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It took months for Childe to convince his parents to buy him this game. Everyone he knows has been playing it, and if Childe wants to be cool (which he does, desperately) he needs to play this game. And not just play it—he needs to destroy all of his friends. Which means he's going to be playing it a lot.

Childe's family isn't rich by any stretch of the imagination. He's the third child of seven, so he's used to wearing hand-me-down clothes and not having all the latest gadgets. He really doesn't mind. His parents work hard to give them everything they need, and he loves his family. (Mostly. The lack of personal space does get annoying sometimes.) The point is, when Childe asked for this game for his thirteenth birthday, he knew he was asking for a lot. But it's genuinely the only thing he wants, and he wants it with his entire soul.

So Childe gets exactly one present, and that's after his grandparents chipped it to buy it. His eyes bug out when he sees the zombies getting shot in the head on the glossy cover. "Thank you! I love you!" he screeches, quickly hugging both his parents before he makes a mad dash for their ancient PC and boots it up.

"I sure hope this game doesn't turn our child into a zombie," his mom says to his dad.

"Honestly, it might be easier to feed him," Childe's dad jokes. She wads up a sheet of discarded tissue paper and throws it at his head.

Once the game has been installed, his younger siblings all gather around the computer, pulling up mismatched chairs from all over the house to watch him play. "You can watch," he tells them, "but don't distract me. I have to focus."

They nod solemnly. Childe pulls his headphones on and locks in.

He's actually not too bad right off the bat. It takes him a little while to learn the mechanics, but Childe has been gaming all his life. His dad spent enough time kicking his ass when he was younger that Childe was forced to learn if he wanted to win, and Childe always wants to win. So it doesn't take him that long to get good at the game.

Childe plays every chance he gets. He finishes his homework lightning-fast and hops on every night, running through aiming practice before he queues up for his matches. He's a natural talent when it comes to clicking heads, but that's not good enough. He has to be the best.

It's not long before he unlocks competitive play. He doesn't ask his parents for permission to play this mode because they might say no. They can be a little… overprotective, and he knows there's an in-game voice chat feature. If they ask, he'll just say he's talking to his friends.

He joins his first ranked match, loading into the lobby. A couple of his teammates say hello. Then a slightly high-pitched voice that honestly could be a girl or a young boy says, "Alright, listen up, noobs. This is how it's gonna go: kill the creepers before red team gets them 'cause they're worth the most points. Stay in line of sight of the medic or you're dead. If any of you go off in a corner and get swarmed, it's your own fault. Mahamatra and PlantMom are grouped, and they spent all of last match spawn-camping me because I'm better than them, and they're mad about it. So I'm going to cover the spawn, and the rest of you do your jobs and kill shit, and this will be an easy win. Questions?"

"Um, yeah. Who let their twelve-year-old play on their account?" asks a female voice. The chat lights up with her screen name: HyperHeals.

"I'm thirteen," the voice replies, "and I'm higher elo than you. So that says more about you than it does about me."

"Hey, I'm thirteen, too," Childe pipes up.

HyperHeals sighs. She's playing the medic. "Oh, great. Both the DPS are kids. Bronze, here we come."

"I'm actually pretty good," Childe says. "I can beat all my friends."

"Fantastic," she says. "A thirteen-year-old who can trash other thirteen-year-olds. We're saved."

They load into the match with their characters. Childe is playing the assassin class. He looks over at the other kid, whose screen name is Balladeer. He's the sniper. His outfit is cool. Childe wanted that outfit, but you could only get it from the in-game shop.

Balladeer turns to him. Childe emotes. "What the hell are you wearing?" Balladeer asks over his mic.

"I don't know," says Childe, "I got it from an achievement. It's kind of cool, huh?"

"Bruh," says the guy named Bullseye, who's playing the tank with the minigun. "That's the outfit for getting fifty player kills in a single match."

"What the fuck? I mean, uh… frick?" says HyperHeals.

Bullseye snorts. "Nice save, Shinobu."

The whole team crowds around Childe to check out the outfit. "So, wait. Can this kid actually play?" HyperHeals asks.

"Okay, new plan," Balladeer replies. "Medic, pocket Tartaglia. I'm on creepers. Tank keeps up from getting swarmed. Tartaglia slaughters red team."

"I can do that!" Childe confirms.

"Hang on, have you even played comp?" the medic asks. "You're unranked."

Childe shakes his head. "Nope! This is my first match."

"This is going to go one of two ways, and I honestly can't tell which one," HyperHeals says with a sigh. "Itto, you're on your own."

"Hey, now," says Bullseye. "You're really going to just leave me to die to zombies after all we've been through? The disloyalty!"

"I'm putting all of my hopes and dreams on this thirteen-year-old child right now," says HyperHeals. "Don't let me down, tiny assassin."

"Don't worry. I got this," Childe assures her.

The match starts, and Childe does his thing. There are certain zombies that net more points than killing enemy players, but Childe's strategy is as follows: if red team is all dead, then they can't get any points. He lets his teammates kill the zombies, and he goes all in on slaughtering the enemy players.

"Dude, this kid is savage," says Bullseye as Childe gets a double-kill on Mahamatra and PlantMom.

"You said these guys spawn-camped you last game, right?" Childe asks Balladeer. "Want me to return the favor?"

"Honestly, we're going to win this game either way so… Yeah, delete those fuckers."

"You kiss your mom with that mouth, kid?" asks HyperHeals.

"Eat shit," Balladeer replies.

HyperHeals cackles over the mic. "Whatever you say, boss. Thanks for the cover. Usually snipers suck, but you're actually not bad."

"Tartaglia is carrying all of us right now," Balladeer points out. "How many kills is that?"

"I don't keep track," says Childe. "I just murder."

"Well, keep doing it. We're trashing these losers."

When the match ends, Childe unlocks another achievement. "Hey, I got a new emote!" he says to his teammates.

"I think we all did," says HyperHeals. "It's called 'No Mercy.' We beat them by over a thousand points. Ha! Good game, boys."

"Do you two want to group?" asks Balladeer. "You're surprisingly competent, and we'll get free wins with this lunatic on our team."

"I'm down," she says.

"Yeah, sign us up!" says Bullseye.

Childe grins wide and clicks to stay as a team. "Cool! I'm going to friend request you guys."

Balladeer sighs into his mic. "Fine. But don't DM me during the day. My mom will see."

"Aw, Balladeer getting in trouble with his mom," HyperHeals teases. "Itto, I feel like we should adopt these tiny, murderous children."

"Is… this you saying you want to have kids with me, Shinobu?"

HyperHeals sputters into the mic. "What? No! It was just a joke. Don't read into it."

"Oh. Yeah. Cool. That's fine, ha. I was… just joking, too. LOL."

"Did you just say LOL out loud?" Balladeer sighs. "God, adults are so cringe."

"Agree," says Childe. "Cringe AF, bro."

"Not you too," Balladeer groans.

Childe grins wide. "I'm the cringe-master. You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into."

"Just shut up and kill shit. I'm here to win, not make friends."

"You're going to be my best friend whether you like it or not," Childe declares. "This is not up for debate."

Balladeer scoffs. "I would never be friends with a loser like you."

"Why, 'cause I'm better at the game than you? Jealous, Balladeer?" Childe clicks his tongue. "Guess you'll just have to get good."

"You're not even ranked yet," Balladeer points out. Their next match loads. "Cut the chatter. It's game time. Focus."

"I can commit mass murder and trash talk you at the same time," says Childe, and he proceeds to do just that.

So that's how it starts. HyperHeals and Bullseye aren't on every night because they have boring adult responsibilities, so most of the time Childe just plays with Balladeer. It makes their queue times longer because they're both DPS, but given that they win almost every game they play together, it's worth the wait.

True to his word, Childe trash talks his new friend every match. Balladeer fires back with witty quips that make Childe cackle and continue to goad him. He's got a filthy mouth, and Childe would give it right back if he didn't have to watch out around his younger siblings. He dreams of when he grows up and has his own apartment and can really light Balladeer up with all the swears and insults he's learned from his friends.

Eventually they add each other on Discord, and they start talking all the time. It's mostly just about the game at first, but then they get to chatting about school and life, too. Even though Balladeer is kind of prickly, Childe meant it when he said he was going to make him his best friend. Most of his friends are kind of shit at this game, to be honest. It's good to play with someone on his level.

