Childe exhaled, steeling his nerves. It was a valid response. The suppressants kept him from developing noticeable omegan characteristics through adolescence. Of course he would be surprised. “So…” He pushed forward. Cor lapis met his eyes once again and Childe found himself stuttering. “I wanted to ask if you would spend my next heat with me.” This wholly shocked Zhongli, no confirmation needed as the ajar mouth and wide eyes were enough of a give away. It was Zhongli’s turn to clear his throat this time, composing himself briskly in the same tempo that Childe was rewiring his brain to produce reassurance. They had talked so much, they were comfortable around each other, Zhongli had gifted him chopsticks! He sat expectantly, smiling as charming as he could. “I apologize, but I believe you should find another alpha.” Ah. His heart dropped to the floor in a single motion, instantly nauseous at the speed of it. “No worries!” He spat out quickly with a laugh. “I just figured I would ask. Please don’t let it cloud our company together.” Overcompensating positivity was not reaching Zhongli, it seemed, as he appeared upset. The man looked like he wanted to say something, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slightly working open. For a moment it looked like Zhongli sought murder with how intensely he stared into his tea cup. But the knowing calm settled over his body once more and he let out a huff before smiling and contributing to the cause of curing awkward tension. “Of course not.” He said.
—
Rejection is a common occurrence as a Fatui Harbinger, Childe could handle rejection. Everything was fine. He would just need to wait until he could find another alpha that he didn’t feel the need to maim. Surely there would be someone. The days passed in a haze. He did his job, formulating a plan on obtaining Rex Lapis’s gnosis after the Exuvia fell from the sky. He continued to meet with Zhongli, perpetually confused at the way they flitted around each other even after his humiliating proposition. He did not stop taking his suppressants. It began to catch up to him one day after speaking to the traveler at Baizhu’s pharmacy, having laughed so hard at their excursion with Qiqi that he began to feel lightheaded. But it persisted even after he left them all the way until the next day and the day after, to which he was forced to accept it as his new normal. Ekaterina found him passed out on his desk one evening and when she prodded him awake, Childe found a new status effect had been added when he promptly puked onto the ground and all over her shoes. Everything was fine. This is what he told Ekaterina. She took his word for it the first time, but not the next. “Master Childe, you need to go to the doctor.” She urged him, helping him clean up the bile that splattered across the bathroom floor. He had not been quick enough to the toilet. He sighed and ushered her off the floor, turning to the sink to wash his hands. Childe looked at her through the mirror, considering what to say to ease his secretary. “I already know what the problem is, I’m taking care of it.” She looked at him skeptically. “Don’t believe me?” “No, sir.” That got a chortle out of him and he raised his wet hands in defeat. “Ok, ok fine.” He relayed the doctor’s report and made his way back to his desk, Ekaterina trailing behind. “Is there truly no one?” She asked. “What about Mr. Zhongli? You two spend a lot of time together.” Childe smiled tersely. “I already asked.” “My apologies.” He waved her words away. “It’s fine, I’ll just search for someone else.” Which wasn’t exactly true, Childe had put barely any effort into finding someone aside from Zhongli. He had procured a list of excuses for the matter, ignoring his bitterness and labeling it professionalism instead. The 11th Harbinger couldn’t be going around desperately searching for someone to fuck, it would surely reach the mouths of everyone who didn’t need to know his business. The thought of Zhongli and the traveler perceiving him as some sort of sexual deviant didn’t sit quite well with him, thank you very much. “Then… should I start collecting a profile of potential partners?” “No. It’s my first heat, Ekaterina. I should have standards. It should be someone I’ve built a connection with naturally.” “I didn’t take you for a romantic.” “It’s not—it’s not that. Whatever. I’ll figure it out, don't worry about it.” And so the days continued, trudging through them like the soldier he was. He did not have time to see Zhongli anymore, preoccupied with carrying out his very important mission and mitigating his efforts to the cause in lieu of his other… important–but–could–be–ignored mission. The symptoms were masked behind bloodlust and Childe learned to hold his bowels until he was in the privacy of his own quarters. No one would be able to tell and Childe wanted to keep it that way, weakness shut down and shoved into a box. Ekaterina did not say anything but her nervous energy around him served as a constant reminder of his suppressed dread over the situation. But still, he continued on as normal. He raided the Golden Palace, succumbed to rage in the gnosis’ absence, fought the traveler, lost, then improvised—fleeing away so that he could throw up, nearly fainting on a tree while Osial began to form in the distant sea. The rain pelted on him, pressing him closer to the earth as he hurled his guts out over a large root. Faintly, he could hear the crashing of waves at the water displacement from Osial’s complete emergence, chaos ascending. His body seized in waves of cold—or maybe it was so hot it felt like ice—doubly punished for using Foul Legacy. Another flinch and he was spitting bile, gasping for air in between, choking on the rain that spilled into his nose. He would accomplish one thing; he would at least obtain Rex Lapis’ gnosis. Then, maybe, he’ll finally cast away his reservations and put an end to this torture by finding a measly alpha to sleep with. But Rex Lapis did not reveal himself to smite down an old foe, rendering Childe out of ideas and crushed. He agonizingly mulled over what to do next, unable to face the reality of being set back a second time. What would the Tsarista think? Self depreciation wasn’t something he dwelled on, but the imminent feeling of failure conjoined with the continuous days of illness were steadily wearing down his self assurance. Miserable—he was certainly miserable. And, then, as he was about to seek out Zhongli for a consultation of wisdom, entirely discouraged in his own ingenuity, he walked down the steps of Northland Bank, head throbbing, and found himself in the presence