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Like the wind he channels, Xiao is impossible to grasp. Fleeting, nimble and tricky, as destructive as he is mesmerizing. Aether supposes it’s been months now since Hurricane Xiao came silently barreling into his life and flipping everything upside down entirely.
And yet, Aether can’t help but find him quite mesmerizing as well. The pout he gives when Aether is particularly bothersome, his fascination with the snow coating the mountain tucked between Liyue and Mondstadt, the way he fixes his hair out of his eyes after smashing his weapon into the ground and obliterating anything underfoot so effortlessly.
Don’t even get him started on the polearm. Watching it sail back towards the mountaintops, glinting in the Stone Forest’s late sunlight, scattering qingxin petals and sending nearby cranes squeaking into the horizon. The sheer control he exhibits over such a weapon is awe-inspiring—especially for someone trained with a sword, using a polearm is incredibly tricky.
(Aether had tried it once, after pestering a begrudged Xiao, and sent himself careening off of a cliff so fast that his wind glider almost couldn’t save him from being a pile on the damp ground. He was banned from the polearm thus after.)
He didn’t expect that someone like Xiao, an adeptus with such innate power, would need to train regularly. The blonde suspects there’s some sort of cathartic element to it as well, or that clearing out the local hilichurl and treasure hoarder camps in silence is more entertaining than sitting on the roof of a bustling inn in silence. Such a theory is only confirmed by the light in Xiao’s gold eyes, a rare sight, as he straightens up, pushing a cracked mask towards Aether with the pointed tip of his spear. Xiao is blank, he doesn’t express much past a resting expression of leave me alone, but there’s a change to how the corners of his eyes raise ever so slightly and his lips are drawn less into a pressed line, jaw relaxed.
Here, in the mountains of Liyue, are Aether’s favorite training grounds. Up here, the golden sun is so accessible, not blocked by towering trees or cliff faces and he’s free to bask in the warm light and enjoy the faint breezes that push around his braid, the long grass, and everything in between. The views themselves are breathtaking too, especially on clear days when he can make out the former home of the Jade Chamber to the East and even the top of Stormterror’s Lair to the North, the tip of the mysterious Skyfrost Nail scraping the sky made so tiny that the loose chunks of glowing blue gems and ornate stonework look like small pores on the face of the sky.
A metallic clang and the vague thump of something weighted colliding with the ground resonates suddenly, and Aether startles, jumping to the right of the sound as Xiao lands gracefully, his jade polearm vanishing into thin particles of gold as he scoffs in amusement.
“You are going to be pushed off of a mountain by a mitachurl if you continue wearing that thousand-yard gaze,” Xiao criticizes, and one gloves hand lightly smacks the back of Aether’s blonde head, right above where his long braid begins to gather. The adeptus’s touch lingers for a moment, trailing down the soft strands, but when Aether gives him a questioning look his arms are crossed nonchalantly and the only shift from his neutral (irritated-bored-ponderous) expression is the eyebrow that raises sharply at the outlander. It’s his own overactive imagination, Aether muses, shoulders relaxing with the rest of his posture as he spares the golden skyline one more glance.
“I like the view here,” he replies plainly, then, a hint of a smirk crossing over his face. “Both of them, as a matter of fact. They compliment each other very well.” Though he knows the meaning of his words aren’t lost on Xiao, Aether still steps closer, one hand resting against the curve of Xiao’s bicep—his skin is cool like a quick breeze, and the curling tattoos seem to thrum with the bestowed anemo energy that courses under his skin. It’s a second heartbeat of sorts, one Aether doubts he could tire of feeling.
It’s disappointing when Xiao jerks his shoulder inwards, enough to displace Aether’s hand and send a clear message. Given what he knows about the yaksha, his aversion to such causal touches doesn’t come as a surprise of even the slightest degree. That being said, the way that his eyes don’t narrow this time he shrugs Aether off, as they have so many times before, is it’s own kind of small, personal victory for the other.
On his back, Aether stretches like a cat warming themselves in a patch of sun that decorated the ground. Xiao still sits, his knees drawn up slightly with his weapon resting carefully at the apex of the bend at his waist, fingertips pressing ever so slightly into the ground. His face is partially obscured thanks to his hair and the angle he sits at, with the sun almost directly behind him and backlighting his angular figure.
