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It has been three days since sir Kaeya of the Knights of Favonius became Mondstadt’s favorite topic of conversation.
The bustling streets of the city were always filled with chatter and gossip, and most of the citizens have developed an even greater interest in cheerfully speaking of other people’s lives out in the open since the threat of Stormterror’s rage was dissipated. Truthfully, most people only offer a few whispers regarding the lives of the Knights of Favonius—not only because they respect their hard-work in protecting the city, but also because simple civilians are rarely brave enough to stand up to a knight if it ever comes to that.
Recently, however, that rule seems to have been bent due to a simple, trivial change in sir Kaeya’s wardrobe. Although many families of Mondstadt would absolutely love to see their offspring bringing home a handsome and clever gentleman such as sir Kaeya, it was well-known amongst citizens that all he ever did was flirt carelessly and never commit to anyone or anything after all. That thought slowly formed in their minds the picture of a charmer, capable of stealing and breaking hearts with a snap of his fingers. Albeit, arguably, there was no one in the city whose hearts were ever broken by him.
In the end, Mondstadt created an image of sir Kaeya that stuck to their heads, but the subject of how and why never actually came up. That is, until the day sir Kaeya was seen leaving the Knights of Favonius’ headquarters in an outfit no one had ever seen on him before. His white fur cloak was still visible, and, at the first glance, no one noticed anything amiss. It was the moment they noticed his covered chest and collarbones that the citizens of Mondstadt watched the uproar rise in the streets of the city.
It was such a trivial detail, one would hardly believe it would cause such a commotion. The truth is, it all began with a single rumor—one single person suggested, for him to change his clothes all of a sudden, it might have plenty to do with his “sweet talker” reputation. Everyone knew how strict Grand Master Jean was; if sir Kaeya had any revealing marks to exhibit, she would definitely have him cover it up in order to maintain the Knights of Favonius’ honorable image. The seed of a simple comment grew into a forest made out of scandal trees—soon enough, everyone was absolutely certain sir Kaeya had a lover and had changed his wardrobe so that he could hide the traces leading to them.
Normally, gossip wouldn’t make it to the Angel’s Share. That is, because Master Diluc was no fan of rumors, and everyone knew that. He despised the Knights of Favonius, the Fatui, and, lastly, the citizens who couldn’t keep their whispers to themselves. Although very hard to please, Master Diluc was also responsible for their protection, working alongside the knights he dreaded so much, and so the people of Mondstadt respected him greatly. This time, though, one of the tables at the corners of the tavern became especially loud. Master Diluc didn’t mind noise unless it disturbed other customers, and he could tell the excited chatter drew in people instead of pushing them away, so, at first, he didn’t pay it any mind. Because this is a night in which he’s especially thoughtful and contemplative, it takes him a while to catch on.
It happens eventually, though. He’s placing a clean glass on the counter to fill it with the most recent ordered placed when he hears Kaeya’s name being spoken by one of the women surrounding the table. His hand stills for a second, his sharp eyes quickly cutting through the group of people. At first, no one notices his stare, and they continue to talk freely. Then, the sentences “cover up his chest” and “definitely something to hide” reach Diluc’s ears, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. He places the glass gently over the counter, leans to the side and soundly slams his hands down.
The second they realize Master Diluc heard them and reacted, everyone freezes. Surprisingly, Diluc doesn’t direct a single word to the full table—instead, he clears his throat, exits his spot behind the counter and walks up to the door. The citizens watch fearfully, silent enough that they would be able to hear a pin drop. He opens the door, but, before leaving, he throws one more furious look at them, slamming the door behind him and causing everyone left in the tavern to glare at the empty space he was in before in astonishment, faces white in surprise and fear.
Diluc isn’t one to walk around aimlessly; instead, he walks to the walls of Mondstadt, intending to go on a walk to the Dawn Winery and check their daily progress himself. Unfortunately, by the time he reaches the city’s exit, there’s also a group of knights returning from their patrol—and, amongst them, a certain blue-haired man whose new clothes became the talk of the town. Diluc has only heard of it briefly, and, since he hasn’t seen Kaeya in three days, there was no way he could’ve known. The sight, however, makes his stomach turn, and he closes his hands into fists, shoving them the turmoil of feelings in his chest.