of the man in question next to La Signora, gnosis floating between them. Great. It wasn’t much of a confrontation, brushed aside by both individuals, dismissed as a witness to a contract he had not even known about. So he was left to despise himself in his mind. He was a fool. Why had he bothered with anything at all? Zhongli had not even spared him a glance. And it was unbearably horrifying to know that not only had he asked Rex Lapis to share his heat with him, but also had been denied in the face of being deceived. He had been suffering for this long for something that had been out of his hands the whole time. In a way, he was glad Zhongli didn’t look at him, violence rippling under his skin at every thought crossing his mind. La Signora had attempted to round him up for departure, but Childe had been restraining the urge to vomit the entire exchange, battling between nausea and manslaughter, leaving the traveler to wrap things up in their shocked curiosity. Unlike them, Childe did not want anything to do with Rex Lapis anymore. He did not see Zhongli again after that, avoiding public spaces on the excuse that the Millelith wanted his ass on a stake for his heinous crimes against the city. It was unfair how everything worked to plan for the now ex-archon while he sat in his office counting down the days for a steadily approaching deadline. He felt disgusting, unable to be clean, constantly perspiring by simply breathing. His station in Liyue did not let up for reasons beyond his comprehension, adding to his constant unease. But still, he continued on. He did his job as boring as it had become with his main mission completed, empty since it had not even been a real task to begin with. Childe ignored the small tinge of red in his stomach acid, falling back on spite and mild delusions that perhaps he could win this battle if he maintained composure through it long enough. Surely, karma didn’t have it out for him that bad. It was his turn for small blessings after everything. Ekaterina’s silence was becoming horribly loud these days. She broke her mute disapproval one afternoon after delivering tea, hesitant in speaking. “Sir…” She began. “I can smell a little bit of your pheromones.” Well, he couldn’t have that. So Childe did not leave Northland Bank for three days, holed up at his desk, contemplating over what to do without really thinking about it at all. And when a file for loan collection slid onto his table—a rare field job—he didn’t touch it until hours later, too busy wrestling down violent heat flashes—or maybe it was so cold it felt like fire—and anxiety. Exhausted and sweaty but diligent in his performance as a self-destructive outlet at this point in time, Childe announced to Ekaterina that he would be back, off to complete his chore. “What? Master Childe, you don’t mean to go out like this, do you? We can send a group out instead.” The pity aggravated him, building his resolution further to see through the job. “It’ll be quick. If you’re so worried, come with me then.” So together they made their way to the edges of Liyue’s docks in secrecy. His goal was simple: collect the money quickly and leave so he could pass out peacefully. He held out this long, he could really, honestly, at least do his job properly this time around. They approached a sizable group of inconspicuous men huddled around a trash bin fire, dark shadows draping over their walkway toward them. Childe already began groaning internally at the knowledge their numbers would create cockiness. What he didn’t expect was the immediate aggression, multiple heads turning as soon as he entered the vicinity. One man puffed up and spat at the ground. “What the hell is this?” He asked the two. “A loan collection, you’re weeks behind. You already know who I am.” Childe responded, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles in his pocket to distract him from the clouding haze quickly fogging his mind. He chided himself at the weakness, promising his body that he’d throw up later. Just finish this first. The man looked at him incredulously, turning to give the same expression to his group. They began laughing simultaneously, urging Childe to nearly draw his weapon in response. Ekaterina stood stiff behind him. “As an omega, you should know better than this.” Another man said. All of them stood assertively before him. Childe snarled at them, about to retort, when a wave of dizziness pushed him back, barely managing to catch himself. He had been managing this far, he didn’t understand why everything felt so heavy. The scent of alphas on the dock stung terribly. His sight wavered. “Master Childe—” Ekaterina began, cut off by Childe’s hydro vision activating into dual blades. “Listen, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Personally I’d enjoy it if you guys resisted a bit.” He taunted, ignoring the screaming siren in his head; not an unusual occurrence so the action came naturally. They growled at him, eager to subdue the dominance the omega was putting out. Childe took a confident step forward and fell to his knees. “Master Childe!” Ekaterina shouted, coming beside him. “This is not good, you're going into heat.” Ah so that’s what this was. The sound of fire crackling filled Childe’s ears, crisp and ringing. “Please, we should leave. We can dispatch others to handle this.” A heavy boot took a step forward, shaking the boards ever so slightly. “Before that, don’t you think we should put him in his place?” Someone suggested, inciting more laughter in return. Ekaterina tensed, clutching onto Childe’s clothes in fear. “Sir…” She pleaded. The group approached them. Childe stood up with Ekaterina’s help then pushed her behind him. It appeared like small blessings would not be received today. “Sorry, but it looks like I don’t really have a choice here.” He smiled ruefully at the men in front, attempting to even his breathing out. His hands shook involuntarily. “I’m getting help then.” She said, not waiting for a reply before running off in a panic. Childe charged at his opponents.
—
Ekaterina ran into the streets of Liyue, trying to scroll through all possible locations of Fatui military personnel that didn’t include sprinting all the way back to Northland Bank. She was still debating when she caught sight of long brown hair. Without thinking, she surged forward into the vendor. “Mister Zhongli.” She gasped. “Master Childe—he’s in trouble. Please, you know how to fight, right? I remember Master Childe mentioning he wanted to fight you. That must mean you are strong—he only says that about strong people so I—” Zhongli cut her frantic ramble short. “Where?”
