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Don't Switch My Drink

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It’s not that he’s angry… actually, it did irritate him a bit.

Diluc’s alcohol tolerance is questionable, a man of his stature and build fails to metabolise large amounts of liquor – surprising since the Bard could actually down how many bottles of dandelion wine? Anyways, a fraction of what Venti could consume until he feels the slightest tinge of tipsiness is a recipe for Diluc’s alcohol poisoning. Ironic since a bartender, frontline in serving alcohol to those who visit his bar cannot hold down his drink very well.

His hangover is among the worst. To him, the whole world spins too fast for his liking and his stomach just rejects nearly anything he eats. Venti does try to help him recover from the nausea, but the only way to relieve a hangover is time, with the addition of a proper meal that is not too heavy and water.

Maybe getting Diluc to drink with him that one time was not a good idea.

Last night after the bar closed, Venti decided to drink his fair share of wine and such other mixed drinks while the boss cleaned up from the previous guests. Charles left early that night. The flashback makes Venti gag a little in his mouth.

            “Diluc…” Venti slurred out, his elbow on the counter whilst supporting his head, “I would like another glass of the usual.” He waved the empty wine glass in the air above, grabbing his attention. The host huffed, knowing the bard is too far from sober.

            “I think you’ve had enough,” Diluc rejected the request, which made Venti frown. He finished up the last table, before proceeding to cleaning a few of the glassware that he carried back from where he left sparkling clean. “That will be your last drink, unless you want to pay the bill for everything and the other guests.”

            “Boo, no fair,” Venti poked out his tongue at him and looked at the other empty bottles he left on the table. Yeah, definitely a lot. And probably really expensive. “I can drink way more than this sir, you’ve seen my capabilities,” Venti smirked. Calling Diluc sir always made him blush and little, and that time was no exception. That is, when he coughed out and nearly dropped the glass he attempted to polish in his hand.

            “Like I said, you’ve had enough. I cannot call myself a bartender if I pour out alcohol to a drunk guest, let alone you.”

            “Fine,” Venti pouted, “at least let me drink back at your pla-“

            “Absolutely not,” Diluc interrupted and settled the now polished glass underneath the counter before moving on to the next.

            “Hey you didn’t let me finish,” Venti slid his glass as if he was seductively offering him money, “at least let me drink back at your place.”

            Diluc takes the glass from his fingers and places it in the sink behind him. “Again, you’ve drank too much. It is too much of a hassle carrying you back.”

            “Aww, but you’d want that,” Venti teased, and the bartender was silent with no reply, “because if someone else carried me-“

Diluc cleared his throat and glared at the bard. Venti always found it funny when Diluc was teased or jealous. Of course, Venti would never actually do what he suggested just to rile the redhead up. But that never stopped him from being spontaneous within limits.

            “Okay!” Venti shouted out in glee and slipped out of his seat to lazily stand. The bartender nearly jumped over the counter. “I’ll be heading off now, because I’m not drunk, and I am still sober enough to walk. Bye bye, kind bartender!” Venti turned towards the door and stumbled towards it. As he was about to turn the knob, Diluc’s hand stopped his movements. Much as Venti could try to move his hand, the other did not budge. The bard knew he grabbed all of his attention and it was easier to make things to his way that night. “Alright, I’ll let you drink back at the winery. Just… don’t make a ruckus.”

            Venti looked up behind and saw a concerned Diluc that looked back at those emerald eyes. “You sure about that?”

            A nod.

            Venti did not wait too long before Diluc closed the rest of Angel’s Share and was carried by him to the way back towards the winery. It’s a bit of a walk, but nothing that the bartender could not handle. “I can walk; besides I think I’m getting a bit heavy from all the liquid and stuff,” Venti offers, but Diluc just keeps walking.

            “No, you’re not walking.” Diluc just spoils him way too much regardless. Venti’s arms wrapped around Diluc’s chest and felt the small heat that emanated from his clothes. He could feel, always could feel, Diluc’s heartbeat racing at a breakneck pace. The Archon’s cape flowed gracefully in the night wind – it soothed against his cheek, which burned up from the excessive intake of wine. His chin rested against Diluc’s shoulder, and the other paid no mind.

The walk was silent, but it was delightful. Peace and quiet; this were what Venti loved about these nights with just the two together. But as all things came to an end, they were suddenly at the front doors of the winery. The windows were all dark, only reflecting the moonlight – everyone inside must be sleeping, or at least the maids all went home. Notes of grapes danced in his olfactory senses.

            “Bard, I need to get the keys in my pocket.”

Venti whined as he felt the arm that supported his weight beneath his legs start to give, and he too was now standing but on the verge of losing balance against the stone pavement. Diluc fumbled in his coat pocket and whipped out a set of keys that was attached to a ring. The fancy gold one, was inserted into the lock and clicked that the door had opened. It’s dark inside.

            Diluc flipped the light switch and the whole room was illuminated. The main living room was cleaned and in their usual places. A huge fancy blood orange rug, with decorative lines along the border took up probably half of that room. Where the rug failed to cover, tiles with diagonal accents spread outside. This was a house of classical luxury that opposes the modern sense. The smell of grapes was stronger here compared to outside where all the grapevines surrounded the mansion. Underneath that top note, there’s also a floral hint… perhaps it was dandelion? Or sweet flowers? Either way, Venti was not at the right mindset to even care.

            “Have a seat at the table,” Diluc offered, “and I’ll fetch you some dandelion wine I just recently made.”

            Venti walked over the rug and pulled out the chair closest to the stairs, “you’re not going to drink with me?”

            There was a bit of hesitance in Diluc reply, “I’ll drink… but something else.”