He’s...pretty. Really, really pretty.
It’s not the first time Aether has had this thought, and he’s certain that it won’t be. The curve of Xiao’s hand, poking through the long grass atop the mountain, taunts his own fingers, and in a lapse of control he finds his warmer hand resting horizontally over Xiao’s. He feels the tensing of Xiao’s arm all the way in the slight lift of his wrist, how his fingers must be digging little grooves into the soil as he shifts it carefully.
At any rate, he doesn’t immediately slap Aether’s hand away, and that’s a relief of sorts for him. Call it another margin of victory. In the calm silence, Aether lets his fingers curl ever so slightly around Xiao’s bony hand, and his heart jumps into his throat when he feels cool fingers curl around his own.
“You are touchy today, Aether,” Xiao murmurs, and if he could Aether would record the sound of his name on Xiao’s softened voice to play back for all eternity. Ignoring the way his heart leaps and thumps, Aether shoots back a trademark, cheeky grin, winking casually at the adeptus.
“Only because you’re indulging me so,” he has to laugh. Xiao’s expression doesn’t shift, just like it never does, but for a moment Aether catches a hint of pink decorating his cheeks that can’t be related to the setting sun in front of them, the one dying the sky with more gold-toned reds and magentas.
“Your indulgences fail to hinder me, this time,” Xiao sighs, and the tension leaving his frame is visible. Millennia of existing have drilled a perfect posture into the slender form, but his shoulders are curving differently and more smoothly. His words serve as an easy reminder—Xiao can leave at anytime, he can disappear into the sky or even silence Aether forever with a snap of his fingers, if he were to desire so.
And yet, he doesn’t.
There’s no label placed on their relationship. Some might think them friends, others lovers, but instead, they’ve chosen to walk a balance between the two. Two spirits, both with their own ambitions, their own destinies that call too loudly to keep them from permanently latching onto another, yet no harm comes from walking alongside someone who can shoulder your burdens just a little. One day, Aether will find his sister; one day, Xiao will be forced back into the throes of a continental war—unavoidable truths that neither of them speak. And for that purpose, it’s easier to pretend that they don’t share feelings.
At least, that’s how Aether sees it, and he senses Xiao is also on that wavelength. After all of the loss he’s both seen and caused, it only follows that he would be hesitant to be vulnerable. But in the rare moments he does, it’s...special. Special like their time together, special like soft kisses and battle-worn hands tracing Aether’s jaw, special like the expression Xiao wears when he lets himself truly forget his duties, special like cool hands and soft touches on bare arms and run through unruly blonde waves.
“You really are strange.”
Xiao breaks the silence, pulling Aether from myriad daydreams. He’s moved closer, propped up on his elbows next to Aether, and neither of them comments on the way their fingers have shifted to lace together and intertwine. The setting sun is reflected in Xiao’s golden eyes, ones that have turned to study Aether with some hint of curiosity.
“It is rare to meet anyone, let alone a human, that does not fear me.” The normally cold, formal edge to his tone has dropped a bit, replaced with contentment. The blazing ball of heat in the sky begins to dip behind the stone peaks that jut into the sky, blotting out the orange light so bright it makes Aether’s head spin.
“Soooo scary,” Aether mocks, nudging Xiao’s leg with one of his ankles.
“Do not test me,” comes Xiao’s cold response, along with the dropping of Aether’s hand. It leaves him torn between disappointment and the way his heart skips and spasms at the lowered tone Xiao gives him. “I could make you a part of history in a moment, would you like that?” Xiao taunts back, although Aether knows that the threat isn’t a bluff. He’s witnessed enough of Xiao’s capabilities to confirm that, and he gets the feeling that even what he’s seen has been entirely restrained.
“It’d be an honor to go by your hand,” Aether chirps.
It’s not a lie.
They remain until the sun has bled itself dry and the night has fully risen, a bright and large moon visible so easily from their little perch. At some point, Xiao had finally caved and let his head hit the grass behind him. Drained from a long day of training, Aether yawns, folding his arms and resting his head on his hands. Camping with Paimon means lots of nights sleeping outside with only a tent or even less as protection, and it would be easy enough to let sleep take him then and there…
Cool fingers tangle with his once more, and a small jerk of his arm has Aether sliding diagonally across the grass until his shoulder brushes Xiao’s. When he looks over, the other seems completely oblivious to his own actions. It’s strange enough for the adeptus to initiate any kind of physical contact, but it’s even more bizarre for him to act as if he hasn’t done a thing. Still feigning ignorance, Xiao’s lips are parted slightly as he stares up into the heavens without so much as a sigh.