—
They arrived through the heavy shadows in time to witness Childe swing heavily and knock down his last remaining opponent, back turned to them. The group lay scattered across the dock, groaning and wheezing from the battle. Childe himself, illuminated by the low lighting of the fire, was breathing so harshly it could be heard from where they approached. He turned—busted nose bleeding, making eye contact. He stood stunned for a moment, a painting of emotions flickering across his face. Maybe he had done something to personally offend Celestia, that must be why Zhongli was here. There was an attempt to speak, yet he choked before any syllable could be formed, standing frozen in shock as blood pooled from his mouth, dribbling all over the front of his uniform. For a moment no one moved, then Childe laughed brokenly, the sound similar to a sob. He teetered sideways, falling. Zhongli caught him. “Childe,” He said, voice piercing. “Where did you get hit?” Childe’s head fell backward in his hold, unable to keep it up. “Is’ not that.” He slurred, coughing slightly and wincing. He wanted a hole to die in. “Then what happened?” Zhongli searched over his body and Childe writhed under the touch. “Don… Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He gurgled out, eyelids fluttering, and then promptly passed out.
—
“The suppressants are backfiring against him. His body regulation is completely dysfunctional, hence why his heat spawned despite their use.” The doctor looked at the two people in her room, thoroughly aggravated. “I already told him this would happen and that he should find an alpha to share his heat with. I guess he didn’t take me seriously.” She scowled, pissed at the late intrusion. Ekaterina gave a blank, sideways stare at Zhongli who didn’t react. The man had not stopped holding Childe since the moment he had been picked up. “What is there to do now?” He asked. The doctor sighed, rubbing her temple. “He needs to sleep with an alpha immediately. The pheromone intake and output will prompt his body for the chemical release he is lacking. It will stabilize him and prevent him from entering heat shock. He can be placed on hormone therapy but it will not be a quick solution. Likely, there will be further damage before he gets better. There can be nothing done about the lasting effects after this. I will have to run a diagnostic on everything but I’d rather solve this matter first.” Ekaterina shifted, looking back and forth from the doctor to Zhongli and the problem in his arms who was currently covered by Zhongli’s coat. How he had not grown tired of holding up Childe—a solid, lanky mass of long limbs—for so long was beginning to impress her. The doctor held eye contact with Zhongli in assessment. “I expect the solution is drawing near to us, though.” She said, one eyebrow raised in speculation. Ekaterina looked back in time to see Zhongli’s jaw clench. “We will see to it that he is taken care of.” He said.
—
Zhongli was at the doorway when Childe woke up to the security of his own bedroom, groggily shifting around in discomfort before reaching and blindly grappling for the coat that lay half over him. He pulled it to his face and buried himself in it, finally relaxing. There was a single lamp lit in the corner, covering a portion of his frame in soft light. “Childe.” Zhongli spoke. The Harbinger jolted into a sit, clutching the coat to his chest in alarm. The action was too fast for his body and he grimaced, hunching over. His abdomen ached and it was hard to breathe, as if a panic attack were waiting at the cusp of each breath. He tried to find security and failed, resulting in a mere, wide stare at the other. “The doctor has made it clear that your body is no longer processing the suppressants. You are in immediate need of a heat partner if you wish to plateau the rate of decline in your health.” Childe’s face broke into several negative emotions, scent souring the room in an instant. He hid behind the coat unconsciously, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. Everything felt too warm. Too much. “Oh, ok… Thanks for letting me know… and for helping me get home.” He said, eyes downcast in avoidance. This was the worst. “Childe.” Zhongli spoke again. He looked up at the ex-archon in confusion, reading the way Zhongli’s mouth pursed to the side in conflict. He followed a golden gaze to the coat over his body and instantly flushed in embarrassment. What was wrong with him? He took a heavy gulp and hesitantly removed it from his being, dejectedly reaching to place it at the side of the bed so Zhongli could take his leave. He gave a forced laugh, bordering on a wheeze. “Um… sorry.” He settled back into the bed, pushing away the annoying urge to cry at the situation in front of Zhongli. He felt so miserably vulnerable and worn at the moment, unable to wrangle his thoughts into figuring out his next line of action, barely able to inhale without feeling some part of his body ache in response. The choking pheromones of an upset omega would push the other to leave he hoped. But Zhongli did not move to take back his coat, appearing even more upset. “What will you do now?” He asked. The question caught Childe off guard and he struggled to speak through the haywire nerves and migraine that was starting to sprout. “I—uh—I guess I’ll have Ekaterina send someone since there isn’t anything else. Let her know if you see her on your way out.” “From our past conversation I would have thought you already procured a partner for this matter.” Zhongli inquired, completely glued to the spot in the doorway. Childe gawked, roping in any words that made sense in a sentence. “It’s been a process.” “So you have asked others, then?” The questions were starting to feel more like a direct attack now, like an interrogation, and Childe swayed in anger, not appreciating the motion of being kicked while he was already down. “What does it matter to you, Rex Lapis?” He spat back. The question appeared to stir something in Zhongli because he took a quick step forward, halting suddenly before he could take another. Childe watched as the other took a deep inhale, heart having lurched to his throat at the abrupt movement. He choked back a noise from his mouth and it only worsened his headache. His body felt like it was moments away from erupting into flames. “You…” Zhongli began, face scrunched in what Childe assumed was frustration. “You asked only me, then, yes?” Childe did not respond for a moment, seething from humiliation. “I didn’t know you were Morax. So I apologize for asking. You can go if there’s nothing else.” He finally said, bitterness dripping off his tongue. The other huffed at that, arms crossing intimidatingly. Childe urged for him to leave in his mind, wishing for the torment to end and uncertain in his ability to remain conscious for much longer. The heavy wash of nausea was starting to build up again, sweat pooling in his clenched hands. Zhongli’s presence felt ten times more noticeable and his skin began to crawl. “Why did you not ask anyone else?” “Why do you care?” He shot back. “I’ve already played my part in your plans just how you wanted.” Gods… everything was starting to crumble. Zhongli needed to leave now lest he appear unsightly once again. “Answer.” Zhongli demanded stubbornly, voice teetering into a growl. Childe noted the way his jaw clenched itself around the word. They held a staring contest for a