            “Ooh, sounds interesting. I’ll just wait for what the bartender has on the secret menu.” He sat down; the gravity pulled all of his weight towards it. He sobered up a bit during the trip back to the winery, but of course all the alcohol had not metabolised within the span of less than an hour. It was silent in the winery, no signs of white noise anywhere. It’s just… soundless. Where did Diluc go exactly?

He heard footsteps approaching from the stairs that lead to the basement door. It seemed to be where all the concoctions and delicious dandelion wine was left to ferment until ingestion. Diluc rose up and stepped towards the bard with one bottle on each hand, both labelled and two wine glasses held by the stems. The bottle on his left hand was given to Venti, and Diluc with the other. Venti stared at the bottle in delight. “Wow, is this a bottle of the famed dandelion wine?”

            Diluc shook his head. “It’s a variation of it though. We’ve planned a non-alcoholic version as well as a mid-strength one. People have said that both taste a little… indifferent.”

            Venti waited no longer and pulled on the cork of his bottle to no avail. “Well Mr. Diluc, thank you for your kind generosity for providing this fine bottle of wine,” Venti said in mock posh, “the only way I’ll enjoy this…” he rotated said bottle to look at the label at the base, “alcohol version, is to drink it to my heart’s content.”

            “Again,” Diluc sighed, as he grabbed the bottle from Venti’s hands to open it himself, “please drink in moderation and be responsible.”

Venti laughed, as the open bottle is passed back to him. Diluc offers a wine glass, but Venti shook his hand and took a swig from the bottle, relishing the complex flavours. It fell quite on the sweet side. “This is quite sweet, saccharine even. I never knew wine could taste this nice.”

            “Glad you like it,” Diluc opened his bottle, pouring himself a standard glass and sips from it. There’s a slight bitterness on his end however, which made him wince a little. “Though I feel, my bottle may have used the wrong grapes?”

            “That’s fine,” Venti assured, “a bottle is a bottle.” Another swig.

            The night went by pretty slowly. By then, it was about one in the morning, and the two are still deep in their usual conversations about superficial things. They knew each other in the back of their minds; baseless talking always kept them pretty close even now. Venti seemed to have cleared up most of the alcohol in his system… though Diluc is struggling to open his eyes and keep his head up.

            “Diluc,” Venti asked, “are you sure you’re fine.”

            “I am quite frankly, fine and feel very good, thank you very much.” Clearly, he was not.

Diluc’s bottle was but a quarter full. The bard read the label on his own bottle, he realised a discrepancy – the ‘non-‘ prefix was rubbed out to a barely noticeable dent in the paper. The two bottles were compared, and Diluc drank the wrong wine.

He drank the alcoholic version, of course he did. He must have switched both while pouring the wine in.

            “Okay Sir Diluc, you’d have more than your fair share of that unreleased wine,” Venti pointed out and sets the bottle away from the bartender, who groaned against the table. The glass he was drinking from was half a standard; Venti drank from it anyways, since he was closer to sobriety of the two. He nudged Diluc to get up from his seat, but the man did not budge. “I’m comfortable here.”

            “You’ll thank me if you come up to the bed, it’s better there.”

            Diluc swung his head away. “You can’t make me.”

Clearly, this irritated Venti. Despite having more than enough patience, that night was just desperately needed to be ended. He felt drowsy, so he gave Diluc one last pull on his coat before he finally stood up. Albeit, if he actually could stand upright and balanced. Diluc’s weight against Venti’s frame is a recipe for disaster, so Venti simply just held his hand as they walked up the stairs towards his room. Diluc may have tripped a few times, but he always got his balance back.

The bedroom is simplistic enough – a king-sized bed with a white quilt on top of it and two cloudy pillows against the bedframe, a nightstand on either side of the bed with an illuminated lamp on its left side, a red rug that took up half the floor with decorative patterns of white. The desk is sophisticated, made of delicately carved oak wood. Two doors on the right side of the room, one to a walk-in wardrobe and the other the bathroom. But first the bed.           

            Venti took off Diluc’s coat, still warm to the touch and his scent lingered. Diluc’s light grey vest is exposed where underneath a black shirt resided, “I’ll need to get you changed,” he said as the bartender flopped onto the bed. Venti sprinted to the wardrobe and barged in, throwing the coat on the side and grabbing any comfortable nightwear in one of the drawers.

            When he got the clothes, Diluc is sound asleep. Changing Diluc while he is sleeping and dragging him under the covers proved to be a mess.

            And it was.

            That entire night, Diluc reeked of wine. The bard was so unbothered to even move Diluc since he took up the majority of the bed, so he ended up sleeping in one of the other free rooms. It looked slightly identical to Diluc’s quarters, except that the bed was a double bed instead of a king-size though it was still comfortable enough for the bard’s small frame. Though what’s the point of such large bed if the bartender was not sleeping by his side? As the day approached, now there the two were back in Diluc’s room, still reeking of wine.

            But this time, Diluc has the worst hangover and could not leave his bed.

            “Drink a bit of water,” Venti offers with a glass of cold water, “you need to stay hydrated. Frankly, I’m just surprised you didn’t… vomit everywhere.”

            Diluc shakily receives it, taking a small sip before setting it on the nightstand. “God, what did I drink last night?”

            “You switched the bottles,” Venti replies in an irritated tone, “bold of you to even give me the non-alcoholic version.”

            Now, this wouldn’t usually make a person mad. But considering that the bard is a die-hard for Monstadt’s famous wines and many other alcoholic beverages, depriving him of them and replacing it with kid-friendly ‘juices’ is a bit of a slap to the face. “Well, at least you didn’t drink more than you should’ve, considering you’re a pain when drunk,” Diluc jests.

