Chapter Text
If you asked him, Zhongli would consider himself a fairly decent employee— perhaps not Ganyu’s level of excellent, but that was a hard standard to meet. His boss liked to tell him otherwise, but that was more her personal amusement at seeing his angry response than any actual issue with his performance. Generally speaking, he liked to think he did his job well; he was very fond of tea, after all, and liked seeing all the people who came to the store to get theirs.
So he was doing what he did every day he came into work, being a good member of the team and wiping down the counter, bored out of his mind due to the lack of patrons (the middle of the day never did well with the college crowd, who tended to come in later) but refusing to admit it, when the chiming noise of the door opening startled him into dropping the rag on the floor.
Well. There was nothing else to do but remain the image of professionalism, was there? “Hello,” he said, praying his voice wasn’t muffled beyond recognition from where he was crouched on the floor (where did that rag go, honestly, it was literally just in his hand), “Welcome to Boo Tao’s. What can I get for you today?”
There was a very long pause, and then an uncertain male voice spoke. “Uhh… I don’t… know?”
Now that wouldn’t do at all. Zhongli emerged from his position, hair beginning to fall out of his ponytail, and promptly felt like falling down all over again. The man across the counter was… very pretty. Zhongli had always had a weakness for pretty things— he was something of a hoarder, if the trinket-covered walls of his apartment were anything to go by— and here was perhaps the prettiest person he had ever seen, standing there and squinting at his phone, the sliver of stomach exposed by the cropped shirt he was wearing causing Zhongli’s heart to beat uncomfortably loud in his chest.
Never before had he been so grateful for his general stoic demeanor, inwardly thanking the Archons that his expression remained unaffected. Coughing delicately, he addressed the man. “Sorry about that. What are you unfamiliar with? If you need a recommendation, I’d be more than happy to assist you.” There. That was perfectly normal sounding.
“Thanks, um…” the man’s eyes drifted down to his nametag, “Zhongli? I’m Childe. I don’t really know what I’m doing here— Keqing just told me I owed her a drink and sent me an address— so I think I need help.” Reaching an arm up to ruffle his hair (and exposing more of his stomach; Zhongli was half convinced he was going to die), Childe continued, dismayed, “I don’t even know what she likes!”
The name was familiar. “I know Keqing,” Zhongli reassured him, already inputting the order into the system with practiced ease, “She orders the same thing every time. Would you like anything else for yourself?”
Childe blinked. “I’ve never tried boba before,” he admitted, now squinting at the menu. Zhongli found himself working harder than he normally had to to conceal his amusement at the other man’s confusion. Childe beamed. “But it couldn’t hurt to try new things, and besides! You already said you would help me.”
“Yes, well,” Zhongli began, excited at the thought of teaching someone about the different types of tea they sold at the store. He rarely got someone who did not at least have something of an idea on what they would like to order; tea was a staple of Liyue Harbor, and boba stores like Boo Tao’s were quite easy to find, especially on campus. But Childe was very clearly not from Liyue, and so an opportunity was presenting itself. “There are different types of teas, in both hot and cold, though it is more common to order cold drinks at this kind of tea store, as hot tea is more suited to tea parlors. And, contrary to what the name suggests, tapioca pearls are only one topping out of many we offer… if you look at the menu you will see the others…”
Even when Zhongli had been listing off the differences of the drinks for the better portion of five minutes, Childe still listened earnestly, elbows propped on the counter and head bent over the menu Zhongli was using as a reference. “You sure know a lot,” he commented, “Have you worked here a long time?”
He could never stop himself when speaking about a subject that interested him. It was something Hu Tao (his boss) relentlessly teased him for, warning it would chase customers away and ruin her business. Zhongli flushed. “I have… it’s been, ah, let me think, three years now? I started when I first enrolled in university here. This is my fourth year.”
Brightening, Childe cheerfully exclaimed, “I’m a year younger than you! I transferred here this year from Snezhnaya. Oh— right. The tea… I’ll just get what you would recommend. I like sweet things, if it makes it any easier.” His phone made a chirping noise, and Childe fumbled around to turn the ringer off, glancing apologetically at Zhongli, who didn’t mind at all (there was no one else in the store), and then checking the message. “It’s Keqing,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll have to be quick.”