minute, impassive gold meeting a raging storm of ocean. Childe ultimately lost due to his handicap; his body having seized up for a second as a jolt of pain scorched his nerves and he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut from it. Still, Zhongli did not leave. Growing mildly hysteric from the pain, he answered while fireworks exploded behind his eyes. “Fuck—ok! Because it’s my first heat I didn’t want anyone else!” There was a dreary pan of silence, then Zhongli spoke again. “And now, does that still stand?” Childe groaned dramatically, blinking back vision, and threw himself to the pillows to curl around the largest one. His voice muffled through the fabric of the covers he hid under. “Yes! So please leave because we have already talked and I wish to get this over with.” He felt a tear leak from where it pressed into the pillow and he shuddered. He accepted that this must be punishment for attempting to drown Liyue: ridiculed by its archon in the throes of physical agony. A disgusting, sickly tug of dread at the acceptance he let himself end up in such a state tensed his body into a ball. He needed to start preparing his mental state now before he let some random stranger into his bed. The idea caused another tear to soak into the pillow and his mouth ached from restraining against further cries. He had been so stupid to end up like this. The bed did not feel right, his clothes were too warm—too tight. His body ached. Everything was wrong. He had been so caught up wallowing in his sorrow, halfway worked up into hyperventilation, that he did not notice Zhongli had moved into the room to stand next to the bed. He leaned over and tugged the fabric down, Childe flinching underneath. Deep blue stared into cor lapis. Childe’s breath ceased to even out, growing overwhelmed with Zhongli’s presence so close, the heavy smell of alpha immediately the only thing he could process amidst the turmoil of emotions that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. He had never felt like such a mess before, thoroughly uncomfortable to the bone and wracked over in panic, frustratingly so, over anything and everything. He anticipated berating, maybe laughter, choked on a sob with the expectation. It’s probably what he deserved. A gloved hand lifted up and caressed a wet cheek. “I did not agree to your proposal not because I did not want you.” Even now Zhongli held the image of dignified composure. “I did not wish to deepen the harm that would follow in my identity being revealed.” Childe continued to cry, unbelieving of what Zhongli was saying, eyebrows scrunched together angrily and teeth anchoring onto his bottom lip to stifle any wails that begged to be let out. He shut his eyes closed, trying to turn away from the touch but failing. Zhongli continued. “I had requested in my contract that none were to know about the truth to avoid exposure, but I had not anticipated becoming so… attached.” Childe’s eyes flicked open, lip slipping out so his jaw could clench down against itself. He held eye contact while he suffered through a wave of pain, neck straining out as his fists tugged the sheets. He tossed over onto his back with a gasp when the tension peaked and evened out, Zhongli’s hand on his cheek having moved through the endeavor to rest at the base of his head. A gloved thumb caressed skin to wipe away a fallen tear. The golden gaze analyzing him felt all encompassing, studying every move with overbearing, gross fascination. “You have reserved yourself for me, even with the circumstances faced.” Another hand moved to cup the back of his head, holding it up slightly from the pillow, a different thumb rubbing over the line of his jaw. Childe exhaled shakily, trying not to squirm from the pheromones clouding his senses. Somewhere along the way he had calmed down, unconsciously leaning into the touch where Zhongli’s wrists met his neck, an ooze of security branching from that contact. Distantly, Childe questioned how it was possible for someone to smell so good. “Had I known…” Zhongli trailed off into a low rumble, eyes dangerously squinted. The hands around his face moved together to massage the side of his neck and over the glands there, Childe’s chest arching up in response with a sharp inhale. He flung his own hands up to cling to Zhongli’s wrists. “Zhongli—what…” Childe didn’t know what to do with himself, couldn't resist the pressure on his swollen glands but intrinsically fought against it. Zhongli made the decision for him, releasing his hold to leave him dazed and confused, anxiety rapidly sparking under his skin at the separation. He made a choked noise, eyes searching up for Zhongli’s, seeking clarity. The ex-archon moved slowly, every movement lax but domineering, blankets getting pushed to the edge until he hovered fully over Childe, caging him in as gloved hands found purchase on the bed beside his ears. Dark hair falling off Zhongli’s shoulder tickled his collarbone. “You will not seek another partner.” He said, the words reverberating from his chest. Steadily, the air in the room became denser, the Prime Adepti withdrawing his restraints. Childe’s eyes rolled to the back of his head—blanking out—in tandem with Zhongli leaning down to speak into his neck where his own scent spilled. “This will be mine to take.” A deep inhale followed, a fan of hot breath the only thing to be felt. Unknowing of how long he dazed out for, Childe came to with heavy blinks. He was staring at the wall instead of the ceiling, suffocating on thick air which prompted him to swallow down saliva. But he found he couldn’t for his mouth was full, slowly processing that he had lunged up and sunk his teeth into Zhongli’s now bare shoulder. There were hands on his waist, slipping under his shirt. His own hands were clenched around Zhongli’s wrists, pushing away. “So… you are rejecting me.” Zhongli chuckled. “I suppose it is fair given your anger.” He removed his hands from Childe’s waist, guiding one to tug at ginger locks. Childe didn’t budge, mindlessly squeezing his jaw tighter with a growl. Wordlessly, Zhongli took his spare hand and wrapped it around the Harbinger’s throat, hovering there for a moment in warning before clamping down. Wrangled off Zhongli’s shoulder by force, Childe snarled, chest heaving with effort. The hand on his throat did not let up until he was subdued, coughing on a permitted inhale. He couldn’t think, white noise clouding his mind, acting on impulse alone. Zhongli moved once again, fingers still tangled in Childe’s hair to keep him still while the other hand slid up a thigh. In the next second a foot lodged itself into Zhongli’s chin. The two strained against each other, two pairs of eyes locked in a standoff. Despite the list of ailments forcing his breaths to come out as pants and the sheen of sweat covering his skin, Childe did not back down. Zhongli narrowed his eyes. “Why do you resist?” He asked, uncharacteristic frustration laced in his voice. Childe could taste it in the air and his neck strained to the side unwillingly due to it while still pushing against Zhongli. The fingers in his hair tightened. He wheezed out whatever he could manage. “Not good enough.” The answer seemed to baffle Zhongli whose grip loosened. Childe watched through lidded eyes as the other’s face slowly morphed into confusion and somewhere deep inside Childe laughed at the display of ego the usual Zhongli would subdue