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Fridays bring about the largest crowds to Angel’s Share and Diluc’s most persistent headaches. Usually, the title belongs to either his drunken bard of an Archon or the equally inebriated Cavalry Captain, but on Fridays, it belongs to masses of people crammed into the tavern, raucous and insufferable in the late night hours.
Worse still, the stagnant heat within the Tavern adheres Diluc’s shirt to his back with sweat. His face feels flushed enough that he removes his vest and opens the top two buttons of his shirt. It garners some unwanted attention, but sacrifices must be made. And no one approaches him despite eying him for hours, so it’s a win-win in his mind.
As the hours tick by, the crowd thins somewhat, though there are still enough people that Diluc considers leaving the Friday shift to Charles. Which he contemplates every week and then feels guilt curl in his stomach when he remembers the drunkards Charles deals with the rest of the week.
“Master Diluc?”
Snapping out of auto-pilot, Diluc focuses his attention on the man in front of him, one of the younger knights who seems to visit the tavern more for Diluc’s face rather than the drinks. Diluc offers a smile and sees the man flush. Thank goodness Kaeya isn’t here to tease the poor man away from the already shorthanded Knights of Favonius. “Yes, Sir Aeron?”
“May I have another...” Aeron tilts his cup helplessly, lost on what he had ordered. Diluc sighs inwardly and nods, glad he suggested one of the least alcoholic options to Aeron.
As he prepares another berry and mint burst with a dash of rum, the bell on the door alerts him to another arrival. He catches hints of royal blue and white in his peripheral vision and makes no move to greet the man. He passes Aeron his drink and moves to swipe down the counter after one of the bar customers have left.
Aeron is so engaged in staring into his drink that he has no chance of noticing Kaeya slide into the now-unoccupied seat next to him.
“How’s Junior Knight Aeron these days?” Kaeya asks, beaming. “Still on guard duty? You must be doing a great job!”
Considering the number of complaints at the gates leading into the city, Kaeya is lying through his teeth. As he does best.
Poor Aeron startles to attention at Kaeya’s voice and knocks his drink over, directly onto where Diluc has placed his hands. “Ah,” Aeron stutters as he lunges to right his cup.
Withholding a sigh as the liquid seeps into his gloves, Diluc is about to swipe at the drink with the towel in his hand when Kaeya’s hand brushes past his and freezes the liquid from dripping over the sides of the bar.
“Thank you, Captain Kaeya!” Aeron says, eyes glimmering. And thus the illustrious Captain Kaeya has secured the affections of yet another wide-eyed knight.
“No worries,” Kaeya says as he crushes the frozen drink down into a cube and plops it back into Aeron’s cup. “You should probably order a new drink. Despite Master Diluc’s relentless cleaning efforts, I wouldn’t want one of our wonderful Knights to get sick,” he says, as sweet as honey. He then scrunches his nose and glances at Diluc. His eyes widen just a smidge. “Master Diluc, I believe your towel has caught fire,” he says and freezes it before Diluc can move. Justly so, as they both have learned the dangers of uncontrolled flames.
Diluc tears his gaze away from a suspicious patron who just walked into the bar and glances down. The towel now has brown charring in other blue fibers, all encased in a thin sheet of ice.
Bewildered, he drops the towel into the bin under the bar and pulls off the drenched gloves. He hasn’t lost control of his vision in years, what caused him to suddenly ignite the towel? He wasn’t even emotionally compromised at the moment, just distracted.
Perhaps it is time to take Fridays off. “My apologies. Sir Aeron, do you want the same drink? It’ll be on the house.”
Aeron’s protests are cut off by Kaeya. “Did I earn a drink as well, Master Diluc?” He asks, ever the opportunist. His eye twinkles like he knows that. “Given that I saved your gloves and your time?”
A large part of him wants to reject the request out of instinct, but Kaeya had saved his hands from further burns, especially since his gloves were soaked in, albeit weak, alcohol and also time, as he didn’t have to mop the floor at the moment. “Yes. What would you like, Sir Kaeya?”
