After Hours
Modern AU Zhongli fic for the follower celebration! Took me fucken long enough... Not edited (or at least not as much as I'd like).
CW: Implied drugging but not explicit, light yandere themes, heavily implied imprisonment, unhealthy relationship dynamics, boss/worker relationship. Overall this one's actually pretty tame, all things considered.
Word count: 3.4k
There’s something weird about the look in your boss’s eyes when you come in to deliver him his coffee.
It’s a little ritual you’d started, something you thought would be nice (and maybe you want to suck up to him, just a little bit), bringing coffee to your boss. You made sure to bring coffee to some of the coworkers you liked as well so they didn’t tease you for your harmless habit, and if you were in a really generous mood, you’d bring some to the coworkers you didn’t always get along that well with. It was nice seeing them smile at you for once, even if it came from coffee bribes.
It didn’t stop all the teasing, though. Appeasing your coworkers with coffee only goes so far. Still, they were careful to only tease you about your little crush whenever Zhongli wasn’t in the office, out on business trips or important meetings.
You stopped arguing with them. You were a terrible liar, anyway, and it’s not like you’re the only one in the office with a crush on him. He’s handsome. You’re sure even some of your married coworkers have a crush on him.
And bringing him coffee is harmless, anyway. His assistant used to do it every morning too, before he’d delegated her to something (assistant stuff, you don’t know what it is she does, exactly) that demanded her attention each morning and she no longer had the time.
But lately, your boss has been giving you odd looks whenever you step into his office, coffee in hand, setting it on his desk in front of him before wishing him a good morning and returning to your own duties.
You wonder if you did something wrong. Does he not actually like coffee? You assumed he did, asking his assistant for his coffee order so you could surprise him. He seemed pleased with it, at first. He always smiled and thanked you… What changed?
Maybe he was just humoring you before. Maybe you got his order wrong. Or you mixed up his drink with someone else’s… But nobody else complained about the coffee you’d bring them.
Today was another one of those days.
Zhongli’s already poring over the reports from yesterday when you come into his office, pen quietly scratching against the paper as he writes.
You set the coffee against his desk and he glances up from the papers to you, then to the warm cup.
“Oh, thank you.” His tone is polite, but there’s that look again. You wish you knew what it meant. It’s not… anger. Or annoyance. If it were either of those, at least you’d know. You’d quit while you’re ahead, and stop this silly routine.
But it’s not. And you don’t know what it is, so until he says something, you’ll pretend it isn’t there.
“You’re welcome, sir.” You’re careful to keep your voice pleasant, avoiding his eyes.
He doesn’t say anything else. He’s still staring at you.
“...Well. I should get to work.” It’s awkward, like the smile you force before you turn on your heel to leave his office.
Zhongli calls your name and you stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck.
“Before you leave for the day, would you mind stopping by my office to help me with some of these reports? I’d like to borrow your eyes, if you don’t mind.” Oh. That’s it? Your shoulders slump with relief, and you don’t know when you’d hitched them up. You’d briefly wondered if he’d fire you over coffee, as silly as the worry seemed.
“Sure thing, sir.”
You look over your shoulder to see a small smile on his handsome face, and you wonder if he knows this– knows how handsome he is, knows it’s part of the reason you’d started bringing him coffee every morning as an excuse to linger around his office longer than a simple “good morning” would permit.
“Thank you.” He looks like he’s about to say something more, hesitating on the word resting still on his tongue. Then, he blinks, looking back down at the papers on his desk, and it’s gone.
You turn and leave without another word.
The rest of the day drags on, dulled by the prospect of getting to spend time after work with your boss. Sure, it’s for work stuff, but still!
It drags on, but eventually 5:00 rolls around and you get up from your desk, not bothering to collect your stuff just yet before making your way to Zhongli’s office, knocking on the door.
“Come in,” His voice rumbles from behind the door, and you step inside quickly, shutting the door behind you as you do.
Zhongli’s sat at his desk like this morning, except now his coat is draped over the arm of his chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You try not to gawk at his arms, pointedly looking at everything but him until you stop in front of his desk.
