Chapter Text
“Rain. Soon.” Razor mumbles, having taken a whiff of the humid air. He's standing on a boulder, surveying the area vigilantly for possible enemies while his injured companions recover.
Aether looks up from where he's aiding Barbara in curing Kaeya’s wounds, and smiles. He’s always been fascinated by Razor’s sensitive nose, even more so since the yellowing sky is as clear as it had been when they departed from Mondstadt that morning. “Ok, we’ll be setting camp as soon as we can.”
Kaeya feigns an easy smirk, even though he's clearly in pain from the slashes and bruises he’s gained falling down a slope earlier. “It doesn’t seem to be cloudy, we should continue traveling at least until sundown.”
Razor frowns, not out of irritation or anything of the sort, but simply because he doesn’t know how to reply. The smell of rain is obvious, and he can feel that slight change of the wind that always comes before a nasty storm.
He doesn't understand the ‘chatty freeze knight’, as he calls Kaeya, and is never sure about the true meaning of his words.
Because of his uncertainty when dealing with others, Razor hasn’t yet managed to close the distance between himself and those who are meant to be his kindred, and still awkwardly waddles his way through conversations.
Of course, he doesn’t feel like this with everyone. Lisa and Klee are nice to him, and Aether is the only one whom he feels completely comfortable interacting with.
Aether is calm, never yells, laughs when he's happy, cries when he's sad, and closes his eyes in a soft, peaceful expression when everything’s alright. Razor likes Aether. Aether wears his heart on his sleeve, and isn’t the kind to coat his words in lies.
“Please, mister Kaeya. You're injured. We will be far more productive tomorrow if we tuck in earlier.” Aether provides with a poised tilt of his head, earning the approval of both Barbara and Paimon, the latter already close to nodding off on the soft grass where she's resting.
Trying to hold himself up when Aether offers his hand, Kaeya wheezes out the beginning of a laughter. “Guess I’m outmatched.” His eyes twinkle as he stands up, still holding the other’s hand, and Razor’s frown deepens.
There are many emotions he’d started feeling only after becoming part of Aether’s group, and he can’t even begin to understand half of them. His lupical has often been amused by his struggles, though Razor doesn’t really get that either.
Sometimes, he’s lingered on his reflection in the water, watching his unkempt appearance and feeling an unexplainable churn in his stomach at the thought of Aether’s long blonde braid, his smooth peachy skin or the softness of his golden eyes.
Razor huffs, suddenly feeling annoyed. He jumps off of his guard post, puts on his backpack and stubbornly starts heading south, the opposite direction from where he’s felt the wind picking up.
The others hurriedly follow him, Paimon lamenting how tired she is and pouting when Aether comments he doesn’t understand how since she doesn't walk.
As soon as they reach a good enough spot to set up camp, Aether immediately volunteers to cook their dinner, waving any attempt of the others to protest. He's always like this, the first to pick up any responsibility or chore, so much so that all his companions have gotten used to it, though they haven’t stopped trying to aid him.
Barbara settles in the back of the cave to sort out what they have found during the day, while Kaeya proposes he could gather provisions only to be gently chided by Aether to stop pushing himself.
Kaeya has that weird grin again, which earns him another unamused scowl by Razor. There aren’t any more excuses, the guy has to be pulling Aether’s nose, and Razor won’t have any of it.
With a sure stride, he goes to sit next to Aether, showing his teeth in the way he’s been taught when he meets Kaeya’s playful gaze, feeling all the more irritated when the gesture only makes the man’s snicker widen.
He's had enough and lets out a low irritated growl, earning a smug grin in response. Seriously, was there anything that could put that damned knight off? Razor is shaken from his thoughts when a soft hand touches his shoulder.
“Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” Aether has pinched his eyebrows in concern, used to Razor hiding any injury because he stubbornly claims that whining is for pups.
“No. I’m fine,” says Razor, for some reason unable to meet the Traveler’s eyes, settling to stare at the setting sun visible from the cave’s entrance. And why are his cheeks feeling hot? A weird tingling sensation travels down his back when Aether threads his fingers through Razor’s grey hair.
“Your hair got all dirty, it’s full of grass.” Aether shakes his head like a concerned mother, still stirring the boiling soup with a spoon. “It’s gonna be terrible to untangle.”
“I’ll help,” Barbara smiles as she goes through her backpack. “I should have a hairbrush here somewhere...” She sticks her tongue out to concentrate, fitting her whole arm into the bag to reach the bottom.
She lets out a triumphant ‘aha!’ when her hand comes back holding a small, shiny thing that Razor surely has never seen before in his life. It has to be the so-called ‘hairbrush’, he thinks as he instinctively ducks out of the way when Barbara tries to bring it closer to his hair.
The move earns him a few amused laughs, and Razor’s too busy trying to keep his face neutral to try and avoid Barbara’s ministrations again. The brush is incredibly soft on his coarse hair, he muses, and there’s something so homely about being cared for that Razor can’t find the will to protest.
As soon as she sees their impromptu hairstyling session, Paimon wakes from her sleepy daze and flies up to Barbara chanting, ‘me too! me too!’ like an excited child.
They sit like that for a while, Aether humming Barbara’s song, the girls soon joining him, as he adds some matsutake to the soup; Kaeya quietly counting their funds; Razor sitting cross-legged near the fire, enjoying the quiet warmth that settles in the cave.
Their dinner is also consumed in peace, despite Razor’s certainty that he must look ridiculous with all of his hair pushed back into a neat braid Paimon has decorated with wildflowers (Barbara squealed and Aether had to talk her out of adding an indigo, glittery bow to the ensemble).