Despite how much shit Childe talks about him, Balladeer is actually pretty good. He gets up into the weirdest spaces, glitching the game sometimes just to set up the perfect sniper's nest. People in chat flame him for headshotting them across the map, but every time someone tries to go after him, Childe is right there backing him up. They synergize really well, and together, they're unstoppable. They climb up the ranks quickly.

It's nice to have such a good friend. Childe has a lot of friends, but he does have a habit of annoying people sometimes. He annoys Balladeer too, but the difference is, Childe is actively trying to piss him off. He's hilarious when he's mad.

It's not long before they're talking every day. Childe finally gets caught messaging him at school and gets his phone taken away. His parents give him a stern talking-to.

"Who were you texting?" his mom asks.

"My friend," Childe answers.

"Which friend?"

"Just a friend." Childe reaches for his phone, but his dad pulls it out of reach. "Come on, Dad."

"What's their name?" his dad asks.

"I don't know," Childe admits. "I… met him in the game."

An alarmed look crosses his mom's face. "You met someone online?" She and his father exchange looks. "You remember what Mom and Dad said about trusting people on the Internet?"

"Yes, yes, I remember. I'm not meeting up with him or anything. He lives in Inazuma. We just play the game together."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Has he asked for pictures of you?"

"Mom!" Childe squeals. "He's my age! He's not a predator."

"He could be an adult, Childe," his mom says warningly.

"He's not! You can tell from his voice!" Childe swipes for his phone again and manages to get his hands on it. "Ha! Look, you can read the chats. There's nothing fishy going on, I swear." He pulls up Discord on his phone and shows them. "See? We just talk about the game and school."

His parents go over the messages. "You said this kid is thirteen, too?" his dad asks, eyebrow raised. Childe nods. "He sure does swear a lot."

"That's just how he talks."

They continue to scroll through the messages for awhile. Childe bites his lip as he watches.

"Well?" he asks, unable to wait a second longer. "I can keep talking to him, right?"

His mom and dad have a silent conversation with their eyes. Eventually, his mom nods. She turns to him and says, "Alright. But not during school. You should be focused on your classes."

Childe takes his phone back and throws his arms around her. "Thank you!" he says.

She holds him tight. "Just be smart, okay? You know we're just trying to look out for you."

"I know, I know," he sighs. "I love you."

"Love you, too, sweetie."

Childe lets her go and hugs his dad too. "Love you, Dad. Can I go play now?"

"Clean your room first," says his mom.

"I cleaned it this morning before school."

"Then do your homework."

"I finished it in class."

His mom purses her lips. "Do you still have straight A's?"

"Of course, Mom."

His mom looks at his dad, who shrugs and says, "We've got a good kid. If all he wants to do is play his game, I say we let him. What will it hurt?"

"His attention span," his mom answers, rolling her eyes. But then she sighs and says, "Go on, then. But if you get caught with your phone at school again, you're grounded."

"You're the best!" Childe calls behind his shoulder as he runs over to the computer.

He launches Discord, and Balladeer is already online waiting for him.

"There you are," he says as soon as Childe starts the call. "What the hell happened to you today?"

"My phone got confiscated," Childe replies. "My parents found out about you, but they said we can keep talking."

"Oh." He goes quiet. "I think my mom knows I've been talking to someone, too."

"Dude, just tell her."

"No!" Balladeer protests. "She won't approve."

"Tell her I'm your best friend," says Childe. "She has to let you talk to your best friend."

Balladeer scoffs. "You're not my friend. You don't even know my name."

"Okay, then tell me your name." When he says nothing, Childe offers his first. "My name's Childe. Well, technically it's Ajax, but everyone calls me Childe."

"Childe? Like… child? Why would you call yourself a child?"

"It's not like child. It has an 'e' on the end. Like this." He types it in chat. "See? It's cool."

"It's so not cool."

"I bet it's cooler than your name!"

Balladeer sighs and says, "My name sucks."

"Why?" Childe asks. "What is it?"

"Scaramouche," he says quietly.

"Scaramouche?" Childe repeats. "Isn't that from a song?"

"Yes," says Scaramouche grumpily. "It's from Bohemian Rhapsody. My mom listened to Queen a lot when she was pregnant."

"That's kind of cool."

"You… think so? You're not going to make fun of it?"

Childe laughs. "Of course I'm going to make fun of it. Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?" he sings.

"Shut up," Scaramouche moans.

"I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me!" Childe continues to sing.

"I will block you right now!"

Childe cackles into the mic. "Okay, okay. You can make fun of my name too, if it makes you feel better."

"Well, your name is pretty braindead, so… yeah, it fits you," Scaramouche says. "How'd you even come up with it?"

"I found it in a book. It was about a boy who became a knight." Childe lights up as he remembers it. "I'm kind of like a knight, huh?"

"Your vocal range is closer to a damsel in distress, honestly."

Childe scoffs. "I'm not a damsel!" he protests. "You're the damsel, locked away in a tower guarded by a dragon, and I will rescue you!"

"Oh yeah? You going to kiss me when you do?"

Childe's heart thumps suddenly. "Yeah," he says, "I'll give you a big, wet one, and we'll ride off into the sunset on my noble steed and live happily ever after."

"Sounds more like a nightmare to me," says Scaramouche.

"Scaramouche, Scaramouche, let down your hair!" Childe calls out.

"What am I, fucking Rapunzel?" Scaramouche snorts. "Let's just play the game, idiot."

It might just be wishful thinking, but when Scaramouche says the word 'idiot,' what Childe hears is 'friend.'

***

They move on from the zombie game eventually. Over the years, Childe and Scaramouche play all kinds of games together. They share Steam libraries, and Scaramouche has hundreds of titles. Childe has learned that his mom makes up for her absence in his life by buying him pretty much whatever he wants. Part of Childe is jealous of all the stuff he has, but a bigger part of him thinks it just sounds sad and lonely. He kind of wants his family to adopt Scaramouche. He brings this up to his mom, who laughs.

"Oh, sweetie," she says, brushing back his ginger hair. She doesn't tuck him into bed—he's way too old for that!—but she does come in sometimes to chat before he goes to sleep. "I'm sure Scaramouche's mom loves him a lot."

"But she's never home," Childe points out. "I just think he would be happier here with us."

His mom sighs and places a hand over his chest. "I love this big heart of yours, Ajax. Trust me when I say the best thing you can do for Scaramouche is be his friend." She pulls her hand away, cocking her head slightly as she asks, "You are still friends with him, right?"

Childe frowns and says, "Of course. We'll always be friends."

"Okay," says his mom. "It's just… not the way you talk to your other friends. You were pretty mean to him the other night."

"That's our thing, Mom," he says. "You wouldn't get it."

She shrugs. "I'm just saying, if my best friend called me a 'thumb-sucking little piss baby with no balls cowering in the backline,' I would be very offended."

Childe flushes a deep red. "Mom," he chides.

"Those are your words, sweetie. If you're embarrassed by them, then maybe you shouldn't say them."

"He's way meaner to me," Childe points out. "He called me a retarded kamikaze."

"Childe, you know that word is not appropriate."

"He's the one that said it!"

"And you repeated it," his mom says sternly. "I don't ever want to hear you call someone that. Got it?"

Childe rolls his eyes. "I won't. I only talk that way with Scaramouche."

"Yes, I've noticed." A troubled look crosses her face. "It doesn't bother you when he says things like that?"

"No, it's funny. And he kind of had a point. I charged a destroyer unit with a pistol, and it shoved a missile right up my-" He cuts himself off just in time. "Um… armor?"

His mom sighs. "You're just like your father," she says in an exasperated tone. "I'm not going to pretend I understand teenage boys, but… you two seem to have a lot of fun together. As long as you don't talk that way about the important stuff."

"Important stuff? Like what?"

"Like…" She purses her lips slightly. "His relationship with his mom. Or his mental health. Or… who he has a crush on."

Childe snorts. "Scaramouche doesn't like anybody."

His mom gives him a sly look. "Kind of seems like he doesn't like you the most, though."

"What are you trying to say?"

She raises an eyebrow and says, "I've heard you calling him 'Princess' and talking about how you're always saving him from the bad guys. I'm just saying, if a man talked like that to me…" She tilts her head.

Childe sputters for a moment. "It's a joke!" he insists.

"Mhmm." She raises her hands. "It's none of my business what you like."

"It's not like that, Mom!"

"Okay. I'm just saying, sweetie. Your dad treats me like a princess, you know-"

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I got it." She's wearing a satisfied smile. "You know I love you no matter what, right?"

