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“What with you and Master Diluc being on such good terms and all, that shouldn't be a problem, should it?”
That infuriating, ridiculous little bard. Why Aether spent so much time with him, Kaeya would never understand. He was an alcoholic and a menace, and he had clearly been planning to defraud people with his little “love poetry class,” until Kaeya bravely stepped in to stop that nonsense, and him getting roped into the whole scheme was simply a by-product of him doing his duty, and nothing else.
Of course, he would still have to find a way to convince Diluc to part with three bottles of Applebloom Cider, because a deal was a deal, and wasn’t that the rub of the whole situation, because he was pretty sure that the damned bard knew exactly what he was wink-nudging at. For one, there was the fact that Kaeya and Diluc were not on as good of terms as Venti seemed to be implying.
For another, all of that nonsense about only wanting to do his duty was a pile of horseshit, because Kaeya actually did want Venti’s advice on romantic poetry, damn it all. Yes, Kaeya knew he was professionally charming. Yes, he knew he was handsome. None of that translated when he wanted to talk to Diluc. It was far too easy to fall back on their usual sniping, and then he was left, quite ironically, back out in the cold. His hope had been that with a little assistance, he might be able to get the words out in writing, while not looking at Diluc’s stupid, beautiful face, and then he could throw the stupid poem at Diluc, get rejected, and be done with it.
Apparently, though, the price of his eventual certain rejection was 1) some of Dawn Winery’s cider, and 2) having to eat Venti’s mockery. It was obvious that brat of a bard knew exactly what button he was pushing. Had he noticed how Kaeya looked at Diluc? Detected some softness in his tone when they argued? Kaeya didn’t know, but he did know that he was going to swear Venti to silence, at least until the Windblume Festival was over and he ate his inevitable rejection from Diluc and they never spoke again.
Perhaps that was dramatic. Their relationship had survived plenty of fights, and Crepus’s death, even if Kaeya often felt as if there was a rift between them now. One that was, perhaps, of his making, since he’d stayed with the Knights while Diluc moved onto...whatever Diluc was doing, these days, since he’d taken his moral stand after Crepus’s death. Playing vigilante, apparently, among other things.
A pointless aside. The point was: their friendship had survived worse than Kaeya admitting to obviously, unquestionably unreciprocated romantic feelings for Diluc. Perhaps it would survive that too, and Kaeya would be able to continue hopelessly pining at the periphery of Diluc's life, like the pathetic fool he was.
Kaeya sighed, tiredly, pausing outside the door to the Angel’s Share. Maybe if he was lucky, Diluc wouldn’t even be in tonight, and he could bargain with Charles, and be done. Of course, that was hoping for a lot, and he knew it, especially during Windblume, when Diluc might just decide that it was far too important to leave the tavern in anyone else’s hands. Which was perfectly reasonable, Kaeya guessed, but also inconvenient.
He couldn’t just dither here. Someone would undoubtedly notice, and then it would be even more uncomfortable, and honestly, it was just better to get it over with.
He took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
Diluc was behind the bar.
He didn’t seem to notice Kaeya coming in--not unexpected, when he was so busy--and that gave Kaeya a long moment to just...take him in. His hair was pulled into a higher, tighter ponytail than usual, likely to keep it out of his face while he worked, and there was a windwheel aster sitting behind his ear. Likely a gift from some admirer; Diluc had plenty of them.
He was entirely focused on taking and making orders, and even though he was scowling just a little, he was...arresting. Kaeya almost hated him for it, but of course, he’d never be able to really hate Diluc for anything.
Finally, Diluc looked up and towards the door, and his eyes widened a bit when he saw Kaeya, before he flattened his expression back. Well then. Apparently Kaeya could still surprise him.
“Cavalry Captain Kaeya,” Diluc said, “what brings you here? Knight business?” His tone was dry, and flat, and it made Kaeya want to shrivel up and run away, but that wasn’t going to get him what he needed, so instead he swaggered over to the bar and wedged himself into an open space.
“Nothing so crass, Diluc,” he said, keeping his tone as light as he could manage. “You’re looking well. And the tavern’s quite busy, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Diluc said, “so if you could keep this short.” It wasn’t a request. Kaeya forced himself not to flinch. It was absurd that he was still so affected by Diluc’s coldness, after how many times he’d run face-first into it, but here he was, feeling it like a knife to the chest.
“I need three bottles of Applebloom Cider,” Kaeya said, as simply as possible. Best to simply get on with it, and be out of here as quickly as possible.
“What?” That actually made Diluc pause and pay attention. “I never took you for that heavy a drinker. Or for someone attracted to that particular sort of drink.”
“It’s not for me,” Kaeya said, waving a hand, “it’s for the bard. Venti. He’s offering a class in love poetry, and I made a deal with him so that he would actually do some of the work of teaching , but he wants the cider in return.”
“Why do you care what Venti does?” Diluc asked, wrinkling his nose. “Are the Knights of Favonius policing education now?”
“Something like that,” Kaeya said lightly. “He is charging, so it only seems fair to me to make sure people get their money’s worth.” Diluc rolled his eyes, but bent under the bar and produced three bottles of cider.
“What a noble pursuit. Harassing local bards. I’m sure this is why the Knights are so well-regarded.” Diluc’s tone was dry as dead leaves, and Kaeya could feel eyes on them.
“It’s hardly harassment, especially when I’m paying him for his services.” Kaeya said. He tapped a finger on the neck of the bottle, just centimeters from where Diluc’s fingers hung, since his palm still rested on top of the bottle’s cork. “In any case, how much do I owe you?”
It was stupid. He moved his finger up just a bit, drawing it up the bottle’s neck until it brushed against the tips of Diluc’s. The contact was momentary, but electric, which was ridiculous, but Kaeya was reduced to a ridiculous idiot by his terribly inconvenient feelings.
Diluc frowned, and looked away, shifting his grip to push the bottles towards Kaeya.
If Kaeya didn’t know better, he might have sworn Diluc’s cheeks had gone a little pink.
It had to be the lighting. Or maybe he’d taken a drink or two with celebratory patrons. Sure, Diluc never drank on the job, but it was Windblume. A little bit of merriment could hardly go amiss during Windblume.
“Take them,” he said, “and consider it my donation to the Knights’ cause. I’d hate to have a fraudster playing at my bar, and Venti plays here often enough. And he drinks here even more often, so it’s my problem either way.”
Kaeya blinked, not able to hide his puzzlement.
“Are you serious?” he asked, frowning faintly. “You’re just going to give me three bottles of your limited edition Applebloom Cider? As a donation? To the Knights?”
“If that isn’t sufficient, consider it a personal Windblume gift, if you must,” Diluc said, and Kaeya made a slightly strangled noise. “Or payment for your...assistance. In certain matters.” He had to be referring to Kaeya’s decision to keep his secret, about being the Darknight Hero. “But either way, yes, they’re yours.”
“....Thank you,” Kaeya said. He scooped up the bottles, and backed away. “You’re busy. I’ll leave you to it,” he said. Diluc nodded, and gave a brief wave, and Kaeya practically bolted for the door.
It didn’t mean anything Diluc felt like he owed him, for not telling the rest of the Knights that Diluc was, indeed, the Darknight Hero, exactly as Kaeya had always known he was. Diluc did not have feelings for him. Diluc would never have feelings for him. He needed to stop being stupid.
He needed to deliver this cider to Venti, and wash his hands of this ridiculous, painful part of the entire affair.