Kaeya orders the same blasted drink nine times out of ten, but the honest surprise that spreads across Kaeya’s face is a rare entity that Diluc likes to see more than he wishes to reveal. He tells himself it's a relief that Kaeya is being the slightest bit honest, but he knows that isn’t the complete story.
“Death after Noon, if you would be so kind,” Kaeya says.
Diluc takes Aeron’s cup and places it into the bin under the counter before grabbing two clean cups. He prepares both drinks in under a minute and passes them to their respective requesters, who thank him once again.
The rest of the night passes smoothly, as Aeron finishes his drink and leaves the tavern with one last wistful glance at Diluc and a slightly intrigued one at Kaeya. Diluc is all the more glad for the latter, as when Kaeya jokes of the man’s conspicuous crush on Diluc, he spins it right back towards him.
“He shot you the same look seconds afterwards,” Diluc murmurs. “Are you prepared for a shadow trailing you around the Knights of Favonius Headquarters?”
And Kaeya laughs and laughs, head tilted back and exposing his neck. Despite the layers of clothing Kaeya dons, no perspiration lingers on his skin, unlike what amasses on Diluc’s dress shirt. Perhaps it is Kaeya’s cryo vision that regulates his temperature.
“Poor guy has terrible taste in men,” Kaeya jokes and downs his drink. With a satisfied sigh, he clinks the cup down onto the table and pushes it towards Diluc. “I’ll deal with the treasure hoarder you’ve been eyeing since I arrived. Thanks for the drink, Master Diluc,” he rises from the bar and sticks his hands into his pockets, the very image of casualness as he slinks over to the treasure hoarder.
Diluc returns to making drinks as Kaeya’s seat is filled by another, keeping an eye on Kaeya and the hoarder. When the freak flame does not happen again that night, he pushes to the back of his mind to investigate later.
He does not get around to thinking about it, as harvest season is at its height and he receives several tips about Abyssal sightings around Mond. Leaving the issue of grapes to Elzer and Adelinde, he pursues the tips closest to the city and runs into Kaeya.
“That mask looks splendid on you, beloved Darknight Hero,” Kaeya coos between heaving breaths as they take cover behind a stone ledge to avoid a mage’s cryo flurry.
The flurry reminds Diluc of Kaeya’s own burst, but he trusts neither himself to word the question correctly nor Kaeya not to shutter. So he lets the thought pass as the cryo mage fabricates its shield once more.
They lunge at the Mage in unison and Diluc sets his claymore aflame to break through the mage’s shield. Once the shield melts, they hack at the Mage in unison. Kaeya’s hand pauses for a second and he curses, stepping back from the Mage as Diluc finishes the job.
“What’s wrong?” Diluc asks, scanning the area and turning up blank.
“Lower your voice,” Kaeya hisses. He looks towards the east and squints. Diluc squashes the fond smile tugging at his lips at the expression. “I sense at least four more mages in the near vicinity. They seem to have noticed our presence, so it’ll be difficult to run.”
How Kaeya senses the mages when all seems empty to Diluc is beyond Diluc’s comprehension. He tucks the question into the box in his mind for Khaenri’an related topics.
Refocusing, he shifts the claymore in his hands, feeling the familiar burn on his palms. “Why should we run? Four Abyss mages shouldn’t be too difficult to defeat.”
Kaeya looks at him with great doubt. “You do not pick your battles well, Master Diluc. Oh, well, if you insist.” He mutters something under his breath in a language Diluc does not understand and in a blink of an eye, an Abyss Mage appears in front of them, eyeing Kaeya with a cool curiosity.
The complicated expression that passes over Kaeya’s face is likely not for Diluc to witness, before Kaeya forces his expression into impassivity and blasts ice at the pyro mage. The mage squeaks and retaliates, throwing a burst of flame at Kaeya, which Diluc blocks with his claymore. Kaeya breaks the shield, but in the moments the mage lies on the ground, the three others Kaeya mentioned appear before them. Immediately the hydro mage douses Diluc in water.