"I know," says Childe.

"And no matter who you love?"

"It's not like that-"

"Okay, but if it was-"

"I'm going to sleep now!" Childe yelps, covering himself with the blanket.

He hears his mom chuckle. She pats him on the head. "Love you. Good night." She gets up and turns out the light.

Childe lays there in bed in the dark wondering why his heart is beating so fast. Scaramouche is his best friend. He's not a princess, and Childe is not a knight rescuing him from a terrible beast.

But if he were… he'd kick that dragon's scaly little ass.

***

When they're sixteen, Scaramouche comes to visit him in Snezhnaya. Childe is bouncing off the walls with excitement for the entire week leading up to his arrival. It's summer break, and they've been gaming together basically all day every day (except for his mandated outdoor time, which he usually spends playing street hockey with the neighbor kids) but it'll be different to have him here. To meet him in person! Childe will finally get to see him and hug him- well, no, Scaramouche definitely won't let Childe hug him. He'd probably kick him in the balls if he tried.

Fuck it. He's hugging him anyway. His best friend deserves a hug!

They go to pick him up at the airport. He's flying unaccompanied, which Childe's parents would never ever let him do, and Childe's mom comes with him while his dad stays at home to watch the younger kids.

"You nervous?" she asks as they wait by the gate.

"Nervous?" Childe repeats. "No! I'm excited."

"Oh, I know you're excited. But… it's your very first meeting."

Childe turns to give her a flat look. "Don't say it in that tone of voice. I know what you're implying." His mom gives him a little smirk, and Childe rolls his eyes.

"Can I trust you both if I let him stay in your room?" she asks him.

"Mom!" he screeches, flushing a deep red. "Stop!"

"Ajax, as your mother, it's my responsibility to- Oh! Is that him?"

Childe's attention snaps to the gate. Scaramouche is looking around, dragging the handle of a sleek black carry-on. Childe leaps into the air and waves. "Scara!" he calls out.

Scaramouche turns to him, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. He makes his way over. The first thing he says is, "Stop freaking out. You're making a scene."

Childe ignores this, pulling him into a tight hug before he can defend himself. Scaramouche lets out a grunt of surprise and freezes for a minute before shoving him away.

"You're so cringe," he protests, attempting to straighten himself out. His pale cheeks are completely red now. "I regret this entire trip already."

"Aww, come on, buddy!" Childe slaps his arm. "I know you're happy to see me, too."

"I'm not your buddy, and I'm never happy," Scaramouche snaps. "Where's baggage claim in this rinky-dink little airport?"

"This way!" Childe declares, grabbing his hand to pull him there. Scaramouche swears and takes his hand back immediately. Childe just shoots him a grin and gestures him forward.

"I get it. I'm coming," Scaramouche huffs.

The three of them head through the airport, which is never very crowded. It's small, sure, but Childe's just glad it's only an hour away from Morepesok. Childe's mom smiles at them both before saying to Scaramouche, "We're so excited to have you, Scaramouche. We'll do our best to make you feel right at home."

Scaramouche ducks his head, looking embarrassed. "Thank you, ma'am," he says.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Childe immediately. "You'll be all nice and polite to my mom but not to me? I'm your best friend!"

"You're a pain in my ass," Scaramouche corrects.

"Okay, but still!"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

Once his things are all settled at the house Childe shows him around town—which, alright, isn't the most impressive, and Scaramouche insults absolutely everything, but Childe doesn't care. Nothing can sour his good mood. They get ice cream, and Childe takes him to the comic book shop, and they go down to the beach even though the water is freezing.

"Inazuma probably has much better weather, huh?" Childe remarks, looking up at the overcast sky. It's actually pretty nice out today for Morepesok, which says a lot.

"Definitely. But…" Scaramouche shrugs, leaning back in the sand. "It's kind of charming. And I mean that in the most insulting way possible."

"You don't have to clarify. I know you're trying to be a dick 100% of the time." Childe grins brightly.

Scaramouche gives him an annoyed look. "Stop being all happy and shit. You're going to give me hives."

"I can't help it!" he declares, laughing wildly. "I'm just so excited you're here!"

"Why?" Scaramouche asks him.

Childe shrugs and says, "I don't know, man. It's just good to see you."

After he says this, the weirdest thing happens: Scaramouche smiles. It's a really small smile, and maybe it's more in the eyes than the mouth. But at the same time a breeze ruffles his hair, pushing it into his face. Something about it makes Childe's breath catch in his throat. He reaches forward without thinking about it, brushing the hair away. Scaramouche's eyes widen. Childe immediately drops his hand, lurching back.

"I… sorry. Your hair, it was, like, in your-"

"It's fine," Scaramouche says quietly. "I don't mind if you- I mean- I should've hugged you back at the airport. It was just awkward."

Childe's heart beats quick in his chest. "You can hug me now," he says.

"No, it'd be weird," Scaramouche insists.

"It's not weird."

Scaramouche reaches up to tuck his hair behind his ear, giving Childe an uncertain look. Slowly, as if giving him time to change his mind, he leans forward and wraps his arms around Childe's shoulders. Childe's hands find his narrow waist and slip behind it, pulling Scaramouche's smaller body against his.

Childe kind of feels like he can't breathe for a second. It's just- Scara's so pretty. Childe didn't expect him to be this pretty! He's seen pictures, sure, and they've video called, but Scaramouche is always glaring. The second Childe saw that smile, he knew he was in trouble. He holds him for way, way longer than he should, but neither of them pull away. They just sit there, intertwined on the beach for several long seconds.

Finally, Scaramouche clears his throat and backs up. He refuses to meet Childe's eyes, but Childe can tell he's blushing. Are they thinking the same thing? Does he want to…? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His mom was so right. God, that's embarrassing. There's no way Childe is ever going to live this down.

***

Childe does his level best not to let on that he's into Scaramouche because hoo boy is he into Scaramouche. It's not like he didn't know that already—he kind of knew that a long time ago, to be honest—but it was so much easier to deny when he was a whole ocean away. Now that he's within hugging distance, it's practically impossible. But for the next week, Childe tries. He really, really tries.

"Dude, why are you letting these bugs fuck you in the ass?"

Childe just blinks stupidly. "Huh?"

Scaramouche looks up from his screen. "You keep dying to the bugs. Fuck's wrong with you?"

Blushing, Childe looks down at his console. "Uh… Yeah. Oops."

"Get your head in the game." Scaramouche frantically taps buttons trying to stay alive and resurrect Childe at the same time. He still manages to find a moment to glance back up quickly and say under his breath, "Stop staring at me."

"I'm not!" Childe says immediately. "I just… wasn't paying attention."

Scaramouche smirks. "Yeah, just like you don't pay attention every time I turn my webcam on?" Childe looks up at him, startled. Then Scaramouche shouts, "Come on, dumbass! I'm not going to keep rezzing you if you're just going to keep dying!"

"I don't stare at you," Childe insists. "I've literally never done that."

"Oh yeah?" Scaramouche says with a disbelieving chuckle. "Then how come you completely lose track of what's going on every time I'm on video?"

"I don't!"

"Yeah, you do."

"No, I don't!"

Scaramouche finally loses the fight against the bugs. He swears as he sets his console aside. He gives Childe an annoyed look and asks, "Childe, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I- I'm just playing the game-"

"Except you're not," Scaramouche points out.

Childe laughs nervously, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. We should, um- Let's play a different one?"

"It's almost midnight."

"Oh." Childe checks the digital clock at his bedside. "Yeah. I guess we should go to sleep."

Scaramouche brings a hand to his forehead and sighs deeply. "Childe, do not make me spell this out for you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Childe insists, even though maybe he kind of does. Maybe, maybe… His heart races with the possibilities.

"Fine," says Scaramouche, clearly annoyed. "Well, are you going to make me sleep on the floor again?"

"Um." Childe blinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "No. You should… sleep here? With me?" He says it like it's a question. Is he reading this correctly? Please, God, say he's reading this correctly.

Scaramouche gives him a little smile. "Okay," he says softly.

They both put their consoles away and climb into bed. Scaramouche is so close. Scaramouche is in his bed. Childe could just reach out and… Hesitantly, he extends his arm to brush the hair out of Scaramouche's face. His eyes are so pretty. Childe could get lost in them, and he wouldn't even stop and ask for directions. He'd just stay there, content to wander through those midnight blue depths for the rest of time.