Before he has a chance to spin on his heels and walk away, Kaeya looks away from the knight he’s speaking to and meets Diluc’s eyes. There’s a pause, and Diluc finds that, even if he did want to avert his gaze, he would not feel it was his right. Kaeya stops for a second—long enough for the knight he’s accompanying to find it odd and follow his eyes to Diluc—and then, without a single word, offers him one of his usual carefree smiles, raising an arm and waving at him. That’s enough to get Diluc to snap out of it, ignoring him and rushing past the two knights without a single word.
As usual, Kaeya doesn’t do what’s expected of him. Rather than moving on with his duty and continuing the conversation he was having before, he excuses himself and quickly catches up to Diluc; hands behind his back, his posture playful. It almost seems like he’s at ease in Diluc’s presence, although that’s a thought the latter quickly dismisses.
“How come you’re so cold, Master Diluc?” Kaeya asks, the corners of his lips tugging up as he eyes Diluc’s vision, “Pun unintended.”
“What do you want, Kaeya?”
“What, can’t I come and greet you?”
Diluc ceases his steps, forcing Kaeya to stop walking as well. He squints at him, trying to decipher his calm demeanor for several seconds—if there’s anything else he’s feeling, anything other than calm, composed and witty, he makes no mention of showing it. Diluc has made the mistake of trusting that there was nothing else to find, no deep place to dig when looking into Kaeya’s eyes before. He has learned his part in that particular lesson.
“Did you know?” Diluc steps forward and tugs at the cloak around Kaeya’s neck. “People think you’re hiding a lover.”
Kaeya’s smile slowly dissolves. “Have you been listening to rumors lately, Master Diluc?”
“So you know. Are you willing to let them think so?” Diluc retrieves his hand, squinting harder. “Is it okay if Jean has to clean up after you?”
“Don’t worry. People thinking I’m hiding a lover isn’t exactly the worst kind of reputation I can draw to the Knights of Favonius,” Kaeya sing-songs, adjusting the wrinkles in the cloak left behind by Diluc’s fingers. “I’ll let the Grand Master know you were worried for her, though.”
Diluc purses his lips, annoyance crawling under his skin. “Don’t be a coward, Kaeya. Stop jeopardizing the knights and tell the truth.”
“Since when does Master Diluc care about the knights?” Kaeya chuckles, ignoring the way Diluc’s expression hardens even more at his mockery. “Like I said, there’s nothing to be concerned about. I caught up to you, actually, because I wanted to have a word, and not about any rumors.”
Regardless of how nice Kaeya liked to play, Diluc doubted he would come up with such an excuse to disturb him anytime soon. His eyes unavoidably drift to the front of the knight’s shirt, the dark lines of fabric covering his skin and hiding someone else’s mistakes. Kaeya seems to notice his wandering gaze, because he quickly brings his hands up and claps twice, drawing Diluc’s dreadful glare back to his face.
“Speak.”
To his astonishment, Kaeya doesn’t play any more games. All he does is inhale, look him in the eyes and say, “I apologize. I overstepped the other night.”
There’s something inside Diluc’s chest—like an invisible hand, wrapped around his heart, pulling and squeezing. It’s been there for three days. Every time he thought of Kaeya within the course of those days, it worsened, and he chose not to think of him altogether. The truth is, part of him believed it was due to the argument they had, and, if that were true, this would be the moment when the grip would lessen. The moment when he would be set free.
The other night, they had a fight. It was nothing out of the ordinary, not at first. Kaeya went to the Angel’s Share once his shift was over, and bothered Diluc into telling him to leave. As far as that went, there was nothing to be concerned about. Not even the Knights of Favonius or the people Diluc trusted thought they should interrupt when their exchanges went to that direction. It was once Kaeya pushed it, though, telling Diluc he was nicer when they were family, that Diluc truly lost it.
He thinks he might be able to blame it on a couple of things—he hadn’t slept in a few days, concerned about the sudden occurrences in their neighbor nations and the Abyss Order; he was irritable because more and more Fatui were seen around Mondstadt, and driving them away against Jean’s orders wasn’t an option; he was generally annoyed by the sight of Kaeya, walking around throwing everyone smiles and carefree comments, only to come to him with snarky remarks and half-assed grins.
None of those would be enough, however, to justify him burning the Knight.
Now, with Kaeya’s apology coming in the gentlest tone he knows, deprived of all malice and playfulness, the pain inside Diluc’s chest doesn’t lessen. Rather than that, it’s like the hand holding his heart chooses that second to split it in half and drop the pieces into his stomach.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
Kaeya doesn’t look surprised at Diluc’s sudden irritation. He smiles, raising his arms in surrender. “No, I’m not. I’m being honest. I felt like I had to tell you this.”