Diluc launches dawn at the trio and manages to clip the pyro mage as well while Kaeya releases a burst of cryo, standing far enough away he does not freeze Diluc. Diluc evades the shards of ice as he kills the hydro mage first, then turns his attention to the cryo mage that’s been focused on Kaeya. Kaeya defeats the second hydro mage. Out of the corner of Diluc’s eyes, he spies the pyro mage launching a continuously-flaming spell at Kaeya and lunges to tug him out of the way. Breathing hard, Kaeya swipes at the ball with his sword and disables it before he kills the pyro mage.
The smell of char surrounds them, which Diluc passes off as the pyro mages’s relentless attacks, until he turns and sees the flames licking at the bottom of Kaeya’s lock of hair.
Without a second though, he smothers it with his gloves. Kaeya slowly turns his attention from the trinkets that dropped from the mages. “Master Diluc, are you feeling alright?” He asks, teasing, though his eyes sweep over Diluc, suspicious.
Diluc yanks his hand back as though burned, despite his custom-made gloves being fireproof. Kaeya’s hair falls back into place. “Your hair caught flame,” he says and watches with disbelief when Kaeya’s fur collar lights aflame as he speaks.
Is it really Diluc’s doing? Diluc smothered the flames on Kaeya’s hair in their entirety, so there was no possibility of the embers flying over to the collar.
This time, Kaeya douses the flame in ice, a pout growing on his face as he examines the charred ends of his hair and collar. “I standby my assertion that pyro is the worst element,” he whines.
Diluc’s heart stutters and he turns away. “I’ll replace it,” he says, feeling a sense of obligation after insisting they fight the Mages. “You’ll get a summon when it’s done.”
He peeks at Kaeya’s expression at the end and finds the pout has turned into the beginnings of a smile, crooked on one side. Diluc’s cheeks feel warm and he pats them absent-mindedly, wondering if he set them aflame as well accidentally.
He sends a summon for Kaeya’s presence two weeks later. He has not seen hair or hide of Kaeya in that period, as he’s likely dealing with the reports of the Abyss Mages they fought earlier. Regardless, he keeps an ear out for news on the Cavalry Captain, mostly in the bar, and hears from the younger knights that Kaeya has been in his office well into the night and early in the mornings, enough that the Knights think he’s sleeping in his office.
Diluc wouldn’t be surprised. With all the work swamping Kaeya, he doubts that Kaeya will respond to the summon. But to his subdued delight, one of the maids alerts him of Kaeya’s arrival while Diluc sits in his office, poring over harvest documents that he put off to track Abyssal activity.
Tension clouds Hillie’s face as she alerts Diluc of Kaeya’s presence, as the news of Diluc and Kaeya’s estrangement had swept through the Winery like wildfire. Diluc only realized it when he returned from his journey.
The smile he attempts comes easily to him for once, but the maid only looks more concerned. Diluc sighs. “Send him here, thank you, Hillie.”
Hillie bows her head and steps out of the office. Diluc hears her footsteps on the staircase and straightens his desk, trying to portray some sense of order.
His hands are clammy by the time Kaeya steps through the doorway, an easy smile on his lips. The way Kaeya’s eyes flit the room, the way his fingers tap on the envelope in his hands reveal Kaeya’s own nerves. His shoulder looks bare without the fur that usually wraps around it.
“Master Diluc,” he greets confidently. Diluc spies dark crescents under his eyes, discoloring the concealer Kaeya wears. His eyes move right and finds that Kaeya has cut off the charred portion of his hair and quite a bit more, the ends of hair now brushing his nape. Diluc remembers, quite vividly, of all the times Kaeya would complain of the length of his hair to Diluc in confidence, but never uttered a word of it to Crepus, who associated long hair with some sort of dignity.
Diluc is of the objective opinion that Kaeya would look good no matter what he does with his hair and feels a dark guilt and satisfaction that Kaeya is finally doing what he wishes. “Your collar is finished. Is the envelope for me?”
“Straight to business with you, as always,” Kaeya bemoans, but passes the envelope over regardless. “It’s annual documentation for the Winery. You would have received it later this week, but since I was summoned...”