Out of curiosity, Aether squeezes his hand. Without missing a beat, Xiao squeezes back. Aether tests again—it’s not a reflex, nor is it his imagination.
“Do you need something?”
Aether jumps despite himself as he realizes he’s been squeezing the life out of Xiao’s poor hand for a good fifteen seconds. At some point, that piercing golden gaze that seems to glow in the dark had become fixed on him rather than the stars, and Aether can’t help the embarrassment in the realization that he was too busy staring at Xiao to realize the other was staring right back.
“To spend more time with you,” he tries to recover quickly, but Xiao’s dark vision is leagues above his own and Aether knows that the embarrassed pink on his cheeks is visible. The stiff mask of apathy cracks then, a small smoke creeping up across Xiao’s face before he rolls his eyes.
“You are not afraid of me, even when you should be,” Xiao sighs. He treats it like an inconvenience, but there’s no mistaking the gratitude that seeps through the cracks of his lying mask.
“Well, of course I’m not. I think you’re a good person.”
Xiao blinks like Aether has grown a second head suddenly.
“You saved my life! That means you definitely have a good heart.” Aether props himself up on one arm suddenly, and his free hand lands square in the middle of Xiao’s chest. His heartbeat is slow, as if he doesn’t really need it to keep himself alive. It contrasts the way Aether’s heart suddenly beats so quickly that his eyes feel strained. He breathes, slow, trying to ignore the idiocy of suddenly planting himself on an unsuspecting Xiao.
“I was observing my duties,” Xiao bites back, and there’s a bit of irritation in his tone. He goes to pull Aether’s wrist away, but then—he hesitates, chest concaving like a punctured balloon with a heavy exhale. There’s a glaring contradiction in his words, nonetheless. Aether isn’t of Liyue, not even of Teyvat, there’s no way he’s contractually bound to Xiao in any way at all. With a bit of a sly smile, Aether leans closer, folding one arm down to rest his chin on Xiao’s chest instead. A huff of irritation escapes the adeptus, and he shoves Aether off of him. It’s probably as gentle as he can muster, but the way Aether’s body jerks back is enough to make him sputter for breath momentarily. As soon as he finds himself coughing, Xiao is next to him, patting his back as he refills his lungs from the charged touch that had knocked the air away from him.
How ironic, an anemo user that takes his breath away?
“Shit.” Xiao sighs, and this time he complies when Aether decides to lean on him, still winded. “Are you alright? I...forgot you are just a human.” If he’s annoyed (and it’s likely he is), then it’s with himself this time. “This is why I keep telling you that adepti are dangerous, Aether.” He scolds, but it’s gentle and almost half-hearted. As much as Aether is used to it, as much as he understands it, he hates how willing Xiao is to retreat back into his bubble of apathy, easily brushing off anyone surrounding him.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Aether shoots back, even though he still sounds entirely breathless. “You don’t have to coddle me so much, I can handle myself. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” To emphasize his point, Aether flops himself down onto Xiao’s thighs. They’re not the most comfortable to rest his head on, given how Xiao is built entirely of lean muscle and bone and his legs being bent at the knee makes any give they might have vanish.
It’s meant to be a cheeky, annoying gesture, because they both know that Xiao won't actually shove him off again. It’s meant to be a point for his team, but then Aether looks up towards Xiao’s face with yet another cocky grin and he suddenly feels as if the air has been knocked from his barely-inflated lungs once again. The moon has risen enough to crown over the top of Xiao’s head, like a galactic halo sitting perfectly atop him. He seems to glow in the white light, the lighter tips of his hair casting a faint teal glow on his cheeks and forehead, reflecting in wide eyes. The moonlight pours over his shoulders gently, spreading out around Aether’s form and dancing with the gentle breeze that blows Xiao’s loose hair forwards.
Shit, archons, if Xiao is normally pretty then in this moment he looks stupidly ethereal. Aether knows he’s staring and gaping again, because it’s Xiao’s turn to wear a bit of an arrogant grin.
