Tartaglia 🐳 Childe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
misfittoys) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hydrangeabloom2023-10-21 10:29 pm
misfittoys) wrote in hydrangeabloom2023-10-21 10:29 pmMafia AU
[ A tale of two people leading double-lives and the inevitable misunderstandings that follow ]
misfittoys) wrote in hydrangeabloom2023-10-21 10:29 pm
no subject
And he was doing so well, too, hah! maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was doing awful, but that little amount of restraint and resolve crumpled under the weight of one very small and yet momentous realization.
Zhongli wants this too (wants it more possibly than Ajax himself).
Ah, but then there is the talk of loss, and that disconcerting feeling returns. Is there a price to pay for fanning the spark that has ignited between them? Ajax thinks not— despite knowing how risky it is to draw a civilian into his gravity. (And a native of Liyue at that. One of Morax's own.) But Zhongli seems to think that paying some price is an inevitability and not in the way the Land of Contracts preaches fairness and equal exchange.
Ajax turns to Zhongli, brushes a kiss to his temple at the touch to his knuckle. His grin is probably tangible as the loose bits of their clothes brush together in a soft swish of fabric and almost mockery of what they could be doing now instead of looking at worn stones used to kill time by people who were long gone from this world. ]
Sounds like a game I would be terrible at.
[ He laughs against Zhongli's skin, tilting his body just enough so he can mouth at the shell of Zhongli's ear with the camera none the wiser. He guides Zhongli not so gently then, pulling him to take a half dozen more steps that draw them farther and farther for that watchful blinking light. ]
I don't like to lose anything.
no subject
The press of Ajax’s mouth against his temple is warm, fleeting, scandalously familiar, and it stuns Zhongli more effectively than any blade, any bullet ever could. His breath catches, a small, private gasp that curls tight behind his teeth.
He is so used to being manhandled into safety by those sworn to him: Xiao’s sharp, no-nonsense hands pulling him from crumbling stone, Ping's gentle but firm shepherding when he forgets his limits, even Ganyu’s rare, trembling grip when things turned too dire. Ajax’s touch is no shield or command, only the bright, impulsive pull of someone who simply wants him closer. Wants him for the sake of wanting. No contracts. Only that reckless, singular hunger, glittering and terrible and sweet, and Zhongli lets himself be guided with startling ease, almost stumbling in his steps from the sheer unthinking willingness of his body to follow.
Their shoulders brush again, firmer this time, Ajax’s body warm and solid at his back as he guides him a few steps away from the blinking, mechanical gaze of the security cameras.
There is something terribly delicious in it. The motion softens him from the inside out, the dangerous, private little smile of a man who has survived long enough to know what he is risking and is willing to wager it anyway.]
You seem to have a rather competitive streak, [Zhongli murmurs, gold eyes bright with an indulgent, affectionate glimmer as he lets Ajax pull him along.] One I had not been aware of.
no subject
[ Ajax laughs as if it was no big deal.
As if it wasn't that competitive streak those helped him rise through the ranks of the Fatui until he was the youngest Harbinger among Her Majesty's trusted. That same competitive streak that made him turn his back on years of dusty school books and their promise of an office job when his ailing father grew too sick to put bread upon the table. As if it wasn't the catalyst for what made Ajax slide into the seat opposite of Zhongli that day on his way back from dropping Teucer off at school— for what was more depressing than a challenger without a worthy opponent.
But still, he knows how off-putting it can be to the people around him. There's a reason on diplomatic missions he has to be babysit by an elder Harbinger. There's a reason they send him off on the craziest of missions and still they remain incredulous when he returns alive after each and every one. There's a reason why his parents politely take the money offered and don't ask too many questions.
The red light of the security camera is now hidden from their view while Tartaglia does the mental calculation of where the other three closest ones are. Not in line of sight. They're ghosts in the system now, perfectly placed out of the vision of those who might be spying.
If he were on a mission, this is the point where the target would disappear either to be hand-delivered to the Tsaritsa herself or never to be seen by anyone ever again.
(Mister Zhongli really should be worried about the company he keeps.) ]
That's just the natural conclusion of being the middle child.
[ Ajax doesn't quite look at Zhongli— not directly anyway as he peers at him out of the corner of his eye. He tries to force himself to relax. Be chill about this, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Tonia chides him in his head after he had gushed one too many times about the handsome stranger he'd met at the park. While Mister Zhongli may be fond of Ajax (just as Ajax is endeared by him in return), Tartaglia's level of competitiveness was not everyone (or anyone's) cup of tea. ]
Does it bother you? I can tone it down.
[ Ajax squeezes the hand in his almost apologetically. ]
I guess the prize was just too tempting that I got a liiiiiittle carried away. Aha!
no subject
Middle child, he said. Zhongli lets the phrase turn over in his mind, warm and strange. He wonders about Ajax’s family, the shape of it, the pressure of it. He can imagine it now: not in clear shapes, but in tone and impression. A busy household. Noise. Expectations. Maybe even absence, heavy in the rooms between. The kind of home that carves a man into someone so hungry for wins, and still so good at offering laughter like it costs him nothing.