Zhongli smiled at him and instantly wondered if he was being too obvious. Had he used too much teeth? “That will be three thousand Mora,” he announced, raising an eyebrow at the sleek credit card Childe procured from the depths of the messy bag strung across his shoulder, and whisked himself off to prepare the drinks before he could have any opportunity to embarrass himself. He was still reeling from having first met the man while sprawled ungracefully across the floor.
Let’s see. Keqing always got the same drink, a taro milk tea that Zhongli privately thought was more for aesthetic purposes than genuine enjoyment. And for Childe… well, he did say something sweet, no?
Humming to himself as he worked, the lull of the machine a familiar presence and distracting him from the (very distracting) only other person in the store, he made the two drinks with practiced ease and sealed them quickly (that machine was his favorite, the plastic seal it created always immensely satisfying to watch happen). Childe, still lounging by the counter, was now typing furiously into his phone, thumbs flying at a speed Zhongli envied. He had never been a fast texter.
“Hey,” he called out, inwardly smiling at the way Childe startled, phone nearly falling out of his hands, “Here’s your drinks. The purple one is Keqing’s.”
“Thanks,” Childe said, sliding the one meant for him closer to where he was and lifting it, turning the drink around and peering at the ghost label curiously. “What is it?”
“Thai milk tea,” Zhongli answered. It matches your hair is what he could have said, but he held his tongue. Childe seemed to be confused by the way the lid worked, fingers moving to try and peel the plastic covering off completely. Zhongli instantly snatched the drink back, chastising him. “Not like that,” he said sharply, somewhat aghast, “Here, give me the straw.”
Not willing to wait three seconds for Childe to hand the straw to him, he plucked it out of his loosely held grip, paying careful attention to make the motion casual and avoid brushing their fingers together. Being completely unaffected by one’s surroundings took a lot more work than most people recognized. “Like this,” he instructed, punching the straw through the lid in one swift, practiced motion, “You can’t hold back on force or you’ll make a mess everywhere. It is extremely unpleasant.”
“That’s sick! It’s like you get to fight your drink before you drink it.”
Childe was truly an odd character. “I suppose you can think of it this way,” Zhongli said, not really knowing what to make of it. “You can just put the other drink in your bag; it’s sealed so it won’t spill.”
Even after Childe had left, Zhongli's mind kept going back to him, wondering if he enjoyed the drink and if he would ever come back to the store to try something else. He was caught up in the pleasant distraction the thoughts offered him when his phone buzzed.
Hu Tao: DID U FEED BOO TAO
Hu Tao: zhongliiiiiiiiiii
Hu Tao: u need to feed her pls do it i’ll be there in a little i have a new idea for a promotion
Zhongli sighed. Speaking of Boo Tao, where was the cat? Their mascot generally tended to be somewhere easily visible in the store, enjoying the attention she got from their patrons.
Zhongli: I have not fed Boo Tao yet. Do not worry. I am going to go feed her now.
Zhongli: Please refrain from attempting another unsuccessful promotion. The store is performing adequately without your interference.
Moving from his position behind the counter, he found Boo Tao napping lazily underneath a table, tiny paws stretched outward and languidly taking up as much space as she wished. Zhongli looked at her fondly for a minute, then began to coax her to eat the food he had set out, petting her head as quiet praise when she was done. She was much better suited to his care, he thought, though Hu Tao was a very admirable owner in her own right. Still, he often found himself wishing to simply take the cat back to his apartment with him, where she would be warm and comfortable surrounded by his many possessions, all very interesting to cats (though his roommate was allergic and thus would present an obstacle).
Returning to the counter and handling the few customers that made their way into the store, he found himself once again growing bored until Hu Tao herself came bursting through the entrance, holding a box overflowing with flyers that was entirely too large for her small stature. “Zhongli,” she cried, setting the box loudly on a table and startling the couple sitting by the window, “Look! I brought the flyers we can hand out for the promotion!”
Several of the flyers had fluttered down to the floor with the force by which Hu Tao had placed the box down. Zhongli, bending down to pick them up, rolled his eyes even though his face was out of view. She really was troublesome. “We do not need a promotion.”
“You haven’t even heard me out! I think it’s a great idea, personally. So get this: we’re going to have a promotional sale! All slushes will be 30% off. It’ll get people wanting to come to the store, and they’ll probably order something that isn’t discounted when they get here, too, so we can drum up way more business.”
Zhongli frowned down at the flyer he was holding, fingers absently trying to smooth a wrinkle from the glossy page of it from when it had fallen and noting the ‘ALL SLUSHES 30% OFF’ emblazoned across the top in bright red letters. There was just a small problem.