He takes two stacks of papers, handing them to you. “I’ve already finished with these, I just want you to look over them and make sure I haven’t missed anything.”
You nod. “Sounds easy enough.”
He smiles, motioning toward the seat beside his desk, and you try not to linger on how close it seems to him, even if there’s a few feet between that chair and his own. You take a seat, thumbing through each stack of papers. It’s just reports. Nothing interesting.
Zhongli goes back to work, and so do you.
You fall into a routine with him. Every day, when you come into work, he asks you to stay late again and help double-check his work. It’s a little odd, you realize. Why you? Why not his assistant? Your job description doesn’t even cover this. You just work in IT.
Still, you don’t complain. You get the opportunity to spend time with your hot boss after work. You’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
It still unnerves you, the odd look on his face when you deliver his coffee. And sometimes you catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. But whenever you look over at him to catch him in the act, he’s poring over paperwork as usual.
You don’t mind the routine, but… It eats into your social life. You find yourself only having time to spend with your friends on your days off, and even then, not always that. Work starts calling you in on your days off. You have to cancel plans more and more often. Your friends begin to drift away.
It goes on like this for a month before you confront your boss about it, stepping into his office like any other morning, coffee in hand.
Your hand shakes when you set it down. He notices.
Zhongli sets down his pen, focusing his attention on you and frowning when you shrink anxiously away. You know you need to have this conversation. You need to set boundaries, let him know he can’t work you to death like this, but…
It still makes you nervous. You’re scared he’ll fire you if you put your foot down, and you really, really need this job. No other employer pays as much as he does, and with the cost of rent where you live now…
“What’s wrong?”
“I..” Your throat dries up, and you swallow. “I wanted to talk to you. About my hours.”
He raises a brow, motioning for you to continue.
“I don’t mind staying a little bit after to help you look over reports and all, but I need my days off. I can’t keep doing this without a break.”
Zhongli looks confused. “I wasn’t aware. I noticed you’ve been here on a few of your days off, but I didn’t realize it was becoming a frequent occurrence.”
You nod. “Well, it has.”
“Your department manager is the one who’s been calling you in, correct?” You nod again. “I’ll speak with him.”
Your shoulders slump in relief, thanking him as you slip quickly out of his office to let him go back to work. It’s a relief to know that he’s understanding, and a bigger one to know that he wasn’t aware you were so overworked. Even if he was the reason you were being called in (and not… whatever it was your manager was calling you in for. You’ll have to speak to him about it later), it probably wouldn’t have come from a place of malice. Everyone knows the boss is a workaholic. He probably doesn’t realize that not everyone practically lives in the office.
You get your days off that week, no calls from work.
The next week, as you’re doing your daily routine with Zhongli and poring over papers beside him (at some point the chair you’ve been using was moved next to his own so you could share the desk, not that you’re complaining), Zhongli abruptly looks up from his work, setting down his pen. You look up from your own stack of papers, curious.
“I’d like to take you to dinner.” What. You stare at him, dumbfounded, so he continues, “As thanks for your help these past few weeks.”
Ah. So not as a date. You try not to deflate. Still, it’s not like you’d want to pass this up. Free food is free food. And besides, it’s not a good idea to date your boss, no matter how handsome he is.
“Sure!”
It’s harmless. Just dinner with your boss, a small “thank you” for your hard work. You see nothing wrong with it. So when he makes a habit of inviting you to dinner, you don’t think anything of it.
You try, at least, not to drink any alcohol on these dinners, wanting to avoid making a fool of yourself in front of your boss. It’s not that you have a particularly low tolerance to it, you just… Never learned to take small sips, instead downing your drinks as quickly as possible. Besides, agreeing to these outings was questionable enough, you don’t want to get drunk around him too and end up doing something you regret.
But after a few weeks of this routine and a particularly stressful day of work, you give in and order some wine for the two of you.
“I didn’t know we shared the same taste in wine,” Zhongli remarks, examining the label after the waiter sets it down on the table and leaves. “This is my favorite kind.”