There’s a moment where Zhongli thinks of saying something tender, something careful.
But then Ajax squeezes his hand and throws in that last line, breathless and apologetic and entirely too charming for his own good, and Zhongli only laughs softly, golden and low, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leans in just enough to brush his shoulder back against Ajax’s.]
Not bothered, no. Just, ah, pleasantly surprised.
[His tone is gentle, almost musing, but there’s a glint behind his eyes that says he’s enjoying this more than he lets on. He tilts his head slightly, as if studying Ajax anew.]
I see. Truly, like a middle child, you were quick to tease me for being the eldest.
[He shifts closer, casually, sinfully, until the scent of cologne and museum dust hangs between them. His lips hover by Ajax’s ear, the space between them tightening like a held breath.] Curious. Clearly, I haven’t tempted you enough, then.
[He pulls back just enough to meet Ajax’s gaze again, eyes rich and amused, his expression unreadable save for the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.]
no subject
Oh no. No no no. You can't think like that, xiansheng. You've been very tempting. Unbearably tempting. You're so smart and hot and fun and clever and—
[ (Did he mention hot?)
Childe's voice trails off then, cheeks pink on how he sounds like a teenager with their first crush babbling nonsense as soon as they had overcome their nerves. Because while all the compliments were true, there should be a certain charm in how they are given. A charm that Childe thought he was capable of until just that small hint of a smile from Zhongli caused his whole everything to short-circuit.
Archons, he wants to kiss him again.
And so he does. Sort of. Childe's free hand finds the nape of Zhongli's neck and holds him there, a little too unforgiving to be just a supportive touch as he presses his lips against Zhongli. He wants to press deeper, teases at it with a press of teeth that is not quite a nip to Zhongli's bottom lip. Wasn't this just another escalation in their game of attraction? Just another challenge for Childe to meet, or no— surpass.
But Tartgalia is disciplined (somewhat) and the majority of Childe's knowledge about romantic endeavors came from Tonia, which always boiled down to treating one's partner right.
So the words that spill out are messy, rushed, and almost entirely unused to falling from his lips: ]
You have to tell me when to stop, mmmkay? S'not my strong point.
no subject
Ah, how refreshing, when one is so often surrounded by cold-blooded killing machines, Childe feels vivid, alive, warm. But before Zhongli can even offer a response, a deflection or a tease or something courteous and soothing, the kiss finds him, not tender, not poised. A hungry, uneven thing, a little rushed, and all the more affecting for it. The hand at the nape of his neck startles a small gasp out of him, the force behind it jarring him from amused composure to something far closer to breathless. Ajax kisses like he’s answering a question that was never meant to be asked aloud, like it’s inevitable.
And Zhongli, in turn, meets it with a sigh, after that first gasp, with a roll of his shoulders, a subtle shift of his stance, parting his lips to let the edge of those teeth graze him, teasing. Like allowing a cub to test their small fangs into flesh.
Still, it’s the words that follow that steal the breath from his lungs more than the kiss ever could. As if Zhongli has not spent years pulling people back from cliffs. As if he doesn’t know how to retreat, how to raise walls, how to silence a battlefield with one low command. As if he is in any danger here, when the only thing pressing at his ribs is the fact that someone asked. That someone offered to be reined in. How beautiful, even if Ajax isn't aware of the ease with which Zhongli can change this situation around. He is undone by courtesy. By Ajax's care.
So he huffs something between a breathless chuckle and a sigh and lets his forehead fall against Childe’s, their noses brushing as he closes his eyes. He feels very young, perhaps even younger than Ajax himself. Like he's back to being a student, still unaware of the full weight and breadth of everything he'd carry, letting his heart flutter at sneaky kisses in a public place.] I will.
But for now, [ He presses a kiss to the corner of Ajax’s mouth. ] you haven’t reached that point yet.
no subject
(And another and another).
There's a camera to their left that doesn't quite capture the left side of the room, probably because there are no displays there except for decorative posters and decals carefully designed with ancient Liyue as inspiration. The hallway camera's view is also obstructed by a larger-than-life pillar, rich browns lined in geometric gold as it reaches toward the vaulted ceiling in some metaphor of how the earth holds up the sky or something equally poetic.
Ajax leads Zhongli to that spot now, eyes flicking quickly to both cameras before he slips a hand around him again. Or rather— slips one hand under his coat so his hand can rest not-quite-casually on Zhongli's hip, the smooth texture of perfectly ironed slacks pressed against his palm. Wandering fingers slowly and repeatedly trace the hem of the nearest pocket in what one might consider daring if not for the chess game the two of them played out in the open hall a few minutes before. ]
Do you also play this game of stones, Mr. Zhongli?
[ The board and corresponding pieces are worn down from the passing of millennia, but even so it's evident how carefully crafted some of the jade pieces are. Surely in such a game they would be the most valuable pieces on the board. Ajax cants his head to one side, perhaps deliberately drawing attention to the dragon carved from the same material that hangs from his ear. A little gaudy and a clashing with his own personal style, and yet Ajax would not dare go on a date with Zhongli without it. ]
Or are you more into just collecting pretty things?
I can see the appeal in both.