Diluc sets it down next to the stack of papers on his desk. “Thank you,” he says and stands. The box with the fur sits on the table next to the fireplace. He lifts it with bare fingers, as he ungloved them to avoid baking them in sweat in his office. When he passes the box to Kaeya, his fingers brush Kaeya’s own, and he sees Kaeya’s eyes narrow.
Confused, Diluc steps back. “Did you doubt I would have it commissioned? I even made sure it was synthetic fabric rather than real fur,” he says. But Kaeya is not looking at him, gaze instead pointed at something behind him. Diluc turns to look and finds a vase with small lamp grass set aflame.
He lunges for it before the fire has a chance to spread, but it is Kaeya who puts it out, blasting the flowers with a well-aimed spray of ice.
“What is going on, Master Diluc?” He asks, all the good-natured humor drained from his face.
Diluc glances down at the burnt flower heads. The serious look in Kaeya’s eye has always frightened him, as it was so rare and meant genuine trouble. “I believe…it seems to only happen around you,” he says. He has thought about it at length and monitored his activities and interactions with others. In the last two weeks, he has not lost control of his vision or experienced an unexplainable situation of fire, leading him to think it is Kaeya’s fault. Or at least, the fault of Diluc’s reaction to Kaeya.
He is not proud to say that he first considered it of Kaeya’s intentional doing, once again back to his pranks or cruel methods of pulling the wool from Diluc’s eyes, but he quickly regretted thinking it then and again when he sees how Kaeya’s eyes shutter, growing so frigid Diluc might mistake them for the ice he wields. “So sorry that my presence antagonizes you enough that your body subconsciously sets things aflame,” he mutters, jagged and bitter in a way Diluc knows is completely honest. “Thank you for replacing the fur, but perhaps—“
“I am not angry with you,” Diluc interrupts with a frown. Kaeya sneers. “I haven’t figured out why I’m reacting in such a manner, but I am not angry.”
“Irritated, then. Betrayed, perhaps.”
There’s always a sinking feeling in the pits of Diluc’s stomach when speaking to Kaeya: when they were younger Diluc felt as though he were floating on Cider Lake when he was by Kaeya’s side, that nothing would drive a wedge between them. Now, as they’ve grown older and amassed a larger vocabulary, each misinterpreted word has Diluc drowning in the depths of his own regret.
By now, he knows Kaeya will not take initiative beyond some pretty words. Even as children, he waited for Diluc to direct them both.
So Diluc does, the problem of sporadic flames be damned.
With an easy tug, he pulls open the box holding the fur collar and after wiping his hands on his pants, lifts it gingerly out of the box.
Kaeya follows the movement with his eye, lips pursed.
“Please,” Diluc murmurs, unfolding the fur and holding it out so Kaeya gets the hint to step closer.
Before Kaeya does, he schools his expression. Diluc’s disappointment grows alongside it. But he persists and reaches the fur around Kaeya’s neck and behind his back. The faint hints of calla lily and star anise of Kaeya’s perfume tell Diluc he’s standing too close, but he can’t bring himself to move away.
The collar clasps easily to Kaeya’s clothes. Diluc adjusts it so it lies flat over Kaeya’s chest.
“Are you quite done, Master Diluc?” Kaeya asks drily. Diluc nods once and steps back, leaving Kaeya with the box if he wishes to use it for storage. “The papers on your desk have ignited.”
Diluc curses and turns, praying that Kaeya sticks around so he can remedy the misunderstanding.
But when he manages to extinguish the fire— flames licking at all his documents except for the envelope Kaeya delivered to him—Kaeya has vanished from the Winery.
With only his burnt notes for company, Diluc sits in his desk chair and buries his head in his hands.
The answer comes to him on another Friday, a mere week later, when Diluc mans the Angel’s Share bar once more because he is easily swayed by guilt and his sense of duty.
All of the times that something caught fire near him was around Kaeya, yes, but not when Diluc first realized his presence, rather when Kaeya was close to him. The first time, Kaeya brushed his fingers while freezing Aeron’s spilt drink. The second, when Diluc pulled Kaeya away from an Abyss Mage’s attack. The third, the fourth, all the fires ignited when they touched unexpectedly.
Oh, how Diluc wishes he weren’t on bar duty so he can bury his sorrows and embarrassments through combat.