“People rarely tend to order slushes at this time of year. Summer has long ended.”
“It’s fine,” Hu Tao dismissed, waving her manicured hands as though they could erase Zhongli’s statement themselves, “Liyue never gets cold, anyway, and we could actually benefit. Show off the full menu, and all that, instead of just our most popular drinks.”
“I do not think it wise to—”
“Oh, you’re not fun,” she frowned, “Besides, I’m the one who makes the rules around here; you’re just my assistant. I know my track record isn’t the best, but I think this has great potential.”
Zhongli could easily recall the last promotion Hu Tao had brought to the store. “Well,” he conceded, shrugging his shoulders, “This seems to be a more standard promotional tactic, one that is typically offered by businesses in Liyue, unlike the last one. I had warned you that ‘buy three drinks and you may pet Boo Tao’ would hardly be considered a deal by anyone’s standards, yes?”
Hu Tao rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you were right, I get it. The people of Liyue have no taste.” The couple nearby finished their drinks and rose to leave, seeming grateful for the timing so they wouldn't have to sit in the store and witness the argument. “Thank you for coming!” she beamed at them, “Please do consider paying us a return visit sometime soon!”
Zhongli gnawed on the inside of his bottom lip, regarding her with mild disapproval. “They will not want to return after being so disturbed,” he sighed out, feeling his forehead crease into a frown. He didn't want wrinkles; he was already teased enough for seeming old as it was. With great effort he smoothed his face back out into his normal, practiced calm. “You are the boss. If you wish to implement the promotion, I cannot stop you.”
Technically, the store was her father’s, but it had been named for Hu Tao’s cat and she was the person in charge of the day to day management. Why someone so young was given such free reign over a store, Zhongli had no idea, but even he had to admit that, bar the promotional ideas and needless meddling into his personal life, she was a very nice employer. And the store had done well under her, decorated in butterflies and silk flower motifs, famous on campus for their wide array of teas and their feline mascot. Everyone enjoyed a cat cafe, even if the cafe in question had just the one cat.
“Hey,” Hu Tao called out, legs swinging from where she had hoisted herself on the table next to the overflowing box, “Did anything happen when I was gone?”
Zhongli blushed. “No,” he denied, fully aware that his failure to conceal his reaction meant that something had, in fact, happened.
“Something did happen!” she crowed triumphantly, hitting his arm in excitement. “What was it? Did you embarrass yourself? Am I going to have to see a negative review in the Teyvat Times?”
He was a bit offended. “Nothing of the sort. It was just a customer.” A negative review? Him? Admittedly, there had been that one very busy student with the blond hair and haughty expression who had no patience for his opinions on the appropriateness of darjeeling versus earl grey given the time of day and had left a very angry review in the paper, but she still came back. Hu Tao didn’t mind, either, having then gone and framed the commentary where it still sat, to his knowledge, on her desk. And aside from this, there had seldom been any complaint.
Hu Tao wiggled her eyebrows. “A customer?” she asked, voice high and teasing. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache. “So how cute were they on a scale of one to ten?”
Zhongli elected to ignore the question. “He was Keqing’s friend.”
“Wait,” Hu Tao stopped him, looking excited, “Is he the new one? From Snezhnaya? The one that Xiao hates?”
“If you are referring to Childe,” Zhongli responded primly, “then yes, that is him. I was not aware that Xiao and him were acquaintanced.” Had everyone else known Childe before him?
“Zhongli,” she said sympathetically, “You would know these things if you got out of the house more. Yeah, Xiao hates him. I couldn’t tell you why though; it’s just that yesterday he wouldn’t shut up about the guy. He seems pretty cool to me.”
“He is pretty,” Zhongli blurted out absently, only half paying attention to her and then immediately regretting it, eyes widening in shock and turning briskly away to go hide behind the counter.
“Wait, no, come back! I’ll help you with your crush— Zhongli! I can totally get you two together, I swear—” He was saved by the chiming of the door.
Turning to smile at the customer and very determinedly avoiding both Hu Tao’s knowing gaze and the acute embarrassment that was bound to set in later, he greeted the new arrival warmly and proceeded to bury himself in work for the remainder of his shift, pausing only to greet Chongyun, the high schooler that they had recently hired who he was very fond of, when he arrived to ease the burden as the store grew more crowded.