Scaramouche shuffles closer, tucking his head into the crook of Childe's neck. Childe's arm winds around him and pulls their bodies together. His heart's going a mile a minute. He can feel Scaramouche's breath on his neck. Childe presses his lips together firmly, a sharp puff escaping from his nose. This means Scaramouche likes him too, right? That's what this means? He crawled into bed with him! They are literally in bed together! Surely…?

Scaramouche's lips press against the pale skin of Childe's neck. It's not really a kiss. Maybe it was accidental. That's all it is, right? Just a total coincidence. Except then he does it again, and soon, he's trailing kisses all over Childe's neck. Childe's pulse hammers away, his blood surging hotly. Okay, so he's doing it on purpose. That means… that means he wants Childe to kiss him, right? That's got to be it. Fuck. Even if it's not, Childe's about to do it anyway.

Scaramouche finally brings his lips level to Childe's. Childe stares into his eyes, entranced for a moment. Then he finally breaks, surging forward to capture Scaramouche's mouth with his own. Scaramouche lets out a muffled noise against him, fisting Childe's shirt as he presses back against him just as urgently.

Childe's never kissed a boy before. He's kissed girls, but he didn't really get what the big deal was. It was mostly just kind of wet. He gets it now, though. He definitely gets it. It feels like sparks are dancing over his lips and entering his bloodstream, thrumming throughout his entire body. He pulls Scaramouche closer, gasping as their hips slot together. It feels amazing.

Acting purely on instinct, not a single thought running through his brain, Childe levers himself on top of Scaramouche and kisses him deeply. He grinds his erection against Scaramouche's—because yes, that's definitely his hard dick in his pants, which means he's as turned on by this as Childe is—and Scaramouche lets out a whimper into his mouth. Childe does it again, and it's so nice that he does it again.

Scaramouche pushes back up into him, and the friction has Childe seeing stars. Before he knows it he feels himself tip over the edge, blowing his whole load into his pants. He moans against Scaramouche's lips and shudders, still humping him through the aftershocks.

As soon as he realizes what's happened, Childe's cheeks turn scarlet. He pulls away from the kiss, staring down at Scaramouche in horror. Scaramouche just smirks back. He grabs Childe's hand, licks it, and then shoves it down his sweatpants. Childe gets the message and starts to jerk him off while balancing over him.

He's captivated by the way Scaramouche writhes beneath him. He squeezes his eyes shut and arches his back, and Childe never wants to stop looking at him.

"Faster," Scaramouche breathes.

When Childe speeds up, Scaramouche starts to whimper softly. It's not long before he seizes up, and Childe feels him come all over his hand. He pulls it out and stares at it for a minute, completely befuddled, before his eyes flick back up to Scaramouche's.

Scaramouche's breaths slowly even out, and then he's quirking an eyebrow at Childe and asking, "You gonna clean that up?"

"Uh…" Childe springs into action, going for the tissues at his bedside. He hands some to Scaramouche and wipes himself down before discarding them all in the trash. When that's done, he flops back on his side in bed and just stares at Scaramouche.

"What?" Scaramouche asks him.

Childe blinks slowly. "What the hell just happened?" he asks.

Scaramouche rolls his eyes and says, "Something that should've happened a week ago—or at least it would have if you had any balls whatsoever."

Childe shakes his head in disbelief. "A week ago, you refused to let me hug you at the airport!"

"I let you hug me later," Scaramouche defends himself. "It was just… weird with your mom there."

"Okay, but how does that translate to…" He gestures between them and says, "This?"

"You are so fucking slow," Scaramouche complains, rolling his eyes. He flips over onto his other side. "Go to sleep, Childe."

Sputtering, Childe says, "Sleep? You expect me to sleep right now?" He grabs Scaramouche's shoulder, forcing him onto his back. "Have you been into me this whole time?"

"No," Scaramouche replies.

Childe's eyes narrow. "Are you lying?"

"No," he insists, trying to turn back over. Childe doesn't let him.

"Scara," he says desperately. "Scara, do you like me?"

"I hate you," says Scaramouche, staring up at the ceiling and refusing to meet his eyes.

Childe positions himself over Scaramouche's body again, forcing Scaramouche to look at him. He actually looks kind of… scared. Fuck. No, that won't do at all. Childe brings his hand to Scaramouche's cheek, rubbing his thumb over it gently. "I like you, too," he says quietly. "I mean… I've liked you for a long time."

Scaramouche purses his lips and says, "Gay."

"Yeah, I guess so," Childe admits. He cocks his head. "That actually makes a lot of things make sense, in hindsight."

"You're such an idiot," Scaramouche says with a huff.

Childe smiles at him softly. He leans down for another kiss. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?" he whispers.

"I… You…" Scaramouche's eyes search his. "We live in different countries, dumbass."

"So? I still want to date you."

"How, Childe?" he asks flatly. "Literally how?"

"I don't know," he admits. "We'll figure it out. Just say yes." Scaramouche tries to turn his face away, but Childe holds him still. "Say yes. I know you want to."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Scara," Childe whines. "Please?"

Scaramouche frowns up at him. His expression gradually softens the longer he looks into Childe's eyes until he's clearly trying to hold back a smile. "Okay," he says softly.

Childe grins. He leans down for another kiss, a longer one. He kisses Scaramouche until they're both breathless and Scaramouche finally shoves him off.

"Get off me and go to sleep," he says, but when Childe looks over, he's just quietly smiling. 

"You're really pretty," Childe tells him.

"Fuck off," Scaramouche replies. He turns over onto his side again, facing away from Childe.

Childe just snuggles up behind him, spooning him in his arms. Scaramouche grumbles a little bit before settling in. They both breathe easy, cuddled up with each other the whole night through.

***

When they drop Scaramouche off at the airport, Childe gets out of the car to grab his luggage from the trunk. He pulls out the handle and rolls the suitcase over. "Thanks," Scaramouche says quietly. He looks down at his shoes. "I'll, um. See you later, I guess."

Childe glances at the car, where his mom sits in the front seat. He knows Scaramouche doesn't want to make a scene, so Childe just smiles and waves goodbye. Scaramouche nods, setting off with his luggage. Childe watches him go, something aching fiercely in his chest.

Scaramouche only gets a few steps away before he's turning back to look at Childe. He stares for a moment before suddenly running back to the car, leaving his luggage on the sidewalk. He throws his arms around Childe and kisses him soundly. Childe lets out a surprised noise and kisses him back. A little bubble of joy bursts in his chest.

Scaramouche pulls away and says, breathless, "You'd better message me every day."

"I will. I promise."

He smiles. He glances awkwardly at the car for a moment, blushing before he hurries away with his luggage, not looking back again.

Childe climbs into the front seat. His mom says nothing as they pull away from the curb. It's completely silent in the car as they exit the airport. It's not until they're on the freeway that Childe finally says, "Go ahead. Say it."

"Called it!" his mom exclaims immediately. She reaches up to cover her mouth. "Sorry. It's just, I totally called that years ago, and I was right, and I told you so."

Childe rolls his eyes, but he can't help smiling. "You did."

"I really did." She sighs happily. She's quiet for a minute before she says quickly, "Next time he visits, he's sleeping in the living room."

"Mom!" Childe yells at her, his cheeks flushing red.

***

The next two years are hard in a lot of ways. Childe misses Scaramouche every single day. He comes to visit in the summer again (and Childe's parents do not leave them alone in his bedroom for even a minute unless the door is wide open) and it's great to see him. But it's only for a short time, and then he's leaving again.

They continue to game together, insulting each other and joking back and forth just like they always do, except now there's a lot of flirting, too. Looking back, though, there always was. Honestly, if Childe really thinks about it, he's kind of been flirting with Scaramouche since before he even knew what flirting was. Sure, it's usually mixed in with a bunch of dark humor and trash talking, but that's just their thing. Childe can't not talk shit to Scaramouche, not when he spends every second dishing it out.

It is a little… sexually frustrating, admittedly. There are more than a few Discord calls in the middle of the night when Childe is trying to be quiet. Sometimes they're innocent, and sometimes they're not. They both do what they can with what they have. Childe just likes hearing his voice, honestly. It'll be even better when he can actually touch him again.

They make plans for college. It's senior year, so there's a lot going on, but they both apply to the Akademiya in Sumeru. Childe hopes and prays that they make it in, and he's on edge for several months until they hear back. The second he gets the email from the admissions office, he calls Scaramouche from his room.