“In order to clear your conscience?” Diluc asks, although his voice has now lost most of its bite. He catches the inside of his cheek between his teeth, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re forgiven, if that’s what you came looking for.”
It very obviously isn’t, but Kaeya doesn’t try telling him that. His smile falters a little, and he says, “Very well, then. I can see you want to be left alone, so I’ll just—”
“Tell them the truth,” Diluc cuts in, tightening the grip of his coat around him. He turns around and begins walking away, but, when he speaks next, it is still loud enough for Kaeya to hear it: “There’s no point in lying. It’s not going to change anything.”
For a split second, he wants to add, I’m headed to the Dawn Winery, if you’d like to disturb me some more. He fears Kaeya will take it as an opportunity to actually follow him, though, and he can’t be in Kaeya’s presence anymore—not right now. Gladly, Kaeya seems to take a hint. Several steps later, Diluc stops and looks above his shoulder, only to find the space behind him empty.
He lets out a sigh of relief, but the weight on his shoulders doesn’t waver for a second.
***
The Windblume Festival fills the city with enough flowers, decorations and tasks for them to temporarily forget all about Kaeya’s personal business. It’s been a week now, and, while helping one of the citizens put up a flower crown over their shop, Diluc side-eyes every single Knight of Favonius walking past them. They are taking the patrol seriously, considering the rumors they heard about the Traveler having to seek an adeptus’ help to clear some troublemakers in Liyue’s festival, the Lantern Rite. Although Diluc doubts Lumine won’t be back by the time the festival truly begins, he is at least relieved the people of Mondstadt aren’t planning on pushing their responsibilities onto someone else.
“Master Diluc,” A familiar, pleasant voice greets him. Diluc looks above his shoulder, finding Jean, her posture as formal as ever, accompanied by Lisa. Before he has a chance to greet her as he always does, he notices the dangerous flicker of Lisa’s eyes—if Jean is known for her straightforward manners and the easily understandable intentions she bears, Lisa is the complete opposite. She knows what she wants, yet she dances around it, threatening people with her eyes and gestures instead. Weirdly, she reminds Diluc a little of Kaeya. “Could I have a word?”
Diluc nods. “Yes, of course.”
“Should we head to the Angel’s Share?” Lisa asks, wiggling her fingers a little. “I hear there’s nowhere as private.”
They do. Diluc has his suspicious on how this conversation might go, although he finds it very doubtful that Kaeya would ever willingly tell anyone about what happened. Somehow, he finds it in his gut that he trusts Kaeya with that, and it worsens his negative thoughts towards himself. If anything, he should come up and tell Jean everything, at least in order for Kaeya not to suffer the consequences to the rumors that are not to blame on him.
Lisa closes the tavern’s door behind them, and Jean stands with her arms crossed before the counter.
“I’m concerned the Abyss Order will try to make a move during the Windblume Festival.”
Diluc pauses for a moment, blinking. “What makes you think that?”
“There was too much movement during the Lantern Rite. They went through a crisis after we had trouble with Stormterror, and then there was insistence of trouble around Liyue afterwards. Even if it wasn’t the Abyss Order lurking around their streets, it was still hard to watch. Now, they have been at peace for at least a few weeks. We have reasons to believe the Abyss Order is switching targets back to Mondstadt, in the hopes that we will have let our guard down.”
It doesn’t help that there are Fatui walking freely on the streets of the city, Diluc thinks, but doesn’t speak.
“The Abyss has a firm leader. We have decidedly concluded that the Abyss Mages cannot be considered responsible for themselves. Not only that, but they must not be the only ones attempting to shatter the piece on our nations. Whether the Fatui and the Abyss Order work together, whether the Abyss Order has more dangerous subordinates than the Abyss Mages, those are all speculative. The safety of the people in Mondstadt, however. . .”
“I understand,” Diluc interferes. Lisa quirks up an eyebrow at him, very clearly not amused by the way he interrupts Jean. The Grandmaster herself, however, doesn’t seem to mind it. “I will keep an eye out for them. If anything comes to my knowledge, I can handle it.”
Anyone else would insist he informed the Knights of Favonius instead—Jean doesn’t. She nods, but she doesn’t leave. She lingers there for a few more seconds, and, finally, she goes into the subject Diluc has been waiting for her to bring up:
“About Kaeya.”
Diluc purses his lips. “What is it?”
“Lisa walked into him changing in the Headquarters last night.”