Is he wary of Kaeya’s touch? That makes little sense when he has processed and moved past their conflict years prior. Instead, he has little idea what to say when Kaeya’s around, when Kaeya insists that Diluc’s words and actions serve to undermine him.
He recognizes his chance to air his confusion when Jean and Lisa walk into the bar. Hesitation grows when he realizes they are dressed to the nines, fingers intertwined. It would be rude of him to interrupt their long-deserved date now that they, along with Kaeya, have solved the issue of the innumerable mages in Mondstadt. He makes a note to at least ask of Kaeya’s whereabouts before they leave, but finds he has no reason for reservations when they approach the bar.
“Good evening, Master Diluc,” Jean greets with a smile. Like Kaeya, he spies signs of exhaustion on both their faces, but they do their best to ignore it, as even a short break is hard to come by for Acting Grand Master.
“Good to see you two,” he says, gesturing to the stools in front of him. They sit down. “What can I get you?”
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Lisa teases. Diluc knows he looks just as tired as them. “I’ll have a wolfhook cocktail, please.”
“Dandelion wine for me, thank you,” Jean adds. Diluc notes their fingers are still intertwined. Something warm curls in his chest. “How has the harvest season been this year?”
Truthfully, Diluc has been agonizing more over his flame issue and Kaeya’s subsequent cold-shoulder in the last month or so, but he tries to answer Jean as best he can. “We were short a few hands this season, but Elzer and the others managed to harvest whatever was ripe. They’re in the process of sorting through them.”
“Here’s to another good batch of wine.” Lisa raises her glass in a toast. With affection brimming in her eyes, Jean clinks her own glass against it. “But how have you been, Master Diluc? You never drop by to talk,” she chastises.
Diluc allows himself a wry smile. “Perhaps next season. I’ve been...alright,” he says.
“That doesn’t sound too certain,” Jean says like the worry-wart she is.
Diluc sighs. He doesn’t want to add to Jean’s burden, but he has little idea who else he could speak to about this, as both Lisa and Jean were the few mutual friends between Kaeya and himself.
“Can one of you touch my hand when I’m not expecting it?” He asks before he can dissuade himself.
Jean’s brows disappears behind her bangs while Lisa’s fond smile grows into a smirk.
Of course, Jean agrees without question, having complete trust that Diluc always acts for the betterment of Mond despite his strange requests. Besides, exposing Mondstadt to fewer fire risks does fall under the category of protecting Mond, but Diluc is more worried about never speaking to Kaeya again without the worry of setting something aflame.
Especially since Kaeya has not visited the tavern since Diluc gifted him the fur. Guilt weighs heavy on him when he realizes his lack of control has barred Kaeya from his favorite tavern. He hopes it at least gives Kaeya’s liver a break.
Jean doesn’t ask for an explanation, but Lisa always does, leaning her head into her hand. “Are you testing something, Diluc dearest?”
Diluc doesn’t know why he bothers to hide anything from her, considering how she always hits the nail on the head. “Kaeya told you, then?” He asks, but doubts Kaeya would speak about such a thing. Despite their estrangement, Kaeya still takes great care to hide Diluc’s vulnerabilities. As such, Diluc returns the favor. Though Diluc would do the same even if Kaeya shouted Diluc’s flaws from the Cathedral rooftops.
“No,” Jean interjects, frowning at Lisa. “He’s been...moping, for the lack of a better word, for the past week.” Though they’ve been friends for their entire lives, the look Jean sends him speaks volumes of the emotional pain Diluc will experience if he is the one who caused Kaeya to enter such a state. He does not look forward to it, though relief courses through him at the knowledge that Kaeya and Jean grew closer in his absence.
Nothing beyond pride and a little fear of their retaliation on Kaeya’s behalf stops him from recollecting the situation to the brightest people he knows. He swallows his hesitation down and tells them of his uncontrolled vision, out of earshot of the other bar-dwellers.