            Venti scoffs, “now my good sir, are you implying that I’m high-maintenance under the influence of alcohol? I can assure you, that I handle it with ease compared to you.”

            “Perhaps,” the bartender admits, “but trying to get you to behave in the tavern? A little difficult. Especially when the guests witness you during your unsolicited solo performances.”

            “Whatever, you can take care of yourself,” Venti gets up and storms out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. The two were quite the water-and-oil kind of people; they did not mix well, especially when things get heated.

Venti made valiant effort to ignore him for the rest of the day, at least before his evening shift. Though it was a little difficult to not open the door to see how he is doing, his pride keeps him upright and adamant. Humans, how did they have the capacity to frustrate another one so much? Guess I’ll just have to teach him a lesson, Venti thinks as he sat outside on the stone walls of the winery, feeling the wind graze against his hair, face and legs.

The day goes by smoothly. Diluc more or so ‘recovers’ from his hangover, the nausea subsided a fair bit before. The walk to the winery is quiet, usually Venti would be bickering with him but he feels as if he may have irritated him too much. Perhaps it was best to settle the fires before they got to out of hand – but he is already at the gates, passing by the people of Monstadt, especially when a certain lady who sold flowers idolises him as he walks by with stride.

Back at the winery, time seems to pass by very quickly as Venti prepares for his ‘punishment’ for Diluc. Definitely, he’ll teach him a lesson.


Tonight, it is a comfortable evening. The night goes by smoothly, as patrons and guests expressed their social life over small gatherings and dynamic chit-chat. Diluc, who may seem quite the intimidating person to be around, enjoyed listening to the conversations they discuss; perhaps it would be about their adventures, or their day-to-day life, or friends who gossip about the superficial lives of others and whatever ‘interesting’ things they can think about. The tavern closes after a good note, and the bartender walks home without a certain someone by his side. It’s a little too quiet, now that he thinks about it.

Diluc is drained from work, he didn’t arrive there with 100% energy. Now, he just wants to relax and- oh wait, where’s the bard?

And there he is, leaning against the long table. Perhaps he is anticipating his return.

            “Oh bard, I’ve been meaning to talk to you-“

            “Yes, in fact we do need a lengthy conversation,” Venti purposefully interrupts, and Diluc is concerned. He’s definitely done something wrong.

            “Hey, if it was about last night-“

            “Not just that,” Venti slowly walks up to Diluc, who stands at front of the closed doors, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

            Diluc gulps, a pit forming in his stomach. Definitely got on his bad side. And knowing that this Archon is directly angry at him… it’s not a good sign. He tries to reply back, but nothing came out – he is silent.

            “Hmm, I don’t hear you explaining yourself,” Venti teases, “perhaps I need to get it out of your system. What did you do wrong?” There is a grit to his question.

            “About last night,” Diluc begins, trying to piece all his words together. He struggles to look in Venti aqua eyes, that seem to fill with rage. “I got too carried away with drinking and-“

            “Hmm, not the answer I’m looking for,” Venti raises an eyebrow, “it was bold of you to assume I’m ‘high-maintenance’, let alone switch my drink for something else. Was it your plan to deceive me in such a manner?” He leans in and is a feather’s away from touching his coat. It smells of the tavern, the lingering scent of dandelion wine and sweat. “To top it off, sleeping right when I was about to change your clothes? You’re quite the selfish man, Mr. Bartender.”

            “I’m really sorry,” Diluc apologises, facing with eyes that demands for an answer, “I won’t do it again.”

            “How could I be so sure,” Venti ponders in a mock concerned tone, “that this won’t happen again? Recall the last time you drank, you started to run around the winery half-naked and screamed to distract the workers?” The memory made Diluc embarrassed, a fiery blush appearing on his face. Venti definitely enjoys doing this.

            “I’ll… make it up to you. Somehow.” Bingo, that’s what the bard has been waiting for. Of course, he needs assurance.

            “In what way?”

            “Whatever you want – just don’t be mad at me anymore,” Diluc could only gaze down at the space between them, he is ashamed to look at Venti’s eyes.

            “Alright, if you say so,” Venti turns around and approaches the stairs, “you should rest, I can tell that it was quite the night.” Diluc is confused, but he nods in agreement, following him up the stairs. He is he going to make it up to Venti? Give him some wine? Perhaps go somewhere together, he could leave for a few days off and let Charles be in charge of the tavern until then.

            After stripping from his coat, vest and shoes in his wardrobe, he hears Venti asking him to come over for a moment. The sight is a bit to take in.

            Venti sits on the bed, without his beret, vest, his shoes and cape – and is holding handcuffs and a long strip of black cloth. “Get on the bed. This is how you can repay me, kind sir.” He really looks beautiful, god-like even.

            Diluc has never seen Venti take charge before, usually he was very receptive if not passive-aggressive. To him, this is quite the change and he isn’t sure how this is going to go. Considering Diluc is the passionate one… usually. So, he sits down on the edge where lithe, soft, warm hands press against his own and forcefully pulls them towards his lower back. He feels cool metal – he’s been handcuffed. “I’m going to do all the talking here, and I’m the one in charge here,” the bard whispers behind against his ear, “do you understand?”

A hand pulls on the hair tie that secures his ponytail, freeing his fire-red mane. The bartender shivers a bit, the electricity propagating down his spine. “Y-yes,” he stammers.

            “I don’t think that’s an appropriate answer, Sir Diluc. You should try again.”

            “U-uhm… Yes, sir.”