"Did you get yours?" Childe asks him, heart thumping in his chest.

"I haven't gotten anything yet," Scaramouche says.

"Oh. Well, that's not a rejection," Childe points out.

Scaramouche sighs. "I probably didn't get in."

"You'll get in!" Childe insists. "You have to get in."

An hour later, Scaramouche calls him back. "I got in!" he screams over the line.

Childe screams back. His heart is so full it could burst. They talk for hours making plans, long past the time Childe is supposed to be in bed. His dad comes in to tell him to get off the phone, and Childe finally hangs up.

"I'm happy for you, son," he says. "You deserve this. You've been working so hard."

"Thanks, Dad." He gets up to give him a big hug.

His dad laughs. When he pulls away, his eyes are filled with tears. "You really are all grown up now."

"Don't get mushy on me," says Childe, giving his dad a soft smile.

"No, never," he insists. He leans in to kiss the top of Childe's head. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Dad."

His dad gives him a watery smile. "Now go to sleep. You still have school tomorrow."

Childe sighs and says, "Fine."

He can't stop smiling, and he barely sleeps at all that night. They did it. They'll get to be together, finally. All Childe's friends said it was stupid that he had a boyfriend in Inazuma, and it's definitely been hard missing out on so many things. They've never been on a real date or even had sex (technically). But they'll get to now. They'll have all that and more.

Time passes by in a blur. Childe's parents are emotional about him moving so far away, and Childe knows he'll miss his family a lot, but he's really excited to set out on his own. Well, not totally on his own. He and Scaramouche signed up to be roommates.

He's actually pretty nervous. They messed around a little bit when Scaramouche visited the first time, but his parents watched them like hawks the second time, so they never got a chance to do anything more. It's just not the same over voice chat.

Childe gets to the dorm first and starts unpacking his stuff. It's a small space, and the beds aren't very big either. That's fine. They'll manage. This is their space. Him and Scaramouche, ready for all kinds of college adventures. Together.

When Scaramouche finally gets there, he's swearing up a storm outside the door. Childe's heart pounds as the lock clicks and the door swings open. Scaramouche's irritated look vanishes the instant he sees Childe. He dumps his luggage and throws himself into Childe's arms—quite literally. Childe yelps and catches him, shifting so he's holding him bridal style.

"You've been working out," Scaramouche says, trailing a hand over Childe's bicep.

"All for you, baby," says Childe, wasting no time in covering Scaramouche's mouth with his own.

Scaramouche moans into him, kissing him heatedly. When he pulls away he says, "Did you bring it?"

"What?" Childe asks him.

"The lube, dumbass," he says, pinching Childe's arm.

"Of course!" Childe replies.

"Well." Scaramouche wriggles out of his arms, and Childe lowers him to the floor. "Go get it."

"What, right now?"

"Yes, right now," Scaramouche replies, giving him a heated look. "I've been horny since I got on the plane."

Childe's eyebrows pull together. "Isn't it, like, a ten-hour flight?"

"Yes." Scaramouche heads back to the doorway, pulling his luggage inside before slamming the door shut and locking it. "I've been waiting for this for two years. I'm not waiting another minute."

Childe laughs in disbelief. "You don't want to settle in first? Or… say hello, maybe?"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. He slides back into Childe's arms and says, "Hello." He pecks him on the lips. "Fuck me."

And just like that, Childe is instantly turned on. "Okay," he says quickly, pulling away. "I, um- I think I put it in here?"

Scaramouche says nothing, silently stripping as he makes his way over to the bed Childe already claimed. Childe gets a bit distracted. He's never actually seen Scaramouche naked, and he stares with his mouth hanging open for several long seconds.

"Sometime today, genius," Scaramouche drawls while lounging nude on the bed. 

A sense of urgency grips Childe, and he searches frantically for the lube. He finally finds it, almost dropping the bottle in his haste to get to the bed.

"Watch it, butterfingers," Scaramouche gripes.

Childe narrows his eyes. "You think now's a good time to get sassy with me?" he asks, his arousal ramping up as he watches Scaramouche shiver in response. "Answer me."

A little smirk works its way onto Scaramouche's face. "What are you going to do about it?" he murmurs.

"Guess I'll have to find a way to shut you up," Childe replies, kneeling on the edge of the bed.

Scaramouche's eyes darken. They both stare at each other for a tense moment, breathing heavily. "Later," Scaramouche finally says, his voice hoarse. "Right now, I need you inside me."

"Fuck," Child hisses, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

They instantly fly back open, and his hands shake a little as he uncaps the lube and squeezes some onto his fingers. He positions himself over Scaramouche, reaching between his legs. Childe has done this to himself a couple of times, mostly while Scaramouche was panting in his ear over the phone. He didn't really like the feeling, but he knows Scaramouche does—a lot, if his moans are anything to go by.

It's lucky their preferences align so well, but then, they always kind of have. They really do complement each other in so many ways. If it wouldn't sound fucking stupid as hell, Childe might even say they were made for each other. That they were meant to find each other all those years ago and finally be together in the most intimate way you can be with another person. It occurs to Childe right then and there that he doesn't even want this with anyone else. Scaramouche is it for him.

"What are waiting for?" Scaramouche barks.

Childe snaps himself out of it. "I- I think I love you," he says suddenly. His heart pounds as he looks down at Scaramouche, who gives him a little smile.

"I love you, too," he says softly. "Now get on with it before I kick you in the balls so hard you'll be a pathetic little virgin forever."

Childe laughs wildly. He leans down for a sloppy kiss, elation coursing through him as their lips slot together. One of Scaramouche's hands slides into his hair as the other grabs Childe's hand, moving it into position. When his slick fingers ghost over Scaramouche's hole, Scaramouche lets out a gasp. Childe is still kissing him as his first digit slides inside, and there's a soft little whimper against his mouth.

Childe breaks from the kiss long enough to say lowly, "You realize everyone is going to know we're fucking in here, right? They're going to think I'm a fuckboy and you're a slut."

Scaramouche bites his lower lip. "I'm only a slut for you, baby."

A sharp inhale shoots through Childe's nose. Scaramouche is way too fucking hot. Childe has increased his stamina a lot since that first time, but damn, if he keeps talking like that this is going to be over before it ever gets started. Childe pushes deeper inside him, drinking in the small moan of pleasure it pulls from Scaramouche's lips.

"You know what? I want everyone to hear us," Childe murmurs. "I want them to know you're mine. I want them to know I'm the only one that gets to touch you like this."

"Yes," Scaramouche breathes. "I'm yours, Childe. Fuck me, please."

A dangerous smirk crosses Childe's face as he curls his finger. "Louder."

"Fuck, Childe!" Scaramouche wails. "Give me your cock!"

He huffs a little and forces another finger inside, and Scaramouche lets out a loud moan. "Whose slut are you?" he asks.

"Yours! I'm your slut, baby. Fuck me hard!"

"You've always had a filthy mouth," Childe purrs. "Look at how desperate you are."

"I need it," Scaramouche cries. "Please, Childe!"

"Fuck," Childe laughs. "I can't even decide whether I find this hilarious or sexy."

Scaramouche lets out a little giggle that completely knocks the breath out of Childe. "Bit of both?" he suggests.

"God, you're cute," Childe tells him, pressing a kiss to his knee. "I've never seen you this cute before."

"Shut up," Scaramouche returns, but he's smiling. "Go faster. Deeper! Make me beg for it."

"Yeah?" Childe speeds up the pace, stretching Scaramouche open on his fingers. Scaramouche lets out a string of noisy moans that Childe just drinks in. "You like that, baby?"

"God, it's so big! I love your monster cock!"

"I haven't even put it in yet," Childe says, still laughing.

Scaramouche gives him a devious smile. "Well, hurry up, then."

"It is kind of big, though," Childe points out. "I don't think you're ready."

"Give it to me, unh!"

Despite how fucking ridiculous this whole thing is, Childe is also weirdly turned on by it. Literally everyone in this building is going to hear them and think Childe has a massive cock. He's not totally opposed to that. Plus, even though Scaramouche doesn't really mean what he's saying right now, it's definitely inflating Childe's ego to dangerous proportions.

Childe pulls his fingers out. He quickly undresses and slicks up his hard cock. He squeezes the base firmly, reminding himself that he has to last this time. He can't let the whole dorm think he's the kind of guy that finishes early. He repositions on the narrow mattress, lining up his cock with Scaramouche's hole. He pauses for a moment, looking down at Scaramouche mischievously.