You try to look surprised, as though you totally didn’t interrogate his assistant earlier that day. “Oh, really?”
It’s not creepy. You only really chose his favorite wine so you’d feel less guilty for spending his money on it– even though he insisted on paying for these dinners. You were also curious to know what it tasted like, anyway, having never tried it yourself before.
There’s a knowing look in Zhongli’s eyes, and you feel an embarrassed blush creeping up. “...I just thought it sounded interesting, honestly.” A half-truth.
He pours you a glass and you drink it quicker than you probably should. Hey, at least then you can pretend the flush is just from the alcohol.
You’re three glasses in when you realize that you’re definitely drinking way too quickly. Zhongli’s hardly made a dent in his own drink, making you wonder if it’s a stronger wine than you first thought.
It was.
Those three glasses hit you hard, and even drunk, you still have the mind to feel ashamed. Ashamed isn’t the only thing you feel though, as Zhongli leads you back to his car and you take the opportunity to hold onto his bicep perhaps a little less innocently than you should.
He’s unusually silent, so you assume you’re being slick when you squeeze his arm a little, feeling the firm muscle through his dress shirt. You’re being helped into the passenger seat, a little reluctant to let go of his arm, but you forget your reluctance when he has to lean across you to buckle you in.
He smells like sandalwood, and… something else you’re too drunk to place right now. You’re not even sure if he actually smells like sandalwood, only placing the scent from candles you remember liking the smell of in bookshops.
The car rumbles to life. Zhongli must have gotten into the driver’s seat while you were busy trying to dredge through your memories of scented candles and soap shops and bookstores to place what his cologne smells like.
His car smells like him, you think absently. The radio plays at a quiet drone, too soft to really act as more than just background noise. Your eyes flutter shut.
You open them again when you feel something jostling you. Zhongli murmurs an apology to you as he lifts you out of the car into his arms. You can hear his heart beating steadily against one ear, and the warmth of his arms paired with the gentle thump of his heart lulls you back to sleep.
The next day, you wake up in a bed that’s not your own.
You panic, sitting up. A sharp pain throbs behind your eyes at the motion, making you wince, but you force yourself to stand and step out into the hall. The marble tile is fucking freezing against your feet, biting through your socks, and you wonder what happened to your shoes.
Hopefully, waking up alone means that nothing happened last night. That you just fell asleep drunk. That you didn’t fuck your boss, effectively throwing your career away in one fell swoop.
You find Zhongli in the kitchen (after a few minutes of wandering around the halls– his house is fucking huge), already nursing a cup of coffee. It’s bizarre seeing him in such a domestic setting, dress shirt swapped for a black turtleneck.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning,” You glance around. “Um… Where are my shoes?” Smooth. You should write a book. Social Etiquette for Dummies.
Zhongli, at least, doesn’t seem offended by your half-awake brusqueness. If anything, he looks understanding.
"In the foyer. I set them by the door." He pushes another mug your way, filled halfway with plain black coffee. “I’ll admit, I don’t know how you take it, so I figured it best to leave to you.”
Your hangover is both a blessing and a curse, distracting you from the awkwardness, but the throbbing of your head is killer. The light hurts your eyes, you feel nauseous… you regret waking up.
“...How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” You mumble, taking a sip of the black coffee he gave you, too hungover to care about the bitterness. At least it tastes like it’s quality coffee instead of whatever ungodly imitation of coffee seems to manifest in the breakroom at work. You’re convinced your coworkers just restock the breakroom with the worst “coffee” known to man as a prank.
Zhongli stands up, rummaging through some cabinets before you hear the rattle of a pill bottle. He comes back with two pills in hand, dropping them into your palm and returning to his seat. “Take the day off.”
“Sure.” Like hell you’ll look that gift horse in the mouth. You take the pills offered to you, downing the rest of your coffee with it and praying it kicks in soon so you stop feeling nausea swelling in your gut with every sudden movement.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence as he finishes his own coffee, and you feel the pain slowly ebbing. When he finishes his cup, he takes yours and sets both in the sink before turning to you.