As he delves further and further into the situation, the sly glimmer in Lisa’s eyes grows under the bar lights. She takes a delicate sip of her drink when Diluc finishes, Diluc has the distinct notion she’s mocking him. “Darling,” she says. Diluc flinches when he feels her hand on his own. He glances around the tavern. No flames, as he expected. “You sound besotted with our Cavalry Captain. Losing control of your vision when you brush hands? Heart thudding in your ears as you gave him the new fur? Feeling as though your body is burning only around him? Please.” Lisa removes her hand and picks up her drink once more. She rolls her eyes for good measure and embarrassment burns red-hot on Diluc’s face.
“ Lisa ,” Jean stresses, ears as pink as Diluc’s feel. “Don’t antagonize him.”
“Surely I’m allowed a little antagonism after hearing of Kaeya gripe about Diluc for years,” Lisa says.
Perhaps Lisa is right and Diluc has been ignoring the relentless affection in his ocean of guilt, but he dares not act upon it as Lisa confirms how little Kaeya cares for Diluc. “I’m not sure what to do,” he admits, pushing the words out around the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to force him to reconcile when he clearly doesn’t want to.”
Lisa and Jean still and stare at him. “What do you mean he doesn’t want to reconcile?” Lisa asks, appalled. “That’s all he ever talks about when he gets drunk and hides in my library. Archons above, if the Knights weren’t short capable hands, I would have throttled him ages ago.”
At Lisa’s words of ire, Jean offers a placating smile. It settles his uncertainty, just a little bit. “Talk to him, Master Diluc. Tell him what you told us. Best of luck,” she says.
Despite everything, Diluc feels a little more confident with their support.
If he doesn’t do it now, he’ll lose the nerve, so Diluc tells himself he’ll walk over to Kaeya’s apartment right after he shuts the tavern. He finishes cleaning with surprising speed. Once he places all the chairs and stools on the tables and mops the floor, he turns off the lights and locks the tavern behind him.
In his haste, he forgets to change out of his bartending uniform, but has at least thrown his coat over it to protect against the autumn breeze.
He arrives at Kaeya’s door a few minutes later and glances down at the city square. Deserted. His nerves have similarly abandoned him in the walk over so he shifts on the doorstep for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. He knocks on the door quietly, lest he rouse attention at two in the morning. Kaeya will hear it regardless if he’s awake.
A minute passes and he hears no motion. It is stupid for him to worry, as Kaeya is likely burning midnight oil in the Knights Headquarters or passed out on his desk. On the other hand, he might be fighting Abyssal creatures or treasure hoarders and bleeding out.
“Kaeya?” He calls. If he does not receive a response, he’ll cut his losses and leave. And then scour the wilderness surrounding Mond lest Kaeya's silver tongue has caught him in another trap.
Finally, he hears a metal chain sliding on the other side of the door and the click of the lock. Kaeya opens the door, wide awake and unimpressed. He’s still in his Cavalry uniform with the notable lack of the fur. It feels like a punch to the gut, but Diluc ignores it as best he can.
“You make house calls now, Master Diluc?” He asks wryly. It's said with ample sarcasm, but nonetheless, Kaeya's eye strays towards Diluc's hands. Alcoholic. “It’s too late for a drink, even for me.”
Liar, he and that bard have requested drinks in the tavern until the morning light more times Diluc wishes to admit.
“Can we talk?”
Kaeya considers it, leaning against the door while his ungloved fingers tug at the bangs that cover his left eye.
“Might as well get this over with now rather than later,” Kaeya mutters and opens the door wider. Diluc steps inside. He’s been here once or twice when he needed to deal with more grievous injuries from vigilante work. It has changed little since his last visit. There are few personal items in the room. He spies a stack of papers on the desk and the bed is made, unused, until Kaeya takes a seat on it. He gestures Diluc to take the desk chair.
The chair is at least more comfortable than the rest of the spartan apartment since in the sparse moments he’s in his apartment, Kaeya spends most of his time at his desk.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kaeya asks, placing his hands on his knees. Despite the late hour, his eye is sharp. Diluc knows of Kaeya’s unhealthy working habits like the back of his hand.
“I wanted to apologize for—“
“No need,” Kaeya interrupts, waving a gloveless hand to hurry him along. “Did you figure out why it’s happening?”