"You want it?" Childe teases him. Scaramouche nods slowly, looking at Childe with intense heat in his eyes. "How much?"

"Childe," he says warningly.

"Tell me how much you want it," Childe insists.

A strained look crosses Scaramouche's face. "More than anything," he whispers.

"Anything?"

"Yeah," he confirms. His lips turn down in a pout. "Please?"

Even though Childe is already very, very aroused, that quiet little 'please' takes him to the next level. He groans, and any sense of restraint he still has just snaps. He grabs Scaramouche's hip and guides his cock inside that tight little ass—you know, the one he's been dreaming about for years. Scaramouche is noisy again as Childe enters him, whimpering and clutching at the sheets as he's stretched by Childe's cock.

Childe still has to work Scaramouche open a little bit, giving a few slow, shallow thrusts to let Scaramouche accommodate his size. Childe may not have a monster cock, but it's not small, either. Scaramouche's vocal feedback urges him on, and the moment Childe bottoms out, he lets out a long shudder.

"Childe," Scaramouche pants. "Baby."

"Yeah?" Childe asks him.

Scaramouche whimpers. "Feels so good," he whines. His volume rachets up again. "God, you feel amazing!"

"You too, baby," Childe returns. "Now scream for me."

That's all the warning Childe gives him before before he starts to thrust. If he thought Scaramouche was loud before, it's nothing compared to how he sounds when he's actually getting fucked. It's honestly difficult for Childe to maintain control.

His ass feels so good, is the thing. This is nothing like their Discord calls or those times they messed around in Childe's bedroom. Childe has a very healthy sex drive for a teenage boy, and he's pictured this more than a few times. Not a single one of those fantasies even comes close to the sensation of Scaramouche's ass squeezing his cock as he moans like some cheap whore you'd find in a shitty love hotel off the highway. God, everyone is going to hear how well he's getting fucked right now. Childe gets the feeling he should be embarrassed by that, but he really isn't.

"Scara," he breathes out. "Scara, fuck-"

"It's too big!" Scaramouche cries out. "Fuck, it hurts!"

Childe is way too far gone to laugh at his antics anymore. Everything Scaramouche says just turns him on even more. He goes faster, pounding in and out of Scaramouche's ass in a choppy rhythm.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Scaramouche chants. "Fuck, baby, I love your cock!"

"I love you, baby," Childe grunts out, thrusting even deeper.

Scaramouche whimpers. "I love you," he says at a normal volume. And then, loudly again, "It feels so good! You fuck me so well, Childe. You're the best I ever had!"

"I'm the only one who's ever going to have this ass," Childe says, his voice low and deep. "You got that? You're mine. Nobody else is going to touch you."

Scaramouche gasps in reply. His pretty blue eyes look up at Childe as he takes desperate breaths.

"Say it," Childe demands.

"Nobody but you," Scaramouche replies. "I'm yours."

"Yeah? You're my little slut, huh?"

Scaramouche nods. "Yeah. Whatever you want, baby. Anytime, anyplace. Just- fuck, Childe! I can't-"

"Can't what? Can't take any more? Well, that's too bad, 'cause I'm not done with you yet."

He slams into Scaramouche's ass over and over, and Scaramouche just wails beneath him. Childe isn't even sure how much of it is just putting on a show at this point, and he doesn't care. Scaramouche is so hot. Childe never wants this to end, but at the same time, he knows he can't last much longer. It feels too good.

"I- I want you to come first," Childe grunts out.

Scaramouche whimpers in response and reaches down to fist his cock. Childe feels some animalistic part of his brain flare to life, and he growls. Scaramouche getting himself off while Childe's cock is buried in his ass is just- too much. He didn't even think he could go any harder, and he didn't think Scaramouche could get any louder, but then both of those things happen at once.

"Fuck, Childe-" Scaramouche gasps. "Fuck, so good, so good-"

"Come, Scara," Childe orders him.

"I- I'm almost-" Scaramouche whimpers, screwing his eyes shut.

Childe tracks the moment his orgasm hits him. He would've felt it just in the way Scaramouche's ass clenches around his cock, but seeing it like this- The way his back arches off the bed, the way his whole body writhes in pleasure, it's- Fuck, it's too much-

He tips over the edge immediately after Scaramouche does, spilling so much come into his ass that it comes gushing out. It's like nothing he's ever experienced, a beautiful tension that he can feel in every limb, in all his fingers and toes and the intense head rush that knocks all the sense out of him. Childe's used to having to be quiet, but he really can't hold this in. He grunts and sighs and keeps pumping Scaramouche's ass until he doesn't have anything left in him. He hovers there for a moment, palms planted flat on either side of Scaramouche's waist as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

"Childe," Scaramouche pants beneath him, sweat sliding down his forehead. "Baby."

"What?" Childe asks him between gasps.

Scaramouche whines and reaches out for him. Childe manages to slide himself out, and together they squeeze onto the mattress. It's not wide enough for them to lay side-by-side, so Scaramouche just drapes himself over Childe's chest and holds on tight.

They're both quiet for some time. Scaramouche shivers occasionally, soft noises coming from his throat. Childe drags his hand through that midnight blue hair, damp with sweat. They're both way too hot to cuddle, but neither of them pull away.

Eventually, Scaramouche looks up at him and says softly, "Childe?"

Childe can feel the stupid grin snap to his lips instantly. "Yeah?" he asks.

"Do you really love me?" He looks unsure, maybe a little afraid. Just like he was the first time.

Childe's smile softens. "More than anything," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Scaramouche's smile lights up his whole face. It's easily the happiest Childe has ever seen him, and it makes him grin even wider. He even laughs a little. Scaramouche crawls up for a better angle and kisses him, not with hunger but instead a cautious kind of affection. It's so sweet Childe never wants to stop.

They do have to stop eventually. They get dressed and both shuffle off to the shower, attracting several pairs of eyes in the hall on the way there. Scaramouche blushes, but Childe just grins unapologetically at every single one of them. He's very proud of this, and he wants all of them to know it.

"Everyone's going to talk about us now," Scaramouche mumbles once they get into the bathroom.

Childe turns around with a smirk. "I love it when people talk about me."

Scaramouche huffs and rolls his eyes. "You're such an idiot."

"Oh-ho no," says Childe. "Don't you stand there and try to act like all that was my idea. You were the one begging for it."

He flushes even darker and says, "Shut up."

Childe gives him a lazy smile. "You're a freak. And a slut."

Scaramouche reaches out and slaps him on the arm. Childe hits him back. They end up chasing each other around the bathroom trying to be the last one to get a hit in until they're both out of breath for the second time today.

"Okay, truce," Scaramouche says finally, holding up his hands. "I really need to shower."

"Yeah, you do," Childe agrees. He stops trying to hit Scaramouche, gesturing him into the nearest cubicle. "Your bathing chamber awaits, Princess."

Scaramouche rolls his eyes and takes his stuff into the shower. Right before he closes the curtain, Childe reaches out and smacks him on the ass. Scaramouche looks back with a glare, and then his lips pull up into a dangerous smirk. "I'll get you for that," he promises.

Childe winks and says, "Can't wait."

***

The next day at orientation, Childe and Scaramouche get assigned to the same tour group as the two guys they share a wall with. One of them refuses to make eye contact, and the other puts his hands on his hips and says, "Nice to finally put a name to your voices. Seeing as we're going to be living in close proximity until next May, I just have to ask: are you always that shameless and inconsiderate?"

Scaramouche jerks a thumb towards Childe and says, "He is, definitely."

"Oh, really?" says their neighbor. He's some kind of fox hybrid, and his tail twitches behind him irritably. "Because I can tell just by looking at you two that you were the one taking it. I remember hearing quite a bit about a… monster cock, if I recall correctly?"

"Tighnari," says his roommate, grabbing his shoulder. "Can we not start a fight on the first day, please?"

"Oh, I didn't start this," Tighnari insists. "They started it."

"He's the one that started it," Childe said, elbowing Scaramouche.

"Fuck you!" Scaramouche exclaims, turning to him with a look of betrayal. "You'd just sell me out like that?"

"Yep."

Scaramouche scoffs. "Okay, see if you ever have this ass again, you piece of shit."

"We live in the same room now," Childe reminds him. "You literally can't get away from me."

"I can room transfer," says Scaramouche.

"Please do!" Tighnari pipes up, holding up his pointer finger.