“Do you remember when you first joined the company, what I’d said to you then?” He asks suddenly.
You try to blink the lingering tiredness from your expression. “Er… no?”
Zhongli’s gaze turns distant, tipping his head up to look at the ceiling as he recalls, “‘You are a cut above the rest.’ Even then, I’d known you would do well at the company. Your past spoke for itself, and you’ve more than proved yourself enough with your work ethic.”
Where is this coming from? Why is he talking about this now?
“I was a little disappointed when you turned down my offer of making you my assistant. I realize the job description is a little… lackluster, but it paid more than the position you applied for, and with your set of skills I thought you were perfect for the position.” Ah. You’d forgotten about that. He’d only offered once, but he looked understanding when you turned him down. You thought he’d forgotten too, honestly.
“I remember,” You start, unsure of where this conversation is headed, “I just didn’t want to change my mind at the last minute and end up with a job I’m not motivated to do… No offense. I just… I had my heart set on the position I applied for.”
“I see.” He looks like he’s weighing your words carefully as he chooses his next ones. “And is it what you wanted? Is it your dream job, as it were?”
You laugh. “Well. No, honestly.”
“Then, what is your dream job?” There’s a slight bit of dread beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. It’s like he’s fishing for something, trying to coax a certain response out of you, but you don’t know what or why he’s doing it.
“Well…” You humor him. You ignore the trepidation beginning to pluck at your nerves. He’s just asking simple questions, he’s not doing anything wrong… “To be honest, nothing. I’d rather spend my time traveling, seeing the world, learning new skills. I guess I could technically be a freelancer in that sense…?”
“And are you happy, working with the company?”
You should lie. You should lie and say yes, beyond the shadow of a doubt. What spills from your lips instead, is: “It has its ups and downs.”
Zhongli motions for you to continue.
“It…” You feel hot. “It’s… boring. But it pays well. And my coworkers are nice enough. Mostly.”
“Mm.” He taps his fingers against the countertop. “But are you happy?”
“I’m not unhappy. My job is fine.”
Zhongli stares at you. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. It’s sweltering in here suddenly, and his sudden strange line of questioning is not helping. His eyes hone in on the way you shift uncomfortably, tugging at your collar.
“Are you feeling alright? You look… unwell.” That look again. The one he’d give you when you bring him coffee in the mornings, but it’s gone again when you blink.
“I- I’m just a little warm, is all.” You excuse quickly, moving to stand. The room spins concerningly at the movement.
He’s at your side the second you sway unsteadily, taking ahold of your shoulders to steady you and placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “You’re running a fever.”
You interrupt him as he begins to guide you back to the room you woke up in by digging your heels against the tile (as ineffective as it is). “S-sir, I should really be heading home now.”
“... I’m afraid I’ve been pushing you too hard, lately. Please, just humor me and rest here a while until I can get you something to help you with that fever.” Zhongli’s stopped almost dragging you back now, but he gives an insistent squeeze to your shoulder.
It feels less and less like a request as his grip on you tightens with your silence.
You concede. “I suppose that’s alright…”
“Wonderful.” You’re practically swept back up into the bed once he guides you into the room, toeing the line between appropriate and… something else. Zhongli’s expression is neutral, unreadable, and he pulls away when you settle back against the sheets. “I’ll have to run to the store to pick up something to help with the fever, just rest here until then.”
You… feel like you’re sat in the mouth of a predator, its jaws slowly closing around you. You nod. The room spins with the motion.
Zhongli casts one last glance over his shoulder at you before shutting the door, and you belatedly realize what the look in his eyes was. Obsession.
The lock on the door clicks, the jaws snapping shut.
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The mysterious fisherman and the 11th Fatui Harbinger
(Role-swap or reverse role)
I'm still on Hiatus, the only reason I publish this cause this idea won't get out of my brain so here I am writing this, and no, you guys did not see me post this, it all in your head, was also inspired by the ask I send to @nicebonescomrade, but instead of Xiao and Zhongli role-swapping, Its Childe and Zhongli. Anyone can give me a code name for harbinger Zhongli? And no, I won't be picking his code name as Morax, that would be his dead name, like original childe, his dead name is Ajax.