It was only when the last customer had left the premises and Zhongli removed his apron, tugging at the hem of his turtleneck and looking for his long coat, that he thought about what he had admitted to Hu Tao so freely. She was a dangerous person to entrust secrets to… even though she always meant well, sometimes her interference (and there was always interference) led to unfortunate outcomes, especially for Zhongli. He dreaded thinking about how she would act if Childe ever came into the store in front of her, already seeing her teasing Ganyu whenever Keqing (the whole reason this mess had even started, if you think about it) entered— if it was like that for Ganyu, who was much gentler than Zhongli and someone impossible to be mean to, he would surely face worse.
“Are you going to go?” He was a little surprised to see Chongyun approach him first. It had only been a few weeks since he had concluded his training and still was skittish, unsure of how to act despite Zhongli’s best attempts at making him feel at ease.
“Yes,” he smiled at the boy, “Would you like me to help walk you home? It is getting dark.”
Chongyun looked surprised at the offer but brushed him off, shaking his head and saying that he would be fine to get home on his own (“It’s not far!” he had said, more energetic than Zhongli had seen him). Still, he remained stationary where he stood outside, following the light blue head of hair that was illuminated by the streetlamps that lined all of Liyue’s streets until he could no longer see it. It never hurt to be careful, and all of the staff at Boo Tao’s was younger than him— was it not his role as their senior, then, to be mindful for their safety?
He then made the short trip back to his apartment, pushing the door open to be immediately met with loud laughter from the living room. “Zhongli,” his roommate cried, reaching over on the sofa to grab the remote and pause what he was watching, “You’re back. There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you, Venti,” Zhongli replied, Venti flapping his hand around as if to brush it off, “but I ate at work.” It was true. The store sold small snacks on top of their drinks, and in his effort to ignore Hu Tao he had eaten more of them than he would care to admit. “What are you watching?”
Venti lit up. “It’s Xinyan’s new documentary! Man, she’s so cool… I wonder if I’d ever get a chance to meet her. I have a lot of ideas for what she can do in her performances. You remember who Xinyan is, right?”
He was ashamed to say it had taken him a while to accurately be able to recall the singer, but he had made the effort to do so and now he was fully aware of who she was. “Of course I do. She is your favorite singer, so I have done my best to familiarize myself with her. But you work at a coffee shop and she is a trained professional. What can you teach her?”
Rolling his eyes, Venti dragged him down to sit with him, kicking his feet over Zhongli’s lap and caring little about the answering noise of protest. “I perform sometimes! And I go to school for music, so it’s not like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I just think that she’s being held back by her management; it’s such a shame.”
Zhongli thought about his schedule. His Economics major, something people thought was ironic, given his constant lack of Mora, wasn't currently very strenuous. It had always been easier for him to grasp the principles and theories behind Mora than the actual common sense of carrying it on his person— had it not been for his ability to pay for things using his phone (bless Fontaine for its breakthroughs in technology), he would lead a very difficult life in the undoubtedly capitalist Liyue (“Such a shame,” Venti had said mournfully the first time they met all those years ago at orientation, used to Mondstadt’s more free-spirited approach, “Capitalism is against my moral code”— perhaps one of the wisest things he had ever heard from the self-proclaimed bard).
What was the point of this train of thought, again? Sometimes his inner dialogue derailed even his own thought process. A hindrance, really. The gist of it was easy enough to recollect, though, and, determining that he had time to spend with Venti, Zhongli leaned back over to wrap a hand around the remote and poke at the buttons until he remembered which was the one that would make the video play again, then tucked himself against his friend to watch together.
Venti could never watch anything quietly, so it was no surprise when, a few minutes in, he began to chatter. And if there was anything to be said about Zhongli, it was that he, too, had a love of speaking when the topic interested him— likely the reason they got along so well. Noticing that Zhongli was not responding the way he normally did, though, he stopped the running commentary to prod at his shoulder. “Hey,” Venti said, poking him repeatedly, “Where’s your head at?”
“Ah, I apologize,” Zhongli said, sheepish at having been caught. He had seen a ginger man on screen, and given his current track record, that had quickly led to wondering about Childe. It had just been a long time since he had last found someone attractive... after Guizhong, his old girlfriend he was all but convinced he would marry, had passed he wondered if he ever would again. It had been long enough though, now, that he could look at others without feeling guilty, knowing she would want him to be happy. Really, though, it had been a while.