            “Good boy,” Venti praises him, wrapping his hand towards Diluc’s chin and pulling it to the side to face the bard. Lips collide, the tongue intertwining, he wants Venti, he wants him so badly, to touch those cheeks…

            But his hands are bound. Venti notices this and pulls out from the heated kiss, a string of saliva stretching between the two. “Aww,” Venti whines, “is my baby boy wanting some more attention?” Diluc nods and faces down in shame.

            “Lay down on your back,” Venti moves away, to let the bigger male spread out on to the king bed. A king, under the mercy of an Archon, the anemo one of all possibilities. Sweat beads on the pyro user’s forehead, he craves to wreck Venti and relish him for all his worth, but the cuffs… they just will not give.

Venti straddles his left leg, the bartender feeling the weight press against him. He wants to throw his pants out, he should have taken them off before Venti asked him to come over but… now his shirt is being unbuttoned. One by one, they come off, but after each succession the time in-between is too long. “My, my, someone is very eager today,” Venti grinds his free hand onto Diluc’s groin, palming the hardness beneath and eliciting a moan from the man. “What do you want me to do,” he finishes unbuttoning his shirt, exposing the defined chest and midriff that rose and fell irregularly, “after doing this, hm?”

Diluc’s head spun out of control. It is hard for him to comprehend the situation he is in, even when the lust rams into his head over and over. “I… want you to…” Diluc’s words trails off. What did he want Venti to do? There’s just so many options, which is the best way to go?

Venti crooks a smile, instigating his mischief. Teasingly, he rubs the bulge with a little more force and mimicking, “want me to what, baby boy? You need to be more… coherent.”

            “I want you to… take off my pants,” Diluc mumbles. Venti sighs, looking away in mock disinterest.

            “I don’t think I heard you properly,” he releases the pressure on his groin where the other whines, begging for that touch again, “until I hear a proper answer, I’ll continue to do what I want.” And the bard lifts himself to seat on Diluc’s abs, which he is pushed up and down by the bartender’s breathing; his hands, touch every nook and cranny of Diluc’s chest, the calluses on his left hand graze against his nipples, pink and erect for touch. The teasing is unbearable, Diluc wants this to go faster.

            “B-bard, please- Ahh!” Venti starts to suck on Diluc’s right nipple, running his tongue over and over and his right hand pinches on the other. He fails to verbalise his thoughts – it’s just sparks and flashes destroying him on the inside. “Yeah? What is it?”

            “Pl-Please take off my pants!” Diluc begs, shaking beneath the smaller boy. He only shakes his head in disapproval, releasing his tongue from the little nub.

            “Hmm, again that’s not an acceptable answer, sweet child,” Venti ridicules, “you need to beg properly for it.”

            Diluc whimpers, feeling that wet sensation dance against his nipple again. “My pants… t-take them off of me, please sir.” This made Venti smile in approval.

            “That’s a good boy,” Venti praises and leans up for a short, intense kiss before unbuckling the belt and throwing it behind where it clatters on the floor. Then, he progresses by unbuttoning the pants and slowly at a near-painful pace pulls the zipper down… down and all the way to the base and Diluc bucks his hips upward as a motion to go faster. Instead, Venti ignores the request and slides his pants off, only for it to be thrown away to litter the floor. Diluc’s legs were also chiselled like everywhere else; his underwear is also black, but they struggle to contain the all-too-familiar cock Venti always love to play with.

            “As you know,” Venti begins his briefing, tenderly caressing the bulge with his slim fingers that makes Diluc jolt, “I’m not letting you get your way today. Every time I abide by your request, you will think of it as a reward and thank me for it. However,” Venti painfully grasps the covered member in his hand, making Diluc wince a bit, “every sentence you make, you will refer to me as sir, daddy or master. The choice is yours. Understand?”

            Diluc nods erratically, but Venti shakes his head again. “I don’t think you do,” the grip turns into a vice, and Diluc groans out in pain, “do you understand?”

            “Y-yes sir! P-please it hurts…” Diluc answers back, crimson eyes beginning to water, and Venti relaxes his hand to soothingly palm the raging bulge that is begging to be released from its confines.

            “Good boy,” Venti says, “it seems you’re wanting this to be touched, you really want me to take this off, hm?”

            “Yes sir,” Diluc admits, his eyes are half-lidded, head dizzy from the delayed pleasure and the instantaneous pain. Venti sarcastically whines, “Aww, well you’ll just have to wait, my baby boy. Someone doesn’t understand what they did wrong – I’ll have to teach them.” He grabs the black cloth on Diluc’s side and tidies it up.

Suddenly, Diluc’s vision is all dark, there is only the faint warm illumination from the ceiling. The cloth presses down on his eyes and temples, no sign of giving up. It is tied around, and the bard knots it tightly behind his hair so that it does not slip out. He cranes his head, but it’s obvious that it does not make a different. He cannot see Venti, but he wants to see his face, just as he sucks his dick; his mind is going crazy. “V-Venti sir! I want to see, take it off!”

            “Nope, not until you’ve learnt your lesson.” Venti firmly rejects and progresses his assault. Diluc is wrecked, he thinks, I want to wreck him even more. He leans down, pressing his cheek against the underwear – it smells so much of Diluc, and it smells intoxicatingly good that Venti might actually get drunk off of the masculine scent alone. Diluc’s senses are pin-prick precise, he moans loudly at the sensation. He cannot see, but he can definitely feel a lot more than he usually can handle.

Venti smirks, opening his tongue to drag his small tongue over the cotton and Diluc is shut silent. He’s drooling, the drop of saliva running out of the edge of his mouth, gliding down pass his chin to his neck, vessels rising to the surface. “Hah- sir! Please I want your mouth!” Some precum passes the thin material and Venti can taste the slight saltiness of the viscous fluid. A hand touches Diluc’s left thigh, and he shakes back at the feeling. Diluc is a bit ticklish, especially at his legs – so the bard slowly, drags his hand upwards, digging underneath the boxers to feel the burning organ, slightly moist from the sweat, the saliva and the precum.