Childe will be called Tartaglia, his (Vision)gnosis will be geo (cause he is the geo archon in this role swap.)
Zhongli will still be called Zhongli, his vision is Geo, and his delusion would be Hydro.
Work under the cut
In Liyue harbor there's been a gossip about a mysterious fisherman that's been walking around the harbor, the fisherman knows the nation like the back of his hand, he's a bit childish, likes to play with the children near the harbor, unintentionally swayed some ladies when chatting with them, he is great story teller too.
Tartaglia, that's what he call himself this days, not Ajax, and most definitely not Rex Lapis. He is now just a mortal man, who's job is to fish. He enjoy his time as a normal mortal man, peacefully living in the harbor. That was until he met Zhongli, the newest addition to the fatui harbingers.
Meeting the said Harbinger was an interesting moment for Tartaglia, mostly because Zhongli was actively trying to find him in the city, even though he wasn't there in the city, he was in Mingyun Village, collecting ores.
When he did met Zhongli, he was in Yanshang teahouse, enjoying his tea time, until the Harbinger came inside and walk towards his table.
"Mr. Tartaglia?" A deep voice startle the ex-archon looking behind to see Zhongli in all of his Fatui glory.
"Um, yes, That's me?" Tartaglia answered albeit awkwardly, the tall (intimidating man that he wouldn't admit to anyone) handsome man, who look relief at his answer. "I am Zhongli, a Snezhnayan diplomat, I would like to seek for your audience, if that doesn't bother you."
"No, no It doesn't!" Tartaglia quickly wave his hands off, genuinely isn't bother by the fact that the harbinger could possibly kidnapped him or kill him, (That is if he can kill a god) He stood up from his seat and paid the drink with his earned mora from fishing. Zhongli nodded at him and motion the fisherman to follow him, which he did.
Zhongli leaded him to the northland bank, Nadia seeing her Superior with a ginger haired male (what she think) friend, she respectfully greeted them. "Good to see you again, Master Zhongli and..."
"He is my honored guest for today, Mr. Tartaglia" Zhongli introduce the ex-archon who politely waved at her.
"Ah I see, Welcome to Northland Bank, Mr. Tartaglia." Nadia greeted as Tartaglia just greeted her back.
"Come inside, Mr. Tartaglia, we do not want to waste time, do we?" Zhongli ask the fisherman who shook his head and walk inside the bank.
The two can be seen sitting between the table, both are facing each other, the other one was busy drinking the tea.
"I would like to make a deal with you, Mr. Tartaglia." Zhongli statement came out bluntly for his liking he hope he didn't offend the fisherman a bit. " A deal with me? Why would a Snezhnayan diplomat would like to make a deal with me? And also wouldn't it be more easier if you made a contract with me?" Tartaglia ask the Harbinger amused, as he set his tea down the table looking at Zhongli's amber eyes.
Zhongli look a bit distraught, at his suggestion making him sigh, 'Foolish Harbinger' he thought as he cleared his throat to speak again.
"I mean, this is the land of contracts, Mr. Zhongli, if you want to have a deal with me, it would be more better if its a contract, because we, the people of Liyue, don't take lightly with our contracts." Tartaglia slightly chuckled, if you look closely his eyes glowed a bit gold, Zhongli hums as he contemplated at the ginger's suggestion. "And, as Rex Lapis once said, If someone break a contract they will suffer the wrath of the rock." Tartaglia smirked darkly, the light in his eyes are gone, He of all person knows this, cause he is the ex geo archon.
"So what do you say, Mr. Zhongli do we have a contract?"
After a long moment of silence, Zhongli look back at the fisherman who was holding a paper contract, and he look at the fisherman's other hand that was holding a pen offering it to him. He grabbed the pen and sign the contract with the ginger male. Tartaglia smiles at him and nodded.
"Well then, It's a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Zhongli."
"Likewise, Mr. Tartaglia."
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