“I…” he continued haltingly, not knowing if he should actually proceed with the truth. But this was Venti, his closest friend, and perhaps he would be able to help. “There was. At the store today, I mean, I saw… a person.”
“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that, buddy.”
“He was very pretty,” Zhongli admitted, a bit sad at the thought of not seeing him again. “And he listened to my breakdown of the menu the entire time. I fear he will not return.” He then proceeded to list out every minute detail that occurred during their (admittedly very short) interaction, unable to stop himself once carried away.
“Hmmm,” Venti said when he finally finished, fingers tapping a restless pattern on the couch as he considered this. “They don’t call me a romance expert for nothing, you know. You came to the right person!”
He could not resist. “Did I?” Zhongli asked in fake wonder, purposefully schooling his face into a polite, guileless expression. “And how is the romance expert doing with the issue of Master Diluc?”
It was a low blow. Immediately, Venti’s countenance changed, his cheeks blooming pink and body withdrawing from where it had been close to Zhongli (who now missed the contact— Venti was a very good partner for cuddling). “Shut up,” he said, petulant, “he hasn’t come to the Liyue branch of the Angel’s Share in so long, and I haven’t been able to visit home, and— wait. Why are we talking about me? Stop trying to change the subject!”
“Sorry,” said Zhongli, who wasn't sorry at all. “What would you have me do, then, if you are so well versed in the ways of romance? It has been far too long for me to remember.”
Venti softened at that. “You know,” he said, reaching out gently, “It’s okay to… I mean, she wouldn’t want you to be alone all your life for her sake.”
“I know.”
“Good,” clapping, the other man switched back to being exuberantly loud. “So. Since you, old man, have been out of the field too long, I’m going to recommend a simple approach. Just write your number on his cup, or something, and tell him to text you. It’s a little Hallmark for my tastes, but you’re attractive enough that effort doesn’t really matter.”
Zhongli could only understand maybe two words out of that entire statement. “What is Hallmark?”
Venti groaned. “You’ve seen them! The cheesy romance movies! You like them, too, I can’t believe you don’t pay attention to who makes them. Anyway. Stop distracting me. If you see him next time you gotta write your number on his cup.”
“We use printed labels.”
“What?” Venti seemed upset by this. What was so wrong with printed labels? “I can’t believe this— I always knew the Angel’s Share was superior, but really? No markers? Does Hu Tao not respect the traditional arts?”
Zhongli did not think coffee shops writing names down by hand was by any means a traditional art, but it was pointless to argue with a Venti that had convinced himself something was true. He supposed it wouldn’t be too hard to do what the other was suggesting; after all, it relied on the off chance that Childe would come back, and he had never been a shy person. “I can find a marker to carry out your plan,” he sighed out, slightly apprehensive at taking Venti’s advice. “Is that it?”
“That should be enough,” Venti declared confidently, “I listened to what you said happened, and honestly he seems pretty into you. All you have to do is show interest, and bam! Hook, line, and sinker. Now,” he added, shifting tones, “I want to see him. What did you say his name was again?”
“What are you doing?”
“Finding his profile online! I have to make sure he’s good enough for you. Not just anyone will do.”
Well. Zhongli couldn’t say he wasn’t curious. “His name is Childe,” he informed him, leaning over to get a good look at Venti’s tiny, extremely-outdated phone, “He’s friends with Keqing.”
Venti cackled, going over to Keqing’s page and scrolling over to search through her following instead. “The one who hates you?”
“She does not hate me,” Zhongli answered, offended. “We just have different preferences for drinks and she did not take my suggestion kindly. But yes, her.”
“Found him!” Venti exclaimed triumphantly, rolling his eyes when Zhongli immediately snatched the phone out of his grasp to look at Childe’s page. “No, stop,” he continued, grabbing his phone back (rather childishly, in Zhongli’s opinion, but he was hardly any better), “You’ll accidentally like something ancient like you did the last time around. I don’t trust you; let me do it.”
There were a lot of pictures. Zhongli was fond of uploading his own pictures, too, but they tended to be of items he found pleasing to look at or ones someone else dragged him into. He had little interest in taking photos of himself, but treasured memories spent with friends were important to keep with him. Childe was similar— though there were plenty of individual shots, most of the profile was dominated by images of him smiling with Aether, who Zhongli recognized as Xiao’s friend, or Keqing herself, the bright purple of her hair clashing almost violently with Childe's orange. Further back, there were snowy images of him standing with a short, angry looking man and an intimidating blonde woman, as well as many, many pictures of what could only be his family, tiny ginger heads surrounding Childe’s taller frame.