            “My sweet Diluc, you’re falling under my touch! Who would’ve thought the richest man in Mondstadt with an intimidating persona,” a finger brushes the tip, Diluc hitching his breath, “is begging for me, a bard, to satisfy his lewd desires?” He bucks his hips again, wishing for that pleasure high he’s been desperate for the entire time. Venti however, is unamused.

Leaning in against Diluc’s ear with his hand still in his boxers, the bartender is startled. “Do that again, and I might just leave you to do it yourself.” Diluc is receptive and frozen still, his hips do not jerk up to for that familiar pleasure. However, he shakes underneath his hand as an unsure body anticipates Venti’s next move.

After a moment, Venti yanks the underwear down and frees Diluc’s member as he groans in relief. He pulls the clothing down his legs and it joins the pile of clothes that grows on the floor – his lover’s dick stood tall, pulsing with each heartbeat. Definitely on the larger side though, and it’s quite well-trimmed. “Ah, I’ve been waiting for this!” Venti exclaims in delight, licking his lips. He grips on the base of his dick, and Diluc is finally getting what he wants-

            But it’s not enough.

            Venti strokes at a snail’s pace, motioning up and down to tease Diluc even more. Well, he did want this, but of course at what speed? Instead, Venti savours the sight of the redhead who whines, trying so hard not to jolt his hips forward to gain his traction. His breathing is broken, desperately taking in the air that smells of sweat and sex and exhaling that steam is practically diffusing out. “Sir,” he cries out, “please go faster!”

            “Nope,” Venti rejects, maintaining the same rhythm, “tell me, what did my Diluc do wrong? If you say the right answer, I’ll do what you want.”

            “I got too carried away,” Diluc replies, “and I gave you the wrong drink just so you wouldn’t get drunk, so I ended up having the other bottle.” There is a silence hanging in the air and it makes him nervous. Is Venti angry? Or is he happy? He can’t tell because of the stupid blindfold-

            “Alright, I’ll give you an A for effort,” Venti jokes and accelerates his pace, jerking Diluc off rapidly. This is it! The high reaches even higher as slick heat surrounds him penis, leaking precum at the tip and dripping down to ease the friction between Venti and Diluc. “Does this feel good?” Venti asks.

            “Yes daddy,” Diluc confesses, but realises what he says which makes him brush a hot pink. He thinks it’s embarrassing, but to Venti it’s among the hottest things he’s done so far.

            “Good boy, you deserve a reward.” And a warm, wet heat envelops the tip of his cock, a tongue caressing the sensitive spot and Diluc groans out in euphoria. It still isn’t enough, the blindfold is the only thing that separates him and Venti right now, and he wants to see his cute face going up and down that cock, looking up at him with those aqua orbs. Though all he could see, is a pressing darkness, with a faint glowing warm-white orb above him.

            “Haa… oh God that feels amazing…” Diluc mind is bathing in electricity, short-circuiting as he his mouth can only groan, moan and whine in the delicious pleasure he is indulging in. Venti looks at Diluc’s face, his pearl-white teeth grit and the black cloth covering his red eyes. Surrendering to ecstasy like this, it is a sight only the bard can see and no one else will. And he wants more. So he forces himself down, all the way to the base so Diluc can feel how tight his throat is around him. Diluc hitches a breath, a leg twitching. Venti’s form may not have a developed adam’s apple, but his larynx presses against the tip, with no gag reflex resisting the intrusion.

            Venti pulls himself away from Diluc penis and the man whimpers at that loss of heat that the cool air touches against the length. A thin, transparent string of saliva and precum stretches with Venti’s growing distance but then breaks off to fall onto Diluc’s swollen tip. The anemo Archon straightens up and pulls down his grass-green shorts, following with the white stockings with the golden diamonds on the back of his thigh to reveal his slim, hairless, fair legs. Diluc can only lie in anticipation, unaware of Venti’s antics. “Now my sweet child,” he coos, and heaves himself up to straddle onto Diluc’s chest, feeling his presto heartbeat beneath his thigh, “will you be a good boy, and prepare me?” A furious nod in response.

            “Again Diluc,” he sighs in fake irritation, gripping a handful of red locks which snaps the bartender’s head back, “I’m getting exhausted from your unsatisfactory responses. Now, are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

            “Yes sir,” Diluc responds lowly and Venti releases his hold.

            “Good. Now prepare me, because I can tell how much you want to shove it inside of me.” He notices Diluc’s dick twitching at the demand, guess he has a secret kink for this kind of dominance. Venti leans in against Diluc’s left ear, and Diluc can smell that he must have showered before this – he smells fresh, sweet like mild vanilla. “But first, you have to say sorry for putting me in a bad mood. You know what you did was very, very bad, Diluc.”

            “I’m sorry,” Diluc apologises, “for saying that you were high-maintenance, it’s not true at all! And- ha… I-I’m sorry for switching your drink. I won’t do it ever again, so please… sir, please take the handcuffs and blindfold off! I want to touch you myself and see you!”

            Venti sits back upright, whistling in admiration. “I’m impressed, Mr. Bartender. I’ll let your hands free but in return…” a hand suddenly clasps around Diluc’s throat, applying enough pressure to make him choke, but not enough to suffocate his airways, “you cannot take off your blindfold, unless I say so. Seems like a fair deal, wouldn’t you say?”