with humble words. Haughtiness was short lived for Zhongli pulled back completely, Childe ironically missing the contact like neurons had been severed. His eyes widened in time with Zhongli’s shoulders spreading out, taut with tension as slitted eyes began to gleam. With a faint hue of light encompassing him, Zhongli’s frame began to morph, gaining mass. An exhale… and then there were curved, branching horns sprouting from dark hair, gold trickling down his darkening arms like blood until it settled into thrumming geometrical emblems. Life carved into stone, large and imposing to the mortal underneath. The lamp flickered with the changing pressure of the room, silhouetting Zhongli who was identifiable only through the cor lapis that shone through the cracks of his being. An elegant tail whipped itself once in a prideful entrance. “This is not good enough?” He questioned. The authority of Rex Lapis shot through Childe and it was too much, body going rigid and heart beating twice in painful arrhythmia. He couldn’t find his breath through the swath of pheromones and his vision went white, nearly foaming at the mouth. Even still, he shook his head through delirium in adamance. There was movement but he couldn’t tell what was happening. Weight was displaced, air thinning out. Hands grabbed at him. “—ilde. Childe.” There was a voice urging him to consciousness. He blinked furiously until he could focus on the blurry outline of the Geo Archon. Ex-archon a bitter part of his brain reminded. The other’s jaw was grating into itself—that was the first thing he honed on. Then it was the contorted snarl of a mouth, fangs displayed threateningly, followed by the deeply conflicted serpentine eyes above the scrunched nose. “Then I will find a partner for you. I cannot let you continue like this.” Zhongli’s words coursed a fleeting wave of sobriety through Childe and he jolted toward him, hand snagging a bicep. “No.” He yelped in panic, the burst of energy knocking him back into pseudo-hyperventilation. Zhongli moved back into his space, hushing him as luminescent fingers pressed on his neck. A voice came from the mouth pressed onto his forehead, nose buried in his orange locks. “The hospital then.” Zhongli said after a long, savoring inhale. He moved like it was the final decision, shifting arms underneath his body so that he could hold Childe to his chest once more. It took until they were out of the bedroom doorway for the Harbinger to process what was happening and he grappled for Zhongli’s attention frantically by straining himself up so their heads were level. “No—” He sobbed, squeezing arms around Zhongli so his hands could claw into sculpted muscle. The thought of Zhongli leaving him now was impossibly worse than any physical trial he had gone through thus far. “No, please.” It hurt to speak and it hurt to think of speaking, hopeless to convey his thoughts in a proper manner. Childe had begun to enter a dreadful state of despair, feeling his lungs constrict in frustration. He clung to Zhongli as if it were his lifeline, trembling from fatigue. Uncertainty could be felt through the tensing fingers supporting him and Zhongli took a moment to reply. “Then what do you want?” Being asked yet another question irrationally spurred an angry gnaw of Childe’s teeth in reunion with Zhongli’s flesh—right on the ex-archon’s cheek. He bit down, clear snot and saliva running incessantly down his chin, crazed tears quickening the flow. Zhongli did not respond this time while Childe remained ignorant to the visible conflict straining Zhongli still. The other’s eyes clouded in and out, pupils blotting out irises. A hand unconsciously moved to glide over Childe’s tailbone, inching further down. It elicited a gritty moan, brain short circuiting, mouth snapping away. Immediately, Childe became hyper aware of the sweat coating his body, pain ignored for a brief second to pinpoint where their bodies touched and the soaked condition of his clothes, pooling uncomfortably in an area he’d rather not acknowledge. “Bath.” He finally answered, nearly biting his tongue with how quick he shot the word out. Everything began to snapshot from there; to the bathroom, to the tub faucet running deafeningly, to the discarding of clothes and tumbling limbs. A grunt of embarrassment to the coat of warm water and the ensuing sigh. One body meeting another underneath the liquid blanket surrounded by porcelain. Slipping over skin chest to chest, trapped together by the small confines. Childe laid like a dead man, chin sunken to become submerged in the bath while the rest of his face remained plastered to Zhongli’s sternum. An unknowable amount of time passed. “Childe.” Fingers traced up his spine, the tail that curled out and over the bath onto the floor twisted with agitation. A shiver. “Please… permit me to assist you.” The Harbinger stuttered an inhale, stomach brushing against the hard length prodding from below that he tried and failed all attempts to ignore. It was lined with ridges and grooves, that much was deduced, and the size… Childe ached with desire through his haze. He did not give a reply, slipping further into the water to where his bottom lip barely stayed afloat, back arching down so his abdomen pressed firmly. Zhongli groaned, the base of his head knocking back into the porcelain. “Childe, I know the unfortunate events that precede our relationship have upset you but—” Zhongli’s eyes shut in wavering concentration. “But if you allow me the chance, I would gratuitously accept the opportunity to court you.” Golden hands drug water across Childe’s back in their journey to pull thighs forward, cupping underneath his ass, bending him upward and over into the ex-archon’s lap. “If you would permit me to help you then—” Face now burrowed in Zhongli’s shoulder, Childe scratched down Zhongli’s sides. “N—no.” The fingers on his thighs twitched and, following a deep inhale on his nape, moved inwards. Childe lurched further into Zhongli's lap with a poorly contained whine, shuddering when Zhongli’s cock rubbed against his cunt. He could practically feel his slick flowing out and tainting the bath. With unsteady breathing Zhongli spoke again. “What is it that you wish? Please, I will go through the lengths needed to grant you whatever you desire.” A daring finger prodded at slick coated skin, sliding upward to press against his clit. Childe bit him again with a jolt, pathetic growl dying before it could make it past his throat. Zhongli took the rejection half heartedly, pausing in his motions but not withdrawing. “There is no one else suited for you like I; no one else would treat you as well, no one strong enough to be as worthy.” He resumed, whole hand moving further to stroke fingers down his folds, stopping at the line of his hole to bear pressure—not enough to intrude. He mouthed over Childe’s ear, murmuring into it. “Please baobei…” At the verge of self-destructing, Childe heaved into Zhongli’s shoulder, wriggling under his touch so much so that Zhongli’s fingers slipped in unintentionally. Water splashed over the rim of the tub in tandem, Childe a violent surge of reacting chaos that Zhongli continued to coax, streams of sweet nothings flooding like a loose dam. “Allow me to pleasure you, just like this—“ Fingers curled, Childe curling with them. The stimulation was blinding, even this much. But he had resisted this far, he would milk it for all its worth.