“That is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen,” Venti said, stopping at a picture of Childe and one of his younger brothers, cheeks pressed against each other and flushed in the cold, clearly surrounded by snowflakes and both wearing ear muffs. Zhongli’s heart clenched. “He is cute, too. I definitely approve! He looks rich, which is good for you.”
“I have money.”
“Yeah,” Venti rolled his eyes, “How is it that you’re nowhere near as broke as I am but you still manage to make me pay all the time? At least with this guy it won’t be an issue.”
Unfortunately for him, he did not see Childe for the entire week. Life went on as normal— he went to class and sat where he always did, next to the same blonde woman who had left him his only negative review, and then went to work, where he was making steady progress in befriending Chongyun and attempted, to no success, to evade Hu Tao’s incessant questioning.
Perhaps Childe was not a fan of bubble tea, he mused, thinking it was well in the realm of possibility. Snezhnayans, from the little he knew about them, were more partial to warm drinks, and if not that, then certainly alcohol. If he had begun to look for a certain red head of hair whenever he went on one of his frequent walks around campus, that was no one else’s business. It couldn’t harm anything.
He was on one such walk when his phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Stopping abruptly, he fumbled in his coat’s pockets, which fit a surprisingly large volume of random odds and ends that Zhongli was always surprised by despite himself. Pulling the device out, he squinted at the screen.
Alatus: morax wtf
Alatus: that kid aether is friends with came to the store today?? he asked for you
Alatus: zhongli why are u talking to him how does he know u
Alatus: are u being coerced
Zhongli blinked. Xiao was always too worried on his behalf.
Zhongli: Aether is friends with over half of this school’s student body. You will need to be more specific.
Zhongli: I assure you, my child, I am not being coerced by anyone.
Alatus: FOR THE LAST TIME IM NOT YOUR KID
Alatus: i literally have parents
Alatus: this isn’t the point what was the point
Alatus: the tartaglia person
Zhongli: Childe?
Zhongli: He asked for me?
Alatus: yea i just told him to fuck off and asked for his order and then he didnt know what to get so i just did what hu tao said to do and said i recommended the slushes and i dont like him so i was like get the oreo slush
Alatus: u know the one no one likes bc its gross and tastes like a weird milkshake cosplaying as boba
Alatus: but he ended up liking it so i think he’s just sick in the head
Horror was the only thing Zhongli could use to describe his current state of emotions. Though he was loath to admit it, he was something of a tea purist— he was contract-bound, of course, to make whatever drink the person wanted, but it was well within his rights to gently guide them towards the actual tea selections. Childe, impressionable as he was, should not have been introduced to deviant beverages.
Zhongli: Xiao, this was uncalled for.
Zhongli: And no, I met Childe the other day. He was very pleasant. I don’t understand why you dislike him so.
Alatus: i didn't know he would like it wtf it's not my fault
Zhongli: Xiao.
Alatus: … sorry
Alatus: why are u defending him
Alatus: oh my god u like him dont u …
Zhongli: Yes. He is very attractive and I enjoyed his company. ^_^
Alatus: this is the worst day of my life
Smiling to himself, Zhongli returned the phone to his pocket, now walking with more excitement. If Childe had come back, and had asked for him, then he would surely return to Boo Tao’s at some point when Zhongli was working, where he could then give him his number and ask if he wanted to go to see the new geology exhibit at Liyue’s natural history museum.
He did not have to wait long to try and carry out Venti’s plan. Like the last time, Childe came nearly as soon as the store had opened, when there was never anyone present and Zhongli was slowly losing his mind to boredom. He had eventually had no choice but to start testing new drink combinations, pairing toppings with flavors and trying to come up with themed specials in time for the holiday season so Hu Tao wouldn’t nag him to figure it out later. It was, unfortunately, not going too well— he suspected that Ganyu would be able to figure it out, and decided to wait until then.
He was saved from having to resort to more imaginative methods for curing boredom, or, even worse, seeking out Hu Tao’s company, by Childe’s arrival, the other man beaming in a way that made him seem very endearing. “Hi, Zhongli! Do you remember me?” he asked, too energetic for Zhongli, who had been on the verge of falling asleep.