            “Y-yes sir, thank you!” Venti reaches over the nightstand where a small silver key patiently waits to be picked up. The key then slips underneath behind Diluc’s back and the man lifts himself up against the bard’s weight to free more space and for easier access. It fits in the lock, and it clicks after being rotated and Diluc’s wrists are free from the constraints. Now, he could do whatever he could, pinning Venti down, gripping his neck, taking control of the situation.

But he stays passive, flinging the open cuffs on the side where they crash onto the wood with a blunt thud and he releases all his weight onto the bed. “Now that your hands are free, could you be so kind to prepare me?” Diluc’s hands slowly lift up, trying to discern his surroundings until Venti intertwines his hands with his, guiding them on each side of Venti’s slim waist. He turns himself around, so that his back now faces the bartender. The large hands travel downwards, feeling the material of Venti’s soft, white underwear, rubbing against his behind. He supresses a moan, but he shivers at the sensual touch.

Something snaps in Diluc and he sits up sharply only to pin the bard down. Gasping his shock and surprise, his legs slide up on Diluc’s shoulders, the sides of his forearm supporting his weight, but it was futile. Slumping down, Venti could feel Diluc pressing his tongue against the white cotton and his entrance feels wet from the saliva passing through. “H-hah… yes, keep doing that.”

The bartender forgets to breathe, he just wants Venti all for himself, hearing his moans, his mewls, he just wants to eat up his prey; so, he tugs on the top of the underwear as a motion to pull it off, and Venti lifts up a leg at a time for Diluc to properly discard of the clothing. The bard assists by swishing the undergarment away when it grazes the ankles and disappears from their sight. Diluc drags his tongue against Venti’s clean hole, ripping out a moan from the receiver. It dances, relentlessly against the sensitive skin as he savours the taste of sweat, vanilla and a hint of sugar; his tongue probes his master, pushing inside past the resistance of that ring of muscle and Venti buries his whimpers into the sheets, leaking precum.

It’s as if he is being devoured – being eaten out, alive, all for the sake of pleasure. Venti crooks his head inwards to see Diluc’s cock in neglect, raging for a certain someone’s touch; though he ignores it, he feels he should not be the one servicing the man. “My, my, someone’s hungry,” Venti says with mock confidence, masking his pleasure, “does it taste good?” And he looks back to see Diluc, hum in response and the vibrations coursing through the tight, wet walls that made the bard gasp.

            The tongue pulls away and Diluc asks, “Can I put a finger in, sir?” Venti nods but realises he can’t even see him, so he replies with a yes, needing that foreign feeling again – but this time it’s firmer and slimmer, his index finger slowly prods its way inside, searching and squirming against his rectum. The Archon fails to supress his sounds and he moans while biting the sheets. “Oh Diluc, keep doing that… hah, it feels so good…”

Another finger slides against it, pushing past the sphincter to widen the entrance that clamps around him. He can feel it all; the calluses, nails, skin… Diluc always made Venti feel good without even trying. And then it happens, Diluc scissors him and stretches the fingers away from each other for his ass to gape.

Diluc decides to play rebellious and leans in to lick the walls inside which his fingers made easier access to. Venti groans, trembling on Diluc’s hand that supports his waist and his toes curl at the experience. It nearly makes him spill, so Venti pushes himself off the hands the grip him close, heaving every breath of the sex-filled air. Once his composure gathers, Venti decides to bully the bartender further, lunging at his chest to throw him back on the bed after turning around and teasing, “someone’s being a naughty boy, did your master say you could put your dirty fingers inside me?”

            Diluc shakes his head slowly, looking down like a sad puppy. “No, sir.”

            Venti cups his hand on Diluc’s cheek and whispers, “because you disobeyed me, you can’t touch me with your hands anymore.” And with that, Venti flicks a finger in the air and Diluc catches his breath at the feeling of a piercing cold wind constraining his arms, hands gripping onto the edges of the bed posts. His body is moving beyond his control.

            “Now, be a good boy and let your God do their work.” Venti shifts to Diluc’s throbbing member, yearning for a release. Because his entrance is slick with Diluc’s saliva, he slowly shifts his weight onto the tip and sinks down…

Only for it to slip out. Of course, it is on purpose, just to make Diluc suffer. A desperate groan, Diluc bumps his hips up to force himself inside that teasing warmth – but Venti clicks his teeth in pseudo-disappointment. “Grr- Venti! Stop teasing!” Diluc is frustrated but that’s what Venti wants right now from the man in this moment of heat.

            “Oh my bad; it seems it slipped out by accident,” Venti taunts, sitting his entrance onto the leaking tip again. Diluc halts his breathing, anticipating those walls clamping down around his large member. But it slips out again and Diluc growls in exasperation, thrashing his arms around to free himself from the immobility, despite no success. His muscles bulges in rage. “Bard, put it in already,” he’s begging now.

            “Hmm, I could,” Venti ponders, rubbing his crack against Diluc’s cock, feeling the skin drag easily up and down along the erogenous zone, “but a certain human decided to disobey me. Sounds familiar? I’ll be nice, as long as you swear that you will give me what I want from now on, with the addition of you behaving every time you drink.”

            The bartender relaxes his body, giving up his efforts to resist Venti’s powers of freezing his arms. “I won’t do it ever again. I’ll give you what you want from now on, and I’ll behave when I drink even when I get drunk… sir.”

            Venti’s cock twitches in excitement. “Good boy,” Venti praises, positioning the tip at the entrance and lets gravity do its job as Diluc’s cock intrudes through the bard’s ass, encapsulating in tight warmth. Both moan out aloud, like animals in heat. Diluc nearly spilled himself from that moment, but luckily Venti does not move after impaling all the way down to the hilt.