He notices Aether sneaking glances at him, helping a fuzzy feeling to settle deep in his gut, and Razor grows all the more engrossed by the pieces of mushrooms in his soup.
“I look stupid,” Razor begins matter of factly when the embarrassment becomes impossible to bear.
Kaeya chuckles amiably, unaware of the sheer horror on Aether’s face. “I think it looks…” He pauses as he mulls over how to say it without sounding rude. “Interesting? It’s certainly new.”
“Mister Kaeya!” Aether protests, followed by the others. “Don’t say that, I find it very pretty.”
“Paimon thinks the colours bring out your eyes!” The little fairy pipes up, pointing at a flaming red windwheel aster perched right near Razor’s temple. “Don’t you think so too, Aether?” The Traveler averts his gaze from where it’s lingering on the cute detail, showing obvious discomfort in the dip of his shoulders.
Razor shakes his head before he can keep making a damn fool out of himself. “Flowers are nice. They smell good. They are not for me… f-for you instead.” His cheeks feel hot as he tries to convey what he means, he doesn’t dare look up lest he see derision on his companion’s faces. “Not pretty, me.”
And with that, the conversation is over.
Razor sighs, looking at the stars slowly fading with the break of dawn. Strangely enough, there's an unmistakable peace in guarding his friends from harm as they sleep.
He'd offered to take first watch, waving off the others' protests with a slight shake of his head. Razor's energy thrums under his skin, soft drizzle as the last impression of the downpour which had thundered for the last few hours.
The dewy bushes rustle with movement, revealing Aether's white clothing first, followed by a familiarly fair braid.
"Go sleep." Razor frowns slightly, concerned rather than angered. "I guard."
Aether smiles softly, ever the gentle boy that makes Razor's heart swell. "You did enough, you should rest." He looks at Razor's grey hair, still tied into that silly braid, his voice unusually small and bashful. "It looks beautiful. For real."
"Hm," Razor shrugs noncommittally, his guts churning at the earnest compliment. He stays silent, enjoying the calmness one can only experience when night turns into daybreak, the pale moon fading from the vast sky upon them.
Right there on that cliff, the sky clears in pale colours of pink, gold and orange, the damp smell of grass and leaves already drying to the summer breeze beating on their faces, carrying the scent of rain and sea.
Right there, on that open hill, they exist on the brink of reality, Razor likes to imagine. They are the only ones that matter here, firewood crackling, Aether's hair in the wind.
"What is it?" Aether's question brings him to his senses.
Razor realizes he's been staring and averts his eyes, bitterly realizing his new hairdo can't cover the burn of his face.
"Sorry," he wills out after a bit, feeling the need to apologize. Were he more capable with human words, like the blue knight, he'd say more.
'Sorry for me, for my words and looks and the awkward way I stand on my feet. Sorry for being so out of your world I cannot even convey what I feel when you look at me.'
That's it, he wants to speak but the moment he opens his mouth the words just don't form, so he closes it before he apologizes again.
Aether seems to somehow understand, and instead of bringing his doom by asking to elaborate, he nods. "There's no need. I'm sorry too, for what it's worth." His cheeks are pink, for some reason.
“No. Fine, it’s-” Razor purses his lips, cut silent by Aether’s golden eyes. So he nods, hoping the slight pull to his eyebrows can somehow speak for him. The sweet morning wind brings forth the fragrant smell of the flowers still in his hair.
Aether smiles, barely stopping himself from touching Razor’s temple. He sits next to him however, shoulder to shoulder, and hums.
It’s a lullabye, this time, and Razor finds it familiar. Maybe he heard it when he’d pushed himself over the wild borders of the Wolvendom, or maybe Varka had sung it to him, or maybe-
Razor looks down to his gloved hands, sighing softly and listening to Aether’s quiet voice. Another hand, slightly bigger and gentler than his own reaches for him, touching his palm. Razor feels his ears heating as he slowly moves his hand in the other grip, accepting whatever he’s been offered.
The motion feels strangely intimate and almost solemn, and Razor swallows against a knot forming in his throat, unable to meet Aether’s soft gaze.
They stay like that for a bit, aware of the reassuring pressure of the other’s hand, their fingers intertwining as almost an afterthought. Birds are chirping from their nests and the peace resounds in Razor’s chest so soothingly he feels his head leaning on the Traveler’s shoulder.
Aether tenses at the contact and Razor is about to apologize when he feels the gentle touch leaving his hand to settle around his shoulder, daringly playing with the stray locks on the nape of his neck.
This is new, all of this is new. Nothing Razor has learned is even close to how the touch makes him feel, his heartbeat picking up and taking away his breath.
Why is he like this? he wonders, unable to explain the reason why he wants Aether to take off his gloves and touch his hair again. It’s almost intimidating, feeling like he could come apart right then and do something he would regret.
Observant as always, Aether senses his discomfort and begins to move away. Everything in Razor’s body screams for him to chase that contact, so he turns his head to the side and-
Aether’s lips are chapped and warm and make him feel at home , somehow, but the contact lasts barely a heartbeat before Razor chickens out and rushes to stand up and get some distance between himself and the Traveler.
His cheeks and neck are burning so much he thinks he’s going to melt, and he instinctively clutches his Vision as if it could somehow protect him from the dread filling his stomach. He doesn’t know why he feels miserable, and he grows even more agitated when Aether simply stares at him, speechless.
“Sorry.” Yet another apology hangs heavy between them. Razor swallows and leaves his guarding spot behind, missing the aching gaze that settles on his silvery hair as soon as he scurries away.