Chapter Text
Ten minutes.
It took the two of them ten minutes to disarm, disable, and drive away the unwanted hillichurl horde.
Could it have been faster if Diluc and Childe weren’t somewhat tired from battling mobs of Fatui agents earlier tonight? Most likely. Do either of them want to reflect on that? Absolutely not.
Brushing off dust and bits of ash from his clothes and hair, Childe lets out a long sigh.
The whole plan’s been a bust. He’d expected Diluc to be familiar with the spot but the reality that it’s filled with touchy feelings from the past somewhat dims the romantic nature the ginger had had in mind.
And then the hillichurls showed up.
Of course they had to show up.
Childe’s gonna be lucky if Diluc doesn’t abandon him out here after a night like this.
Blue eyes glance over to the redhead walking closer. The man a short distance away sets his claymore back to its resting spot over his shoulder, clenching his free hand in a fist to his chest.
A wave of new worry washes over the onlooker. “Hey,” Childe calls out, quickly closing the distance between the two of them. “You doin’ okay?”
He debates reaching out and searching the shorter man for any injuries again. On one hand, Diluc could be hiding any amount of injuries under that thick black coat, wanting to take care of them himself.
Most importantly, though, the Fatui member isn’t quite sure yet how his partner’s feeling about being thrown off course and back into fighting rather than resting safe and sound at the winery at this late an hour.
“I’m fine.” Red eyes don’t meet the blue ones looking on in concern. Instead Diluc’s gaze focuses on his own hand unfurling, revealing a shiny golden ring that miraculously doesn’t show any damage.
The ginger bites his tongue, holding himself back from spilling the truth just yet. He still has the element of surprise, after all.
“This ring looks like it’s far from home,” the redhead continues. He holds the band up towards the sky between his index finger and thumb. “Hillichurls don’t usually wear jewelry like this.”
“Maybe a traveler dropped it and it got picked up?” Childe suggests. Going with a simple, vague “explanation” helps distance Diluc from catching onto the truth of the situation.
“Possibly. We can’t be sure, of course.” The redhead lowers his hand, his eyes lingering on the golden band for a moment before he slides it into his pocket. “Whatever the case, we should return it to its owner as soon as possible.”
“Right. The owner. The person to return the ring to. The ring belongs to the owner.”
Diluc stares at him blankly.
Maybe the famous Ragnvindr is a bit more clueless than the Snezhnayan thought. That or he chooses to be very in denial about what was meant to (and could still) happen tonight.
Scenic, secluded spot. The two of them alone. Freshly picked flowers, a bottle of fine grape juice, and a ring magically appearing.
How hard could it be to connect the dots?
“The Knights have too much work on their hands to bother them with another thing they can’t do efficiently,” the shorter man remarks obliviously.
“How considerate of you,” Childe responds, growing more tense by the second.
“Just performing a service, that’s all.”
“A service you say?”
“Well I mean it’s returning a ring. What more needs to be done?”
Childe struggles to keep himself from dragging a hand down his face. Keep it together, Ajax .
“Anyways,” Diluc continues, “we can discuss this more at the winery. There’s no need or reason for any additional detours at this hour.”
Childe smirks. “We could do that. Or … you could perform that service you didn’t want to burden the knights with.”
“If this is another one of your schemes-”
“Hey, the hillichurls were not expected! Besides, you might be a little intrigued by what you might find.”
The skeptical pyro user raises an eyebrow as the blue-eyed man once again offers his hand out to him. Even though he sighs heavily while taking the offered hand, the redhead just can’t pass up a challenge from the Harbinger.
Rather than yanking Diluc along by the arm, this time Childe takes both of his partner’s hands in his, walking backwards and looking over his shoulder occasionally to avoid a stray rock or root.
“I’m getting a strange sense of deja vu here,” Diluc deadpans upon noticing he’s being led to the same large tree bordered by a pair of small lamp grass.
“Keen observation, firefly,” the ginger remarks cheerfully. His bright, inviting act thinly veils how his heart’s pounding in his chest. Please, dear archons, whatever beings of luck exist, don’t let this go wrong again .
“Well, I think this is where the ring’s owner is expected to be,” he continues. The two of them stop once more next to the dimly-glowing lamp grass, the two plants remaining upright despite the wear and tear to the surrounding area. Symbolic, in a sense, but also a nice visual touch.
“Ajax… what are you playing at?”
“Me? Playing? I’m being quite serious, Diluc.” Childe steadies his slightly trembling hands, hiding a quick breath of fortitude behind a smile. “Now unfortunately I’m gonna have to let your hands go for a second. Got some business to attend to. Also do you mind letting me take a closer look at that ring? I’ll give it back, of course.”
“And why should I trust you with it?” The redhead complies with letting Childe’s hands go only to cross his arms in front of his chest. “Putting faith in you the last few times has had some mixed results.”