“Of course.” How could he not remember Childe? “Will it be the same as last time?”
“Nah, I think I found something I like more. Xiao helped me.”
This was a very serious problem. Ordinarily, he knew customers did not take kindly to having their drink choices be criticized, even if the criticism was both done in a gentle manner and was extremely valid. But Zhongli could not let Childe persist on the path Xiao had foolishly led him down. “Are we entirely sure an oreo slush is necessary? Perhaps you would like a fruit tea instead?”
“Maybe next time,” Childe replied, Zhongli’s traitorous heart missing the pressing issue at hand to flutter at the thought of a next time, “But I really liked the slush! How did you know, anyway?”
“Xiao is like a son to me,” Zhongli said, completely serious. “We are in regular correspondence. And he said you asked for me, so it only serves that he would let me know.”
Childe seemed to consider this. “Okay,” he declared eventually, “That makes sense. How much do I owe you?”
Even after paying, Childe made no move to leave from where had propped himself by the counter, looking entirely at home. “You know back home I worked in a cafe for a little,” he said conversationally, watching as Zhongli reluctantly made the slush, “To fill in for my friend— she’s kind of a bitch, so I didn’t want to at first, but it was fun so it worked out. This looks pretty similar even though it's not coffee.”
Pausing from where he was poised by the blender, Zhongli turned to look at the Snezhnayan man lounging across his counter. This was new information. “Really?” he asked, filing it away for later, in a section of his brain he had just now decided to devote to facts about Childe, “If you like coffee, I have a friend who works at the Angel’s Share. It might be more suited to your preferences, and is well known for being popular with couples.”
“No,” Childe drawled in response, looking at Zhongli with interest that was obvious even to him, “I think my preferences are suited just fine where they are now.”
So the matter of Childe not being interested had resolved itself rather nicely, Zhongli mused as he set about finishing the drink and finding a straw. The only issue with Venti’s plan, then, was that the grey of the slush made it so that any writing he did with the marker he had available (Hu Tao had seemed confused enough when he asked for the black one she gave him; he could not risk asking for another) would hardly be legible.
He was nothing if not practical, though, and modern problems required modern solutions. “Excuse me one moment,” he asked Childe as he slid the man’s drink to him, then opened his own phone to a new contact. “If you wouldn’t mind,” he continued, meeting Childe’s eyes as he showed him his phone, “You can add yourself as a contact, and I can help you get accustomed to Liyue. We can go out sometime— perhaps to the coffee shop I mentioned.”
Childe brightened at this. “Sure!” he chirped, inputting his information in with a speed Zhongli envied and handing the phone back, the contact name ajax!!!!! blinking up from the screen and confusing him. Childe rushed to explain. “Since we’re friends now, that’s my actual name. You can still call me Childe though, everyone does, so I don’t really care.”
Well. It seemed as though Zhongli had not been as clear in communication as he thought he had been. It occurred to him that perhaps this was Childe’s way of rejecting his advances politely, but then he remembered the admission of clear interest from earlier and realized that it was a simple lack of getting the message across. Opening his mouth to correct the assumption ( I meant as a date. Romantically.) , he was then interrupted by Childe, who gasped as though seeing the time. “Shit. I’ve gotta go; I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. I’m gonna miss my meeting— bye, Zhongli! See you!” And he was gone.
Hu Tao emerged from where she had secretly been watching the whole scene. “Wow,” she let out in between her wheezing, “That really sucks for you, huh? I mean how dense can a person even be?”
Zhongli hadn’t even noticed she was there, too caught up in talking to Childe. “Don’t you start,” he replied, too tired to hear it, then proceeded to ignore her for the rest of his shift.
Watching Venti cackle at him across their breakfast table when he told him of how the plan had gone, Zhongli was beginning to come to the conclusion that he had made mistakes in his choices of friends.
“Oh man,” Venti said, tears in his eyes, “Let me get this straight. So you like him, and he thinks you’re hot, but when you tried to ask him out, he just ignored it?”
“That is correct,” Zhongli replied, a bit put out from the day’s events. He had done his best.
“This is going to take more work than I thought. Never fear, Venti is here! We can fix this.”
If anything else, this was the least bored he had been in ages. It couldn’t hurt to hear Venti out. “Alright,” he agreed, still uncertain if he should really be taking his roommate’s advice, “What do you suggest?”