“No, try harder—“
Zhongli growled at him then, growing desperate and maddened by it all. The ex-archon groped all along Childe’s body, raking nails over battle scars with dizzying speed as if they couldn’t decide which body part to pull, to squeeze. One hand found purchase on his head, pressing it close to the shoulder it rested on. There were lips on his neck, kissing and sucking possessively. Between nips of flesh Zhongli seethed through teeth. “I desire you—I have desired you.” He donned a disgruntled face, flushed with disbelief at the words he was allowing himself to say. “Please let me have you, let me feel the weight of myself inside you, I will fill you up so good. No one could—“ Childe interrupted, overloaded and embarrassed, shushing the words the other gained confidence in the longer they were spoken. “Ok! Ok… you can—'' No other validation was needed for Zhongli who surged up from the bath, water erupting everywhere. Carrying Childe who had become dead weight once again, Zhongli returned them to the bedroom and, as if there were a timer counting down, urgently tossed him to the bed, spread legs apart, and delved a tongue straight into his hole. With a shout, Childe latched onto the horns on Zhongli’s head, thighs clenching strongly around the face buried between them. Words blocked by thick saliva pooling in the back of his throat, Childe thrashed in the sheets when a thumb joined the assault, diligently rubbing against his clit after being roughly yanked to the edge of the bed, pressed apart by thick shoulders. Obscene squelching filled the air. Choking down his spit Childe finally managed a, “Slow down!” before a timely wail, snapping like a bow string as an orgasm was harshly pulled from him. Setting jolting legs down, Zhongli settled over Childe, biting on a nipple and smearing the slick on his face all over. “No.” Trembling knees were hoisted over shoulders. “Your body is failing.” And like Childe’s body wanted to prove that point, he inhaled a cough, lungs spasming and blood shot from his nose in an alternate path due to the failed expulsion. Zhongli drug his now grossly lengthened tongue over the mess, flicking it to his mouth while he lined his cock to the other sopping mess below. Simply a rag doll to the dragon, mind drunk on alpha pheromones and fully submerged into his heat, Childe didn’t even flinch as Zhongli began to press in, lips forming soft moans hidden behind his hands. The tip of Zhongli’s dick entered with little resistance, hole already relaxed and greedy, slipping in and out and when pulled closer together—Childe folded into an angle he never knew he could fit in. Zhongli rubbed it between his folds as dark forearms locked in place by his head. Childe felt the girthy ridges of the humanoid dick frotting against his pussy, missing the goal, and he entered a state of hysteria, instantly crying as pure need welled up inside of him, waves of tears building up to fall. Vision somewhere nearby, hydro from the water dripping off their bodies formed a small blade in Childe’s hand, the Harbinger jammed it under Zhongli’s chin threateningly. Understanding the message, Zhongli smiled and leaned down to mouth over Childe’s lips, blade piercing through flesh. Childe’s eyes widened in shock at the act before they rolled back into his head, Zhongli sparing him no mercy as the entirety of his cock was shoved in all at once. The hydro blade diffused, hand coated in the blood it drew clutching to Zhongli’s shoulder instead. The other dragged his cock back out terribly slow before slamming it in with a resonating slap, balls pressed completely to the curve of ass. He repeated the process like this, pointedly slow but powerful, kissing and shoving his tongue into Childe’s mouth for the other to choke on with no regard for the way the Harbinger spluttered for breath, unable to get a word out. Finally, Childe pawed his hands over Zhongli’s face, ushering it away, straining. “Faster.” He exhaled quickly, anticipating that it could be his only chance to speak. Assuming correctly, Zhongli effortlessly pushed against the hands and, with another ram of his cock back into his walls, returned to stealing Childe’s oxygen when the other gasped out. “No.” He replied when pulling back, deciding to suck the bloody hand that had persisted over his eyes, tugging fingers into his mouth to clean them sloppily. Childe panted. Another slow drag out. “I do not need to ruin you in order to knot you.” Another slam pushed Childe further up the bed, lodged into pillows. His head threw itself back, trying in any way to free himself from the assault. Zhongli dropped the hand away in favor of nosing his face into the span of the omega’s neck, gulping the air there like he needed it to live. “I will breed you just like this; where you can memorize every inch of me deep—right here.” And a hand kneaded over his abdomen, above the bump where Zhongli’s cock reached at his navel. Childe cried. He wanted to make a remark on how no one said anything about breeding but could only whine and gasp pathetically, hyper-attentive to the way he was quite honestly impaled by Zhongli’s length. Sympathetic but resolute, the ex-archon shushed him as the pace continued, sucking a bruise below his ear. It was far too much with only so little. Childe coiled and expanded as much as he was allowed under the weight crowding him, spastic under the mentality of being trapped, and audibly grieving in chants of “It’s so big, it’s so big.” He clawed at the cage, drooling over himself, minuscule hydro blades slicing divots across Zhongli’s arms and back and the ex-archon only groaned. Slow drag out, a brutal thrust in—heavier this time. A long, high pitched moan tore through Childe, the noise completely foreign to them both, but it drew a thrumming growl from the alpha. It was too much, too intimate, while also still not being enough. A random burst of pain in his stomach sent one of a Childe’s hands—hydro blade in tow—staking into the mattress. Zhongli was on him immediately, lathering him with pheromones and invading sensitive spots to caress. But Childe was already too frayed at every