Oh. That explained Lisa’s sly and threatening looks, more accentuated than ever.
“If you intend to ask me why he insists on hiding it instead of owning up to what happened. . .” Diluc starts, carefully, “Then don’t. I should know, but I don’t. All I know is he doesn’t believe the rumors affect his reputation enough for it to become a problem to the Knights.”
Jean drums her fingers over her forearm. “It was you, then.”
“Yes. It was me. If you’d like me to speak on it. . .”
“If Kaeya didn’t want you to, then don’t,” Lisa cuts in, crossing her arms. Although Diluc’s mind faintly compared her to Kaeya earlier, he sees the differences more evidently now. Her flirty and charming manners are gone when she speaks seriously; instead, there are tiny Electro particles filling the air around her. “You’ve hurt him already, Master Diluc. Do not go ahead and disrespect his wishes next.”
Albeit one of the things he is known for is his patience, Diluc finds that the constant poking on his guilt isn’t exactly a pleasure for him to take in. He turns back to Jean.
“We do respect Kaeya’s wishes,” Jean begins, sighing, “I was just worried. If it had either been anyone else, or there was something else he was hiding. . . Don’t get me wrong, of course. I trust Kaeya. We all do. He can be inconspicuous, though, and it worries me that he might get himself or others hurt because of that.”
A sudden surge of irritation flows through Diluc’s chest, and he is unsure whether to direct it towards himself, Kaeya or the Knights of Favonius, for doubting him in the first place. He though, a long time ago, he would never trust Kaeya the way he did when they were kids—however, at the slightest mention that someone might doubt the Knight’s intentions, Diluc’s stomach turns.
“He would never hurt anyone in Mondstadt,” Diluc says, “You don’t have to worry about that.”
For the first time, Lisa’s shoulders relax. Jean nods. “We don’t. Thank you for talking to us, Master Diluc. We will be on our way now.”
***
Diluc is on his way back from a conversation with a few diplomats wanting to meet him and using the Festival as an excuse when he sees Kaeya, standing meters away from him, right before the Cathedral’s statue, talking to Venti and the traveler. He is no longer wearing the largest clothes he wears—although, Diluc can tell from this distance, the cleavage in his wardrobe is still not as extravagant as it used to be. He faintly wonders, guilt weighing on his stomach and gripping at his chest, whether he will be able to go back to the pieces of clothing he truly enjoyed once he becomes able to call it another battle scar.
It was imaginable that Venti would return for the Festival, and the same could be said about Lumine. There is a smile on her face when she speaks to Kaeya, and Venti quickly perks up with interest at something the Knight says. When he replies, though, Kaeya brings his back to the back of his neck, rubbing it in a gesture that’s almost sheepish. Diluc doesn’t want to wonder what it is they are talking about, but curiosity isn’t one of the things he can simply hide away and pretend they never existed.
Venti turns back to the Traveler after that, and, before Diluc has the chance to walk away and pretend he never noticed their conversation, Kaeya’s ever-so-infuriating senses allow him to look up and meet Diluc’s eyes.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Master Diluc!” Kaeya exclaims, far enough now that the people he left behind don’t quite notice it, as he raises his hand and waves at Diluc, walking in his direction. If Diluc had any better self-preservation instincts, he would spin on his heels and run away as fast as he could. “It’s been a while. I’m going to start thinking you’re avoiding me.”
Diluc purses his lips, offering him the most deadpan look he can conjure, “I have no time to stop and talk to you, sir Kaeya. If you’ll excuse me—”
“Wait,” Kaeya requests, reaching to grab his arm. If he wanted to, Diluc could shrug him off—and if Kaeya wanted to, he could grip harder. “Stay here for a moment. I want to speak to you.”
He ponders for a moment. He supposes, after everything he’s been feeling, the turmoil of thoughts in his mind and everything else, the least he could do was wait for a moment and listen to whatever it is Kaeya had to tell him.
“Well,” Diluc crosses his arms, feigning indifference, “Go ahead.”
“Will you not be resting for a single day thorough the Windblume Festival?” Kaeya asks, tilting his head to the side, exposing the spot of his chest still hidden by the cloak. Diluc is about to avert his gaze when he notices the end of a newborn scar, peaking out of his clothes. Diluc’s sour mood immediately becomes sourer.
“How is that any of your business?”
Unbothered by his dry tone, Kaeya says, “Come drink with me at the Cat’s Tail.”