            “N-now hahh… what do you say?” Venti gasps.

            “Thank you, sir, it feels so good.”

The bard laughs, beginning to lift his ass up after getting used to the length and thickness before falling back down, establishing a comfortable rhythm. Lewd sounds come from below, squishing against the muscles inside and the tapping on his rear against Diluc’s groin area. It’s pure bliss. Though the pace does not accelerate, the bard gathers his expertise to maintain through a tempo like a metronome. Diluc loses control, shifting his hips up with Venti in an attempt to bury himself deeper inside. But Venti pulls out, and the bartender groans in desperation, wanting to wreck him. Cold air cools down on Diluc’s burning member. “Diluc, did I tell you to move?” There was a sense of malicious intent in that question. So Diluc shakes his head no with a frown, submissive to Venti scolding him.

A moment of thought passes through both of them. Venti wonders how to approach this; to push further on the limits, or to give him leeway; he does the latter. In a swift timeframe, he squats down, submerging Diluc’s pulsating dick down inside again, but this time quickens his stride. Diluc fails to control his voice, groaning out at the intensified pleasure that the blindfold provides for him.

            “Oh yes, this hits the spot. Do you like how I feel inside, huh? The way I bounce up and down your cock, wrecking me inside? It’s a shame that you can’t see my face right now, it’s plastered with euphoria.”

Diluc’s cock twitches inside Venti; he notices this, grinding his hips down and down, Venti gasping at the fullness he’s reached. It nudges against an all-too-familiar spot inside, which makes him scream out in delight. His nerves are being bombed with electricity and it shocks his senses that pulls him closer to release. It’s a shame though, Diluc can only lay there motionless, hearing his lover’s possessed by sex.

            “Ahh! I’m gonna- argh!” And Venti loses it, spilling out onto Diluc’s chest, hot semen splattering onto the man as he feels the liquid painting on him. His body twitches uncontrollably with each destructive wave, and his ass clamps down firmly around the rigid organ. Nearly, Diluc nearly did, just cum inside the bard, but it takes all his willpower in doing so. Venti loses all strength in his legs, falling down onto Diluc as he passionately collides his lips with the other, tongues fighting for dominance and area.

            Pulling away for air, Venti inhales sharply before grabbing the box of tissues on the other nightstand adjacent to the lamp. He pulls out a few, cleaning the man’s and his chest. “Haa, that was great. Thanks for that!” he gently taps Diluc’s cheek before unwrapping the blindfold to witness those crimson orbs adjusting to the bright lights in the room. They gaze back to the anemo user’s blue-green eyes, which reply with a gentle presence.

            With the last of his strength, he lifts himself off and his legs shake in doing so. The warmth is not there anymore, and Diluc is confused. “Wait, that’s it?”

            “Aww, did you forget that this was a punishment? Well, hopefully that was a satisfactory refresher.” With another swish of a finger, Diluc has freedom in moving his body and can move his arms around now. Venti leans forward towards the front of the bed, trying to grab something from underneath without falling over. Though it’s tempting; Venti’s rear end is upright, the hole provoking the man as some internal instinct rises in him.

            Two firm hands yank the bard back by the hips and the can feel a pressing weight against his back. They wrap around the bard’s chest, closing the distance between the two in a comforting embrace – a pressing hardness, against his hole. “You didn’t let me finish, is this what you wanted?” His fire-red mane falls on both sides.

            Venti laughs, clearly aware that Diluc needs his release as well. He lifts himself by the elbows, now doggy style. “Perhaps. I can give it to you if you let me hear what I want you to say.”

            Diluc nuzzles his face against the crook of the other’s neck. “Sir,” he breathes out, a longing in his voice, “can I please put my cock inside?”

            “Go ahead, my baby boy.”

And he shoves himself all the way to the base, the bard nearly winded as he feels the member stretching his ass. He becomes hard again, the small erection rising and pointing towards the wall in front of them. Whenever Diluc gets his way during sex, it is ferocious, fierce, and fiery. Hot like lava, that properly defines the passion between the two when he exerts the dominant energy. Diluc opens his mouth, and closes in on the bard’s neck, sinking his teeth slightly into the smooth, fair skin. He knows every part of Venti’s sensitive parts, but of course the requirement of permission engraves in his psyche even when drunk with lust.

            The sensation makes Venti moan, struggling to assert his dominance against the larger male, who is trying to take control of the drive between the two. “D-Diluc!” Venti whines out, about to say another word until the merciless thrusting interrupts his sentences. Diluc already catched on early that the Archon loves being worshipped, even by such a big guy like himself. Of course, he wants to abide by his secret kinks.

            “Master,” teeth releasing from the skin as he whispers against his ear, “do you want me to go faster?”

            “Uh-huh- Yes! Go faster, I’m starting to go crazy,” Venti is intoxicated with pleasure and Diluc breaks into a smile, ramming his cock over and over at such an irregular rhythm that Venti fails to keep track. The whole length deepens at the trough, towards the peak and the pattern continues. Sex-tainted sounds of the slapping of Diluc’s hips against Venti’s rear, him screaming out at the feeling of being filled and becoming hollow and filled again, and Diluc grunting at each thrust as he relishes Venti tightening around his dick. It feels so good, seeing Venti ruined and his ass adjusting around.

            “Sir, your ass is so tight around my dick. Do you like it? I can see that you’re really feeling it,” Diluc sneers and flicks a finger each on a nub to cause Venti to shake. Another sensitive part of Venti, his ass constricting to a borderline painful grip despite Diluc showing no indication of slowing down. “God, you feel so good it’s insane. Tightening around my dick after getting your nipples played with? You’re quite the lewd Archon, who would’ve thought you’re quite the slut, sir?”