Diluc bites back a sigh. “Yes.”
“Well, don’t keep the class waiting.”
“I am apparently besotted with you,” Diluc says. And it sounds right. So much so that he only feels minimal warmth curling around his nape.
Silence stretches between them for a few torturous seconds as Kaeya narrows his eyes at Diluc. Diluc feels his stomach churn. He didn’t expect a positive answer, but for Kaeya to not even believe him—the taste of one’s own medicine is bitter indeed.
Then Kaeya laughs. His smile consists entirely of jagged edges. “ Apparently ? Are you feverish, Master Diluc?”
“I spoke to Jean and Lisa—“ The names wipe the smile of Kaeya’s face, though the apathy that results feels so much worse. “It makes sense. I wished to see you more often and unconsciously responded whenever we touched. To clarify, this is simply to clear up the misunderstanding from our last meeting. If you do not reciprocate, I will take no offense—tomfft.”
A dull pain throbs in his cheek where Kaeya pinches it. “Am I hallucinating?” He asks, then glances around the room to check if any of his possessions have lit aflame. Diluc finds nothing.
“You are not,” Diluc assures, motionless with his hands in his lap. He’ll let Kaeya determine the next move.
He’s rather pleased with his decision when Kaeya sighs and releases his cheek. It stings a little, but Diluc barely registers it as Kaeya tugs on a lock of hair that brushes Diluc’s cheek, gentle enough that Diluc feels no pain. “If you intend to pursue this, I will be very displeased if you flee for years without an alert again,” Kaeya says. It is not a very high standard.
“I have no plans to repeat that,” Diluc says, sufficiently chasticized.
“And the high society of Mond and beyond will not approve of such a match,” Kaeya continues, dropping the lock of hair and pressing a hand onto Diluc’s shoulder. Still no sign of flame or smoke.
“I know,” Diluc says. “There are other ways of procuring an heir, if needed.”
The smile the curls of Kaeya’s lips turns contemplative. “That there are,” he agrees, though the undercurrent of hesitation on his voice makes Diluc drop the topic of heirs and children in the very back of his mind for a much later date.
“You do not have to agree,” Diluc insists. “I am aware it is a selfish desire and provides no one any benefits beyond ourselves. And perhaps Jean and Lisa, who tire of our miscommunications.”
Kaeya stares at him for a second, then huffs out a laugh which Diluc can tell is genuine. He pinches Diluc’s other cheek and leans closer. Diluc stills in anticipation. “As if I would let you rescind your feelings after I have waited a decade for them,” he murmurs and then presses his lips to Diluc’s.
His first thought is to check for fire, but Kaeya tilts his head and all thoughts dissipate from his mind. Kaeya’s lips are cold and his fingers curl around Diluc’s shoulders and brush his neck. Diluc shuts his eyes and presses closer, hands falling around Kaeya’s waist.
It ends far too quickly for ten years of repressed feelings, but he has no complaints when he sees exhaustion lining Kaeya’s face from centimeters away.
“When did you last sleep?” Diluc asks a tad reproachfully. And just a smidge hypocritically.
Kaeya sighs, far more dramatic than he needs to. “And thus the nagging begins,” he says, but it turns into a yelp when Diluc pinches his waist. “Yesterday!”
“Let me guess, two hours?” Diluc says, though he feels a smile crawling onto his lips.
Kaeya mirrors it. “Three, actually, Master Diluc.”
“How you have not collapsed in one of the alleyways of Mond is beyond me.”
“Well, the knowledge that Master Ragnavindr’s heart burns so ardently for me keeps me moving—really, where would I be without—“
Diluc muffles his words with a kiss and pushes him towards his bed. “Go to bed, Sir Kaeya.”
He receives a lazy salute from Kaeya, who lifts his new collar from under the duvet with careful hands and places it within its box. Satisfaction curls in Diluc’s stomach and he rises from the chair, intent on making his way back to the tavern.
“Might as well stay if you’re here already, Diluc,” Kaeya calls from behind him. “Who knows what sort of monsters will attack the poor winery owners this late at night.”
Diluc snorts and takes him up on the offer.