“Mind your lips, Aether. I do not feel like wiping your drool off of my thighs.” The grin illuminates the light-hearted nature of the jab, and any smartass comment he could fathom fizzles out like a dying campfire as Xiao’s thumb traces under his bottom lip, across his chin, and then long fingers are sinking into his braid. It’s gone messy with his movements throughout the day, and it only takes a few moments for Xiao to begin unwinding it gently. Aether turns on his side to let him work easier, amusing himself with the patterns of the grass as he tries not to let himself be lulled to sleep by the gentle fingers raking through his hair. A gentle, tactile Xiao is a rare one, one that only comes out when he’s in a particularly fond mood or trying to apologize for something, and every time Aether finds himself desperately clinging to every electric touch that he’s blessed with.
For a few fleeting moments, Aether has a bit of an internal conflict. As much as he enjoys the ease of not labeling the time he spends with Xiao, every one of their interactions leads him to wanting to more and more. It’s not fair, not to him nor Xiao, for Aether to pretend he’s not as attached and infatuated as he is.
Xiao’s fingers catch on a tangle in Aether’s hair, and he’s drawn back to the moment.
When his long hair is freed from its confines, he easily rolls onto his back once more, letting the curtain of blonde draw over Xiao’s legs. Those hands don’t leave his scalp, and the sharp nails feel nice against his skin as they gently scrape against it. Like this, it’s easy to focus on Xiao’s face, the expression of slight concentration as he gently works through the little knots in Aether’s hair with nimble fingers.
Is it normal to want to kiss someone so much? Aether’s curiosity is killing him.
“Xiaooooooo,” he whines, forcing himself to sit up just a little and reaching up towards the other. Just how long has he been dozing off on Xiao’s lap? The moon has climbed much higher into the sky, almost directly overhead as she watches over them now, revealing the passage of much more time than Aether could conceptualize.
As much as Xiao likes to pretend they’re strangers sometimes, they’re not, and he knows what Aether is asking for with a distinctly pouty face and grabbing arms. As much as he likes to act like he hates all of humanity, he doesn’t—or at least, the blonde boy across his lap is a very lucky exception. One of his hands settles back into Aether’s long hair as the other’s arms slide over his shoulder, fingers knotting against the bare skin revealed on Xiao’s back.
Just as he always does, Aether finds himself melting into Xiao’s lips, every inch of his body turning into a jellied mess. For certain, the only thing keeping him upright after a few seconds of contact is Xiao’s arm curling around the back of his waist and the hand now gently holding the back of his head.
They stay there for what seems like an eternity, trading gentle kisses under the guarding gaze of the moon. Aether’s loathe to pull away, but eventually, Xiao does, though not without planting his teeth into Aether’s bottom lip for a moment. The blonde winces, but he doesn’t say anything. Words don’t deserve to break the peaceful silence between the two of them, built by the tall rises of Liyue stone and the dark night domed around them, splattered with the heavens.
“Xiao,” Aether starts, drunk off of Xiao’s presence. Call it foolishness, call it arrogance, for a mortal to come onto such a powerful figure, but—
“I want more of you.”
Xiao’s eyes flicker through several emotions—surprise, anger, confusion, even a dark sort of swirling look that makes Aether want to shudder and hide himself into Xiao’s frame.
“I know I promised you that I would never put a label on you, but I don’t want to be dishonest with you, either.”
Xiao’s disappointed gaze makes Aether wish he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth. Of course, this sort of behavior is only an annoyance to the yaksha, who sees human relationships as nothing more than shallow, superficial signs of weakness.
“I don’t want to pretend I don’t care about you as much as I do—Xiao, I’m beyond in love with you, and it’s not fair to you that I would pretend I’m not—“
Aether is effectively silenced when Xiao takes his breath away for the millionth time that night, this time lunging forward quickly enough that they both go tumbling to the ground. Aether’s arms, still wrapped around his neck, keep Xiao from going too far, and their foreheads are nearly touching when the world stops spinning.
“You should have been honest with me, Aether. I do not appreciate your deception.” Xiao’s words are cold and guarded, and Aether’s fists curl into balls as he clears his throat. The rejection stings, welling up in his ungrateful throat as he shuts his eyes and tilts his head back, trying to will the hurt he suddenly feels to dissipate.
“I thought you promised to be truthful. As much as I cannot understand, why would I be upset about your feelings?”