corner, hormones absolutely haywire so he processed the sudden pain in the midst of pleasure as his own fault. “I’m sorry—” He weeped, balling up again. Hurts. Terrible. Terrible. Terrible. He must not be good enough, that is why he hasn’t been knotted yet. That is why he’s hurting. Childe openly sobbed, inconsolable no matter what Zhongli attempted to say or do, not even continuing with the thrusts of his hips broke the disposition. Amber eyes assessed the breaking omega before him, mind running rampant in consideration when one particular heavy sob from Childe had the warmth around his cock constrict tightly. Instincts clawed at his mind to take over. A large hand pinned the messy orange head roughly onto the bed—nearly sending it impacting onto the headboard—while pulling out from the soaking wet heat he had become accustomed to. Zhongli ignored the wail it caused, irises completely shadowed by his pupils replicating a solar eclipse. A single azure eye blinked up angrily from where Childe remained trapped on a pillow, puffy and still crying. Licking his lips, Zhongli repositioned himself with one hand holding the waist before him, sliding effortlessly back into Childe who stopped breathing at the motion. The Harbinger tied his legs around Zhongli, chest rising for the other to appreciate with his arms bent up, fingers tangled in the sheets, anticipating. Needy. The alpha felt himself drool, vision blacking out, and the hand on Childe’s head slammed down to join its brother in the vice grip on Childe’s waist. In this form his clawed thumbs reached each other, cinching the omega’s waist like a corset. “Zhongli. Rex Lapis—” Childe rasped, eyebrows scrunched together in a pitiful plea. Zhongli himself lost composure, teeth bared in a snarl, tail thrashing behind them. And he drove into Childe, still deliberately slow but brutally forceful, reaching further than before. Childe was babbling, hiding behind his arms, a total wreck spouting gibberish. “It’s so deep I can’t—AH—Zhongli, Zhongli please I need—mngh—you have to—it’s so—AHH!” He gave up on hiding behind his arms, revealing his debauched face for the other in all its snotty, spit covered, tear soaked glory. Zhongli felt himself throb at the sight of it, committed the picture to memory, then swooped down when he couldn’t take it anymore to send fangs gnashing into the side of the pale neck below. Childe screamed. The Harbinger came again, jolting like he had been electrified with each thrust Zhongli continued to drill into him without pause, hands scrambling over the head sunken into his neck to bring it even closer, noisily shouting expletives. Zhongli’s knot began to form immediately after, gradually gaining in size and pulling at the rim of Childe’s battered and leaking hole. The other grew increasingly restless at the feel of it, tugging and tugging to try and bring them closer despite being flush against one another, moaning with unrestrained fervor into Zhongli’s ear. The ex-archon breathed into the neck his teeth drew blood from, growling, obsessively bruising the skin at Childe’s hips, and his impressively consistent tempo became irregular. Soon he began to rut into the Harbinger like a feral dog, spurred on by the volume of Childe’s singing. His teeth detached themselves from Childe’s neck for a single breath before diving into the other side to deliver a similar fate, thrusting in once, twice, three times before his knot would not tug itself free, crushing himself into the heat with a loud groan as he came deep within the omega. They shuddered around each other, Zhongli pulsing and jerking to continuously attempt to burry his seed in as far as possible, grinding. Laying claim. He removed his now bloodied face from Childe’s neck to slobber over the other’s mouth, hands carding through hair to support the head below, kissing and tugging at the abused lips which gasped and whined in response. Calming down, their kissing became slow and chaste, mindlessly indulging in the other with resonating purrs. As soon as the alpha shifted them so they lay in opposite positions Childe flopped down onto his chest and into unconsciousness. Fretting, Zhongli hoisted pillows and the sheets around in the semblance of a nest, overprotective and over-infatuated with the endorphin wave. He continued to kiss the forehead on top, nuzzling over to clean the mess he made of Childe’s neck with languid laps of his long tongue, hands massaging the omega’s body with wandering affection. His fingers twitched in temptation at Childe’s ass, caving in no time at all, groping the cheeks apart to trace where they remained connected with a shudder. Zhongli could feel his knot deflating slightly and fiendish desire struck him, an experimental squeeze of Childe’s ass, pulling down in time with a grind upwards, sending any remaining rational logic down the drain as he continued to stay hard. His dick was twitching, balls aching once more. It would be beneficial to knot him one more time… for safe measures of course. This was a serious health related matter after all. So he continued his motions as such for a little longer, gently thrusting into the heat which gladly welcomed his ministrations. It felt a little wrong—with the other wholly knocked out and unknowing in a peaceful sleep—but Zhongli was beginning to grow insatiable, wanting more and more. He ground them together gently until he could not take it anymore, sitting up with the omega in tow so Childe’s back flopped onto the bed. The alpha then flipped him over flat onto his stomach, kneading his ass graciously. Zhongli settled over Childe’s back, hoisting himself up on his elbows planted by the sides of the omega’s head, dick fitting into the split of the other’s ass. He let it throb there for a few moments, feeling the trickle of cum and slick that made everything slippery and he grumbled in pleasure. With a few sloppy thrusts his dick caught the rim of Childe’s cunt and he slowly sunk in, slightly preening. Idly, Zhongli slammed his cock into the Harbinger who did not wake, relishing the quiet breathy gasps that were pushed out. Eventually the ex-archon grew