            “Ahh... don’t say it like that, Diluc,” he whinges, unable to raise his voice at the man who viciously thrust into his ass like an animal.

            “Was it fun making me your bitch, sir?” Diluc interrogates, licking the helix of Venti’s ear to make the bard convulse whilst being pounded, “it must have felt really good when you saw me begging, desperate for you to suck on my cock. Desperate for you to sit on my dick, but you just loved to make it harder for me, didn’t you? Oh right… master.”

Venti droops his head down, embarrassed but turned on at Diluc being so dominant yet submissive at the same time. Verbalising his thoughts, he has hit a bottleneck – what could he say? He can only give Diluc the satisfaction that he demands for, giving in to his desires. But he gives up the dominant role, too deep in lust as he replies with a whining, “Yes, it felt so good! It felt so good seeing you like that, bounded on the bed!”

            Diluc halts his hips when he reaches the tip, pulling out as the bard wiggles his hips as a beg to be filled up to the brim. But instead, the bartender stops rubbing at the other’s nipples, gently pinching the Archon’s chin to the side to face Diluc’s face as they lean for a tender kiss. “What else do you want me to do, master?”

            “I… want to face you. I’m losing strength in my arms and legs-“ and just like that, Diluc heaves the bard towards him, flipping his body as he bounced back with his behind resting on the bed. The bigger male supports his weight with hands on either side of Venti’s shoulder and leveraging above the bard. He looks beautiful, Venti admires, his luscious, fire-red locks slipping down where the ends tickle his delicate skin. “Then let me do the work, sir,” Diluc offers, and Venti raises his legs towards his head as permission for the former to do what he wants to do. Since Venti is a little short, the calf of each leg resting on Diluc’s aiding shoulders.

Hips sink down and Diluc covers himself inside, his cock electrified by the delightful experience of Venti squeezing around. When doing missionary, Diluc can witness everything: his face, contorted by Diluc’s rather large member invading his insides, the sweat on his forehead beading due to their intense heat especially from the pyro user, and the eyes, staring back at him in lust, love and longing. Venti’s arms wrap themselves around Diluc’s neck, hauling him in for a hug as he bends his arms to lean in closer to Venti. “Diluc, don’t stop okay?” And without a reply as if he does not need to tell him twice, he digs and pulls his member out, Venti grabbing onto Diluc’s gorgeous hair that just smells so good.

Diluc is leaking so much into the bard that it can act as lubricant. Because this position reaches a little deeper than before, he jams into Venti’s prostate over and over in which he loses control. His eyes roll back, really succumbing to the burning sensation in his ass. “Oh, yes- keep hitting that spot ahh!” His top pushes out of the hug, and looks down at Venti, determination and pleasure in his expression. “Sir, are you going to cum soon?”

A furious nod. He goes faster, insanely and inhumanely fast, pile driving into the bard as he is nearly crying out in euphoria. Moans are pouring out of his mouth like waterfalls, and eyes begin to tear up, glistening under the light on the ceiling. “I-I’m cumming!”

Just like that, he orgasms a second time, releasing his load all over himself as it squirts out of his neglected penis. The contractions make Diluc lose it, spilling- actually, gushing into the bard as piping-hot cum burns and fill up his ass, some beginning to leak out onto the bedsheet. With every wave, he grunts as he finally reaches that climax that oh, so long he had hoped for. After both of their orgasms subside, Diluc falls onto to bard, his chest pressing against Venti and his softening dick slips out, entrance leaking a thin stream of Diluc’s cum.

The aftermath kicks in, their jagged breaths indicating their exhaustion, particularly from Venti. After a few minutes of regaining their state, they look at each other, nuzzling their foreheads together. “Ready for round two, sir?” Diluc groans, lifting himself up again and obviously ready to go.

            Venti stares in shock. “Wait, again? Can you give me some time to rest-“

            “Nope, you really think I’ll be satisfied after round one from me? I’m still raging to go,” Diluc points out, his erection rising back to life once again. Venti throws his head to the side, unable to reject his request as they continue their copulation again.


Three hours passed since Diluc arrived back at the winery, and the two lie together in his king-sized bed under the sheets. The bard is resting his head onto Diluc’s pectorals, where the other strokes his poorly braided black with blue accented hair, together in a warm embrace.

            “Sorry,” Diluc whispers from out of the blue, and Venti is confused.

            “For what?”

            There is a lingering silence, a wait for his explanation. “For saying all that stuff. I usually just tease you, but it got out of hand. And I know how much it makes you mad when I give you anything without alcohol in it.”

            Venti shifts his neck, to look up at the redhead, who is looking back at him in guilt. “Don’t worry, I already know. The famed bartender of Mondstadt, I’m just so glad to be with you. No need for baseless apologies.”

            “You know that I’ll be wearier when I drink with you.”

            “Yeah yeah, that I already know too. You made it up to me ages ago when I put the blindfold and cuffs on you.”

            Diluc coughs out, leaning over to grab the glass of water he poured for the both of them a few minutes earlier, “About that… I think it’ll be a while before we do that again.”

            Venti whines like a kid not getting what he wants. “Aww, but why? Surely Mr. Diluc had a lot of fun letting me get my way for once?”

            “I did… but it’s better when I could actually see you.”

            Venti whistles, “well, someone is an adequate sweet talker. If you say so. I just realised, you should call me daddy more often-“

            Diluc flicks Venti’s forehead, yelping out in pain. “Go to sleep, Bard.”

            “Hmm, fine, if you say so.” And the two shut their eyes, their embrace and slow breathing lulling them to sleep. Perhaps, Diluc will take the few days off from the tavern.