That makes his eyes snap open, blinking rapidly and pretending very hard that he was not just about to burst into tears like that Timmie kid when his pigeons go fluttering away. Xiao’s touch, steady and guiding, traces across Aether’s cheek once more, their faces still mere centimeters apart and Aether can feel Xiao’s warm breath on his lips. Every single one of his senses has been flooded into overdrive, caught wordless as he tries to make sense of Xiao’s confusing words.
The silence is as awkward as it is tense as they stay stupidly close, staring each other down, both waiting for the other to speak. They’re still touching, Xiao’s hand on Aether’s cheek so goddamn tenderly that he knows it’s not conveying any sort of negative emotions. Then what—Sensing Aether’s confusion, Xiao finally caves with a bit of a grimace,
“I cannot promise to be the best lover, but if you want me by your side so deeply—“ he stops. He looks...nervous? Adeptus Xiao, the great conqueror of demons, looks nervous about something?
“Then I will be there.”
“Thank you for not breaking my heart,” Aether manages with a laugh. They’ve been quiet for a few minutes, still feeling out the air surrounding them, but that hasn’t stopped Aether from curling up next to Xiao and draping and arm over his side, forehead tucked neatly under Xiao’s chin. That stupid necklace digs into his skin ever so slightly, but it’s a mild inconvenience to deal with when it means getting to be so close to Xiao.
“I have broken enough things in my life,” is Xiao’s reply, bitter, but there’s a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He’s just as drained as Aether is, worn out from the tension that dared to flare between them for the quickest of moments. Aether yawns with a little noise, and Xiao buries his face against the curve of the boy’s neck. His skin is unusually warm, and Aether can tell from that alone that he’s embarrassed. It’s oddly endearing, even if Aether is a bit upset with the way Xiao hides what must be an adorable expression from him.
“What was that about being honest? You shouldn’t hide your expression from your boyfriend so much,” Aether taunts. The new title falling from his lips feels like a breath of fresh air, enough to replace everything that’s been battered out of his lungs and then some. It swirls in his blood like fresh oxygen, keeping his heart going and his mind working as he finally gets a chance to sink his own fingers into Xiao’s sleek hair. It’s like silk, falling between his fingertips, and Aether feels a small groan of regret against his bare skin, an exasperated utterance of his name.
He laughs again.
“Why so shy now, Mr. Adeptus? I can’t believe that the great guardian yaksha Xiao, conqueror of demons, is so threatened by an innocent traveler!”
In a slightly less gentle display of his displeasure, Xiao’s fangs sink into Aether’s skin.
“Ow, ow, ow—I get it, I get it!” Aether’s shrill voice rings in the night, and it takes him a few moments to realize that instead of biting, Xiao is now laughing into the hollow between Aether’s neck and collarbones. He pulls back slightly, thumbing over the raised irritations and wiping the beads of blood away gently before bringing his thumb to his lips. Aether’s newly-reborn heart stops at the act, and Xiao’s expression morphs into a smile behind his hand as he clearly tries to suppress a laugh.
“You feel so fragile,” he comments, “it makes it harder to keep you alive.”
“And you have stupidly sharp teeth,” Aether points out, pulling up the corner of the Yaksha’s lip to reveal the sharp canines glinting in the moonlight like little platinum daggers.
“They are necessary.” Xiao moves to bite at Aether’s fingertips, effectively silencing any further discussion. His hand falls between them, soon curled under his head as exhausted eyes flutter closed, muttering something under his breath that even the adeptus’s sharp ears can’t exactly pick up. Either that, or he’s refusing to process Aether’s easy declaration of love.
Despite himself, Xiao can’t help but find himself oddly content with the warm body curled against him. He doesn’t feel much of any temperature anymore, such a thing almost irrelevant thanks to Liyue’s more temperate climate, but the steady warmth against him is oddly revitalizing. So this is why humans are all so touchy, isn’t it?
That’s something that can be dealt with in the morning. As much as an adeptus doesn’t need to sleep, there’s something exciting about the new experience of sleeping curled up next to someone, a new experience that isn’t about bloodshed and gore for once in his millennia of living. And for that, he really has to thank Aether.
“Sweet dreams, traveler,” Xiao mutters into the crown of Aether’s already-sleeping head, only seconds behind him.