The tour guide finishes explaining the history of the fountain and starts to lead them across the quad. The four of them follow at the back of the group.

"I'm Cyno," the other guy introduces himself in an obvious attempt to stop the brewing argument. "This is Tighnari. We grew up together not far from here. Where are you guys from?"

"Snezhnaya."

"Inazuma."

"Oh, nice. Those are both pretty far from here. How're you handling the heat so far?"

Tighnari still seems pretty annoyed with them, but Cyno moves the conversation along. Eventually they get to talking about gaming, and Cyno mentions a new MMO they've both been playing. Childe's eyes light up.

"I bought it, but I haven't installed it yet," he says. "The wi-fi at home kinda sucks, so I was waiting until I got here. But me and Scara were going to start playing soon."

"Oh yeah?" says Cyno, a smile lifting his lips. "Do you know what classes you want to play yet?"

"Mage," says Scaramouche instantly.

"You do give off glass cannon energy," Tighnari interjects.

"Fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"I play guardian, and Nari plays bard," Cyno says quickly. He lifts his chin towards Childe. "You DPS too?"

Childe nods and says, "Probably rogue or monk."

"Monk is a lot of fun," Cyno offers. "Lots of button-mashing, though. Gotta keep an eye on your procs." Childe decided he kind of likes this guy. He's all business. "If we all play together, we can make a full party."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Tighnari, waving his hands. "Let's not get all buddy-buddy with these guys until we know they can actually play."

Scaramouche's nostrils flare out. "You want to 1v1 me, asshole? I'll trash you."

"Not on mage, you won't," Tighnari says confidently.

"Bet," says Scaramouche, ignoring the way Cyno tries to butt in. "Just don't go crying to your mommy after I kick your ass."

"Ooh, is your boyfriend okay with you touching my ass?" Tighnari coos.

"Bitch, I will fuck you up-"

Cyno bodily steps between them and says, "Alright, that's enough. We're all going to be living next to each other for nine months, and we can't be at each other's throats the whole time. So you will get along, and you will be civil."

"No thanks," Scaramouche spits.

Cyno's voice hardens. "I'm not asking you, chief. I'm telling you. Be. Civil."

"Or what?"

Childe steps in, taking Scaramouche's shoulder. "Come on, Scara. We can do a little friendly rivalry, huh? You can kill him in the game as many times as you want."

Scaramouche shrugs him off. "Fine," he grunts. He lifts his chin at Tighnari and says, "I'll see you in the ring, motherfucker."

"Looking forward to it, ginger-fucker," Tighnari returns.

"Great," says Cyno before they can start going at it again. "Let me know once you have the game installed, Childe."

"Will do!" Childe says with a salute.

After he finally gets the game onto his laptop and has it running, Childe pops next door and knocks. "It's open!" Cyno calls.

Both Cyno and Tighnari are sitting at their tiny little dorm desks on their laptops. Cyno looks over at him and says, "You good to go?"

"Yep!" Childe confirms. "Scara's still getting his books, and he was waiting for me to start playing so we could level together. But we can all add each other on Discord so we can call."

"Cool," says Cyno. "I'm Mahamatra. He's PlantMom."

Something about those names rings a bell, but Childe can't figure out where he's heard them before. He just nods and says, "I'll send you both requests!"

He goes back into his room and adds them both. They accept, and Tighnari immediately starts a call. Childe slips his headphones on and accepts.

"Hey!" he says.

"How long have you had that username?" Tighnari demands without so much as a hello.

"Uh… Like, forever," Child replies. "Why?"

"Did you ever play Dead Inside?"

"Oh, yeah! That was how me and Scara met. We were thirteen, and-"

"You fucking piece of shit, motherfucker, wrinkly old asshole of a cock-sucking rhinocerous-"

"Whoa!" Childe exclaims, taken aback. "That's kind of uncalled for, man."

"I dropped to gold because of you and your shitty, aim-botting sniper friend," he says acidly. "Cyno, these guys are that cheating, scumbag duo that single-handedly ruined my childhood!"

It clicks suddenly. Mahamatra and PlantMom. Oh, Childe and Scaramouche bullied those two a lot in that game. PlantMom kept reporting Scaramouche for cheating, so they had to take their revenge. There were a couple matches where Childe didn't even kill any of the other players, he just put on stealth and camped PlantMom just to be a dick. Shit. Okay, yeah, Childe did kind of make his life miserable. But that was five years ago! He was thirteen, for fuck's sake.

Childe hears Cyno reply through Tighnari's mic from a few feet away. "Okay, you're being a little dramatic, Nari."

"No, I'm not," Tighnari says heatedly. To Childe, he says, "I'm going to kill you slowly and painfully as you watch everything you love crumble to dust before your eyes-"

"Okay, okay, hang on!" Childe interrupts him. "Are you seriously threatening my life over a game we played when we were thirteen?"

"Yes," Tighnari grits out.

"Can you please calm down, babe?" says Cyno.

Tighnari makes a surprised noise over the mic. "Cyno," he hisses. "You're not supposed to call me that."

"Oh, come on. These guys fucked loud enough for the entire floor to hear them on move-in day. They're not homophobic."

Childe blinks. "Oh. Are you two, like… a thing?"

"No, we're not together," Tighnari snaps.

"We've been dating since the seventh grade," Cyno replies.

"Cyno, shut up!" There are a few muffled noises, and then Tighnari huffs into the microphone.

"It's okay, babe," says Cyno, sounding much closer now. "You think anyone's going to give us shit when we live next to those two degenerates?"

"That's not the point," Tighnari whines.

Things are quiet for a moment before Cyno says softly, "I love you."

"Cyno-"

"Come on," Cyno coos. "Say it back."

Tighnari sighs. "Love you," he grumbles.

Childe maintains his awkward silence for a moment before saying, "Well, that's kind of fucking gay."

"You shut the fuck up," Tighnari snaps. "I will never forgive you for the pain and suffering you put me through."

"Well, if I fuck up the boss mechanics, you can leave me on the floor and rant about how shit I am instead of rezzing my dumb ass. How about that?"

Tighnari huffs and eventually says, "Fine. But I still hate your guts."

"You and everyone else I've ever met," Childe says with a grin. He hears the door of their room open and looks over. "Hey, Scara! You want to know something wild?"

When Childe tells him, Scaramouche cackles for several minutes straight as Tighnari screams expletives that Childe can hear both through his headphones and through the wall. Scaramouche and Tighnari have their 1v1, which Scaramouche wins. Tighnari insists on the best two out of three, then wins the next one, only to lose the third match.

"Best four out of five!" Tighnari demands.

"Just admit I'm better than you," Scaramouche goads him.

Childe sighs. "Okay, does anybody else want to actually play this game sometime tonight?"

"Me," says Cyno.

"I can totally beat this clown," Tighnari insists.

"You can do it later, babe," says Cyno. "Let's just help them level so we can start doing dungeons. You guys know anybody else that plays? All we need is another healer and two DPS, and we've got a full raid team."

"Uh… I can check my friends list," Childe offers. "I have a lot of people added, but I don't know who plays."

"Okay, check and we'll see. They just released a new tier, and Nari got us kicked out of our last static."

"That wasn't my fault!" Tighnari says immediately.

"Our gunner quit because you didn't heal him," says Cyno, "and then we replaced him with the rogue, and then the rogue quit because you wouldn't heal her."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but if they're standing directly in front of a half-room cleave that they know afflicts a fifteen-second bleed, that's not my fault, and I'm not going to stop and waste all my cooldowns on some fucking dumbass that doesn't know how to fucking play. Okay? They deserved to die. If they don't die, they don't learn anything. So when you think about it, I was doing them a favor."

"Yeah, so you can see why they kicked us," Cyno finishes dryly.

"Shut up."

"You're kind of toxic," says Scaramouche.

Childe snorts. "Oh, the irony."

They eventually find enough people for a raid group after Childe reaches out to a couple of familiar faces—HyperHeals and Bullseye. Turns out they got hitched a few years ago and are already popping out kids. Bullseye agrees to let Cyno tank and picks gunner instead, and their other fill is one of Scaramouche's old schoolmates from Inazuma. He mostly just roleplays, but he's actually pretty good. His screen name is LostInTheWind. It's kind of weird how he's always in character, but given how insane the rest of them are, he serves as something of a grounding presence.

"Just so you know, if any of you get cleaved, I'm leaving you to die," Tighnari informs them as they load into the raid for the first time.