“Something tells me we’re on a positive streak right now. If that doesn’t satisfy you, maybe reminding you there’s still a ring to return will do the trick.”
“Are you sure there aren’t more hilichurls waiting behind that tree ready to take it back?”
“Steal this ring again? I’d love to see them try.”
“You mean you’d love for me to drag you back home after they beat your sorry ass.”
“Well I wouldn’t mind if you’re the one taking me home.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“But you love me for it.”
Diluc pauses, his lips twisted with uncertainty. Stil, the longer those blue eyes stare at him, the more his resolve seems to decline. “Fine. But if you lose it again, I’m headed home without you.” He slips a hand into his pocket, quickly retrieving the desired golden band.
“You won’t have to worry too long about its safety,” his partner quips.
Just moments after the golden band’s deposited into Childe’s outstretched palm, those ruby red eyes widen in recognition.
“So you finally figured it out,” Childe laughs, the nerves building up in his chest loosening ever so slightly. “Well now that you get why I redirected us out here, this whole thing might go a little easier.”
He bends down like he’s been waiting to do for hours, days, weeks… a lot longer than he’s consciously realized he’s wanted this. The ring feels somewhat heavier as he gently picks it up between his thumb and index finger. It’s not adding physical weight. More like the meaning behind it, behind what he’s about to risk, everything he’s used to, comes pressing down on him all at once.
But he’s a fighter. Taking on a little challenge is all in a day’s work.
“Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to witness a fool throwing everything aside for something somewhat romantic, even though half of tonight’s been spent between blades, bows and punches both given and received.”
“Who taught you to propose?” Diluc interrupts, resting his hands on his hips.
Suddenly, looking directly into those red eyes becomes a lot harder than what the ginger’s used to. “Would you believe me if I told you this was kinda spur of the moment?”
“I’d be more surprised if it wasn’t. You’re horrible at this.”
Something about the directness of those words brings both a wide smile and the start of tears to Childe’s face. “Wow, tough crowd,” he laughs, fighting the urge to brush his slowly-blurring vision and instead maintaining eye contact. “Just bear with me for a minute. I promise it’ll be worth it. No additional battles attached.”
The redhead rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Carry on, then.” A breathless tone like he’s still trying to adjust to what’s going on delivers his true feelings.
“Right,” Childe starts. He shifts his hand up a little, getting comfortable before proceeding to bare part of his soul.
“Well, I promised to keep this short, so here it goes. I love you. As risky and vulnerable as it is to admit it, I love you. This war we’ve been trapped in for what seems like a lifetime surely won’t end soon. But if it means getting to fight and spend time alongside you, I’ll battle for as long as it takes.
“Beyond that, even if all you want to do is have me over to bicker and chase me out after I spike your damn grape juice, I’ll take it too. It’d be a hell of a lot better to battle together like we did tonight, though.”
A short silence. Then...
“It’s not the worst proposal I’ve heard,” the redhead comments. “Anything else to add?”
“I mean it could be fun, who knows?” The ginger shifts on his knee, drawing their attention back to the gleaming ring. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me, firefly?”
A fake reluctant agreement masking Diluc’s feelings. That’s the expected reaction. The fiery man’s not always good with touchy feely emotions, especially when it comes to defining their relationship. Getting rejected or miraculously bringing Diluc to tears too are also valid, semi-anticipated responses.
Which makes the redhead’s look of pure anger and seeming desire to punch him straight to Celesia send Childe into a mini panic.
The Harbinger feels his calm, collected nature start to shatter to bits under that deep red glare. He opens his mouth, gaping and trying to string together some excuse for the man above him to have mercy on his soul.
“You couldn’t have waited four more days?”
Just a few simple words. But the more annoyed than angry tone resets the whole atmosphere Childe’s brain is submerged in.
“I… what?” he falters. How exactly is he supposed to respond to this?
“A nice dinner at Angel’s Share. Some Fire-Water specially imported to celebrate the occasion. A handful of friends and family there to watch as we competed to pop the question.”
“Diluc, what are you talking about?”
“I’m referring to the rough plans months in the making that just went up in smoke with your little stunt just now.”
Childe deflates slightly. “Oh. Well, uh… surprise?”
It’s gotta be the exhaustion or worry getting to Childe’s brain.
Because Diluc cannot be smiling right now.
It’s not some wide, flashy grin. More like a small smile that, with closer attention to detail,...
That red-haired dork is getting all smug.
“Surprise indeed,” the man in question smiles a bit wider and even more smugly, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong, Harbinger? Are you scared or, dare I say, flustered ?”
The ginger smirks. “What a cruel, gorgeous tease you are, Darknight Hero .” His smirk grows upon seeing the annoyed crack in the redhead’s teasing facade. “You also have a knack for not directly answering questions tonight, firefly.”
“Is that so?”
“You just did it again!”