impatient, displacing weight to press Childe into the bed with his chest, nose returning to the marred neck, hands fitting into the bruises on the other’s waist. Almost frantically he rammed in, the Harbinger’s waist getting lifted from the bed more and more for better access the longer Zhongli railed into him. The alpha indulgently sought his own pleasure from the other, needing more, possessiveness overriding any consideration. With a frustrated gasp he sat up onto his haunches, dragging the limp Childe with him where they were connected, taking the time to marvel at the scarred back side presenting for him. He shivered, utterly pleased. Continuing on, Zhongli slammed them together with renewed vigor, tail whipping violently and knocking pillows off the bed. The talons on his fingers broke through skin, jolting a guilty pause for only half a second before morbid fascination took over and he clawed one steady swipe down Childe’s back. Blood bubbled up from the lines instantly. Excellent. In the same instance blue eyes shot open in confusion and panic, hands shooting to fumble for purchase on the bed with a shocked yell. Childe choked out a hoarse “What are you—“ before Zhongli brutally anchored his hands onto the Harbinger’s shoulder blades, thumbs linking around the base of the omega’s neck. He pounded himself in, Childe forced to take it, honed in on the unmarked nape, mind buzzing with static. The other could barely get any sound out, pressed deep into the bed with a flushed face, crushed. Childe couldn’t say it didn’t completely thrill him. So he lay there and let the other use him, whining when Zhongli’s knot began to fill out once more, sheets thoroughly becoming soaked from the drool escaping his mouth. He arched himself into it, smiling deliriously when the alpha growled and then laughed when the pace quickened. Childe brokenly moaned out the other’s name as sultry as possible before reaching a hand underneath to spread his lips apart with his fingers, panting needily from the feel of all of Zhongli ramming in and out of him at the entry point. It must have done wonders for the ex-archon because immediately after there was a heavy hand covering all of Childe’s neck, the rhythmic thrusting disordered in timings of four before a final grind in, the other roaring. Blinking stars from his eyes, Childe came to with the sound of loud growling, the feeling shaking through his entire body from the chest draped over his back. He tried to shift his head to look behind, but the growling intensified, jolting him still. Curiously he brought a hand up and over, feeling the silken hair curtaining everywhere, moving to find the curved horns, before fumbling to his neck where the hand pressed down. His finger jammed into the side of Zhongli’s mouth and a hot flush traveled straight to his core at the realization Zhongli’s fangs were biting deep into the flesh. The omega shakily gasped before purring, cunt throbbing, compelled to push back onto the cock spearing him in pure glee. He moved both hands to massage the head on top, squirming and whining. Zhongli did not move, ground into place, huffing and puffing. Childe took one hand to weasel it between his legs, rubbing whatever he could of Zhongli’s cock—the dragon still growling and probably still cumming—before bringing the digits to his clit. It did not take much, the writhing only pressing the alpha’s knot harder onto his sensitive walls, the angle enough to feel how the cock distended his abdomen rubbing on the bed. When the Harbinger began cursing profusely, Zhongli finally unlatched fangs from the hand over Childe’s neck, relocating the bloody appendage to shove fingers down his mouth, the other hand moving underneath to cup his throat. There was a light bite down on the exposed nape. It sent an intense electric shock through his entire body, half in anxiety and half in elation, fingers slipping as he came blindingly with a cry around the bloody pads in his mouth. Zhongli brought both of them up to lay down on his back, propping Childe up by hands on the marked skin so that the omega remained sitting on the dragon's cock through the orgasm. Childe was gaping like a fish, legs clenching and unclenching around the thick thighs spreading him apart, hopelessly grinding down further onto the knot with each spasm even though it was overstimulating. He sobbed, riding out the wave that didn’t seem to end, Zhongli harshly thrusting up every so often to bring him back. When the knot eventually deflated, Zhongli roped the omega back into his arms and chest, peppering the other in kisses with a tight, suffocating squeeze. Childe only grumbled out tiredly, nuzzling himself into Zhongli. Every part of his body felt like warm goo, but most noticeably was that the feeling of actively dying was gone. Amazing—spectacular even. He shifted and reached up to hold Zhongli’s face with both hands who stared at him quizzically. “You owe me a fight.” He said weakly, vocal cords destroyed. “And don’t do this with anyone else ever again.” Sleep pulled at his mind, distantly he could hear Zhongli’s tail thumping against the bed. “Of course, baobei.” “And my bed is ruined, fix it.” “Yes, baobei.” “And my back hurts, why is your dick so big…” Childe continued on until words became murmurs and then soft breathing, asleep and content.
—
Ekaterina stared at Childe who stared back at her impassively and waiting, the two locked in a staring contest. They were in his office at Northland Bank, morning light creeping through the windows. “Sir…” She began but did not finish, unknowing where to even begin. The Harbinger gave a questioning smile. “Yes?” His secretary sighed, choosing to drop it. They had not seen each other for about a week, and even though she had worried profusely, her boss had returned bright and cheery this very morning. And as reassuring as it was, any exposed skin on his body was marked in various bites, bruises, and scratches. Really, had he no shame? “Ekaterina,” She nodded her head and he grinned. “Schedule dinner for tonight with Zhongli.” She couldn’t help the grumble that Childe grinned wider at. “Yes, Master Childe.”