HyperHeals sighs into her mic. "Okay, well I guess that falls to me, then. You're that kind of healer, huh?"

"You mean the kind that doesn't let people get away with braindead positioning? Yes. Absolutely."

"Okay, so this will be fun," HyperHeals replies. "Akira, stop grabbing the dog's tail! Itto, control your child."

"Uh, he's also your child?" Bullseye replies.

"He takes after you."

"He's two. He still looks and acts like a potato."

"Stop calling our toddler a potato! You're going to give him self-esteem issues!"

"My mom used to call me a demon from hell," says Scaramouche, "and I don't have self-esteem issues."

"Because you actually are demonic," Childe replies.

Scaramouche turns to Childe and says, "Only for you, baby," blowing him a kiss across the room. Childe grins and catches it.

"Okay, everybody," says Cyno in a businesslike voice. "Remember, the sword is a donut, and the axe is a point-blank. Sword, in. Axe, out. Do not stand in front of the boss. And if you do get hit by the cleave make sure you're in range of HyperHeals, because my boyfriend can and will let you bleed out on the floor."

"Pardon me," says LostInTheWind in his smooth, calm voice, "but as his lover, are you not in a position to convince him against this illogical line of thinking?"

"Oh, I've tried," says Cyno. "There's no point. He's literally a gremlin."

"Sounds like somebody wants to sleep alone tonight," says Tighnari.

"Oh, yeah? Where are you going to sleep, then? You want to go crawl in Balladeer's bed?"

Childe pipes up with a quick, "Oh, he doesn't sleep in his bed. He sleeps on top of me. And he drools."

"Hmph," Scaramouche huffs. "Sounds like you and Mahamatra are both sleeping alone."

"I love you, baby."

"Stop being a faggot."

"I'll never stop loving you," Childe coos.

"Get a room," HyperHeals jeers.

"Oh, we have one," says Childe.

"Yeah, and the walls are thin," Tighnari butts in. "Shall we get this party started, gentlemen? And lady."

"Never call me a lady again," says HyperHeals.

"Okay, female," Tighnari chirps.

"No."

"Mommy?"

"I will reach through this screen and slap you."

"And I'll cut your balls off with a pair of dull scissors if you disrespect my wife," Bullseye adds.

"That is not appropriate language to use in front of impressionable young minds," HyperHeals says, annoyed.

"Aw, come on, Shinobu. You worry too much! The gang will be just fine."

"Can you please stop referring to our children as the Arataki Gang? Everyone thinks it's weird."

"I think it's kind of cool," Childe supplies.

Tighnari responds with a lilted, "Listen, Tartaglia, I'm going to do you a favor and tell you something your parents should've told you years ago, except they were too nice: literally no one on this planet has ever or will ever care what you think. I'm starting the ready check."

After everyone confirms they're ready Cyno sets the countdown, and they start the raid. They don't manage to get through it that night. In fact, it takes them three weeks to finally clear it, and they only manage it by the skin of their teeth.

"Aw, fuck!" Tighnari yells, a desk slam coming through his mic. "I had, like, two more seconds on my cooldown."

"I'll pick you up," says HyperHeals.

"No, grab one of the DPS," says Cyno. "He's at 3%. We're almost there!"

"Rez Childe," Scaramouche says urgently.

"Who?"

"Tartaglia! He can burst him down."

HyperHeals hums, and Childe gets the res notification. "You better be right about your boyfriend, Balladeer. We're so fucking close! Sorry, ah, I mean frick-"

"Wow, Shinobu, that's super inappropriate."

"Not helpful, Itto!"

As soon as Childe's back up, he runs his buff macro and gets into position. It's down to him, Cyno, and HyperHeals. He laser-focuses on his rotation while dodging the boss' attacks.

"Two percent!" Cyno calls out. "Line attack next."

"No, it's the cleave!" Childe corrects him, but it's too late. HyperHeals already positioned for the line attack. The cleave one-shots her, and she screams over the mic.

"Fuck, sorry," Cyno swears. "One percent, one fucking- Ack, goddammit!"

Without any healing, the boss' damage is too much for Cyno to take. He goes down. The boss then turns to Childe, who's the only one left. "Shit," Childe mutters. He backflips and starts kiting the boss around the arena, throwing daggers at it.

"Come on, come on!"

"Get his ass!"

"Stop distracting him!"

"This is really stressful!"

"You got this!"

"OH MY GOD, KILL HIM-"

"It's the donut, use your chain!"

Scaramouche's voice cuts through the rest. Childe throws out his chain move, which propels him within melee range so he can dodge the donut attack. Of course, that means the boss is close enough to hit him now. So Childe has about two seconds to kill this guy before he gets nuked by the auto attack.

He's been frantically watching the bar fill up on his signature move this whole time. Just as the boss turns to him, it lights up. Childe jams his hotkey frantically. He gets locked into the signature move animation, disappearing in a puff of smoke before he reappears behind the boss and stabs him in the back. It's just barely enough to finish him off. Childe screams and then immediately dies to one of the boss' delayed attacks.

"Shit!" Tighnari screeches.

"No, he got him!" says Cyno. "Look!"

The gleaming treasure chest appears on the end of the platform. They all get a rez prompt so they can collect their loot. As soon as it pops up, everyone is screaming into their headsets. Childe feels like he's on top of the world, grinning from ear to ear as he clicks to resurrect his character. And then suddenly his chair is spun around, and he has a lap full of Scaramouche.

"That was so fucking hot," Scaramouche moans before pressing his lips heatedly to Childe's.

Childe lets out a surprised noise against his lips and kisses him back. Scaramouche drags his tongue filthily over Childe's mouth as he grinds down with his hips, and Childe can't help the little grunt that escapes him.

"Oh, my God," Tighnari sighs through the mic. "Collect your loot before the timer runs out, you nasty little horn dogs."

He does make a good point. Childe breaks from Scaramouche to say, "Go rez and get your loot."

Scaramouche huffs. "Fine. But then you better bend me over and pound me."

"Please do not involve the rest of us in your voyeurism kink," says HyperHeals.

"I, for one, do not find it bothersome in the slightest," says LostInTheWind.

Childe quickly tabs to Discord to end the call. Once the loot has been collected, they leave their characters in the raid instance and tumble into bed. Childe fucks him hard and fast while Scaramouche whimpers and eggs him on. There are thumps and complaints from the other side of the wall, but Childe and Scaramouche pay them no mind.

When they're finished they lie in their usual position: Childe flat on his back with Scaramouche sprawled on top of him. It might not be the most comfortable arrangement, but Childe just likes having him close. Scaramouche rises and falls with his breath, and Childe smiles contentedly as his hand runs through that pretty, soft hair.

"I love you," he whispers.

Scaramouche glances up at him with a soft look. "I love you," he replies. "Idiot."

Child grins. "I like the way you say 'idiot.'"

"What?" Scaramouche asks with a bewildered look.

"I don't know," says Childe. "It sounds kind of… affectionate."

"Affectionate?" Scaramouche repeats. He snorts in disbelief, shaking his head lightly. "Whatever."

"No, really, it does," Childe insists. "When you call other people idiots, it's because you think they're stupid. When you call me an idiot, it's 'cause you think I'm cute."

Scaramouche's eyes narrow. "I don't think you're cute."

"Really? 'Cause I think you're cute."

"Okay, well, we've already established you're an idiot."

Childe smirks in reply. The corner of Scaramouche's mouth lifts into a smile, too, even though he tries to hide it. "I love your smile," says Childe.

"Shut up."

"Will you smile for me, Scara?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Fuck off."

Childe takes Scaramouche's face in his hands. "Come on, baby," he says softly.

Scaramouche sighs and looks away. Childe's hands fall. He waits for Scaramouche to look back. It takes several seconds, but eventually, his eyes meet Childe's again. He smiles somewhat cautiously. Childe immediately breaks out into a grin, which makes Scaramouche let out a few light huffs of laughter.

"I think I'm gonna love you forever," says Childe. "Is that okay?"

Scaramouche blinks. His smile widens, showing his teeth and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Childe bites his lower lip.

"Okay," Scaramouche says softly.

Childe wraps his arms around his boyfriend and cradles him to his chest. They breathe in sync as Childe strokes his hair, and eventually they fall asleep like that, with the lights still on and the game still running. As his eyes flutter closed Childe smiles in contentment, knowing he wouldn't have it any other way.