“No , that was just asking for clarification.”
“Gods, you’re irritating.”
“But you love me for it, don’t you?”
The man down on one knee laughs softly. He rises to his feet, keeping his eyes fondly locked on the red ones looking back curiously - and still slightly annoyed - at his own. “And if I said yes?”
“It might impact an answer to a previous question. It might not. We’ll have to see.”
Another laugh leaves Childe. This one’s a lot deeper, vibrating through the ginger’s chest and propelling him to reach out his free hand to caress Diluc’s cheek. “Looks like my influence really has rubbed off on you.”
“For better or worse,” Diluc quips back, moving a hand to rest on top of the one on his cheek.
Childe raises an eyebrow. “Saying your marriage vows already? I thought you’d want to wait a bit for a ceremony, but I can work with this.”
The redhead scoffs. “Let’s get this ring finally returned to its owner, shall we?”
“So, am I hearing a yes to a certain question from earlier?” Even without hearing a confirmation, Childe’s already moving his hand off the redhead’s cheek and gently taking the shorter man’s left hand in his.
“Perhaps.” Diluc’s gaze shifts down to the ring before moving back up to look at his partner directly. Gears of thought whir away in the mind behind those ruby red eyes.
“What? Are you having doubts?” He asks the question calmly and casually, but the Harbinger’s heart is thundering a lot faster and louder internally than he realized.
“No.”
It comes out in a gentle whisper, coated in a seriousness that simultaneously piques Childe’s interest and multiplies his nerves. A hand gingerly settles on his shoulder. Whether it’s a comforting gesture or the start of a let down, the ginger’s nerves and anticipation keep rapidly growing.
Mondstadt’s powerhouse truly has the most battle-hungry Harbinger wrapped around that gloved, currently-ringless finger.
The gloved hand slides off Childe’s shoulder almost as quickly as it first settled down. A low, confirming hum leaves Diluc.
“Just as I thought. Your shoulder’s been bleeding this whole time.”
All of Childe’s adrenaline leaves him upon hearing the comment. A slight throbbing flares in the spot Diluc’s staring at.
The Harbinger masks a slight wince through a sigh. He doesn’t know or care how big the wound is. All that matters is that it’s threatening to ruin the mood.
“Bleeding shoulder aside, would you indulge me with an answer now?”
“I could. Or we could get that wound taken care of first in exchange for a more enthusiastic answer.”
“It’s not even that bad! My arm’s still attached!”
“Archons above, you’re such a child.”
“I could be your Childe for-”
The rest of his subpar pick up line gets cut off by a fist gripping his shirt and lips surging forward and smothering his own. Their teeth don’t clack together but the sudden nature of Diluc ambushing Childe with a kiss leaves a blossoming ache in the mouth area.
“You talk too much,” the shorter man breathes, slowly moving his face back and loosening his hold on the Harbinger’s jacket.
“And you should shut me up more often,” Childe sighs with a smile. His lips waver between slightly throbbing and teasing him with the ghost of what Diluc left behind.
“That could be arranged… after we get home.”
The ginger quirks an eyebrow. “What, you afraid the mood’s gonna get ruined again?”
Diluc releases the grey jacket fabric, using his free hand to motion at the red stain blooming on the Fatui’s injured shoulder. “No, I only want to avoid my fiancé bleeding to death.”
“Look who’s being dra- wait a minute.”
That small, smug grin on the smaller man’s face confirms Childe’s not imagining what he just heard. His breathing comes to a halt, burning cheeks and a heart flipping in his chest radiating his flustered euphoria.
Diluc turns his attention back to the golden band Childe’s still holding between his slightly-trembling fingers. “I think I’ll take that ring back now. For safekeeping, of course.”
Inhibited by a short-circuiting brain and an increasingly-aching shoulder, the Harbinger silently watches the redhead pluck the ring out of his fingers. Childe can only murmur a “wait” as the ring gets placed back in a coat pocket, rather than on that gloved finger his heartstrings are wrapped around.
“Ajax, do you really want to look back on the memory of proposing and think about how physically in pain you were?”
The ginger smiles, his flustered brain finally deciding to cooperate and let him return to his normal, injured self. “Well, it might be something we look back on and laugh at.”
His partner… no, his fiancé sighs, intertwining his fingers through Childe’s gloved hands and gently drawing them down to the taller man’s sides. “We can laugh more about it at home. The place we should be getting back to. Where there are supplies I can use to clean up that shoulder of yours.”
A laugh that resonates with both of their blushing faces and racing hearts rings through the surrounding trees. “This is definitely not like what’s been done before, huh?”
“Definitely not,” the redhead offers back.
“Well, I like breaking tradition.”
“If I said there’s more tradition to break at home, would that finally convince you to get going?”
The Harbinger’s smile breaks into a wide grin.
“Breaking tradition with you would be an honor, firefly.”