Diluc resists the urge to scoff. “Do you seriously expect me to spend a night at the competition?”
“Is it a competition? I’ve always thought the Angel’s Share was much better than the Cat’s Tail,” Kaeya sing-songs, the ever-so-playful tone back in its rightful place within him. If it weren’t for the clear mark on his chest, Diluc might think he imagined their whole fight. “I can’t ask you to go with me to the Angel’s Share, though. It ruins the point, the fact that you’re the owner and everything.”
“What point?” He asks. “To waste my time?”
“What, you don’t fancy wasting time in my company?”
“Not at all, sir Kaeya. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Somehow, Diluc thinks it would have been much better if Kaeya had immediately become annoyed at his blatant rejection—instead, his well-humored expression refuses to waver, and Diluc walks past him with closed fists. He can feel the slight change in his thoughts, the way his chest squeezes harder than it did before. There is also the faint registration of his heart, racing, drumming against his ears—because, if anything, Kaeya’s invitation just now sounded a lot more like the suggestion of a date than Diluc would ever allow himself to think about.
***
An Abyss Mage makes an appearance during the first few days of the Festival. Fortunately, one of Diluc’s employees from the Winery sights it before anyone else can, and Diluc rushes to the scene to get rid of the monster. It isn’t difficult—it is one of the Cryo Abyss Mages, the infuriating creatures with their loud singing and shrieking voices. Diluc adjusts his gloves, flexing his fingers against the Claymore’s handle, and stands before the Abyss Mage, lifting his chin.
“Disappear,” He whispers under his breath, right before surging forward and slamming down his weapon.
So far, he has never once stopped to look at the harm his attacks caused. As long as the enemies were defeated and peace ruled in Mondstadt, he had no reason whatsoever to care. However, the last time he used his vision, the image of his own flames stuck in his mind. This time, it rises back into him, and he watches as the Abyss Mage dissolves into nothing, registering the burn marks and the heavy injuries he inflicted while fighting. His grip on the Claymore falters—although it isn’t common for Diluc to suddenly become self-aware, and he has never once considered himself weak, it was difficult to stop and think about just how powerful he actually was. About how deadly that power of his actually was.
He struck Kaeya once, that night. Right in the middle of his chest.
At that moment, he didn’t think. He threw his Claymore to the side, next to the spot on the floor where Kaeya’s sword had fallen. He turned his back on him and told him to walk away.
What kind of asshole—
Diluc sighs, massaging his temple and trying to dissipate the headache he feels growing. Thinking about Kaeya was painful enough before he went ahead and screwed the rest of their relationship up.
It’s odd, though. The way he sees completely unable to get over that one fight, when Kaeya has so clearly moved on from it. Besides, even if he did hurt Kaeya that much—why should he care? Hasn’t Kaeya done worse? Hasn’t he been holding on to that stupid grudge for so many years, only for him to completely get over it and feel bad about his own actions towards Kaeya?
He swirls the glass of wine in his hands, wrinkling his nose at it. He tried taking a sip earlier, but he couldn’t find it in himself to like it. In the same way, he guesses, he can no longer find it in himself to feel anger towards Kaeya, when he has probably already forgiven him a long time ago.
The Angel’s Share is filled to the brim tonight. Diluc greets the people of Mondstadt the same way he always does, and he believes he does a very good job of not showing his head is somewhere else entirely. He supposes, at a time like this, the Cat’s Tail is a little emptier. Instead of feeling the satisfaction of a businessman managing to outdo his competition, there is the brief wonder of whether he would be able to actually enjoy a drink with Kaeya if he were there and not here.
That thought is so unbelievable dangerous Diluc makes sure to drown it with the awful-tasting wine as soon as he can.
Recently, he learned Venti began giving classes on poetry around Mondstadt. Apparently, he was hardworking enough to offer homework, and he assured the people he would correct it himself, pointing out mistakes and praising their success. As long as he wasn’t lurking around the tavern, begging Diluc for free cider or whatever it is he thought of drinking that night, it was all good for the young master. Somewhere near the counter, in one of the closest tables, Diluc hears chatter about it.
“Should there be such expectations for our poetry?” A girl asks. “I know we have to try our best, but this is a bit much.”
“Well, there are lots of important people participating,” Her friend offers, shaking her head, “What can we do? Are we supposed to be as good as Lisa or sir Kaeya?”
Diluc freezes. Lisa, participating on a poetry contest, was nothing impossible to imagine. Although she would probably become the charmer that talks people into joining instead, Diluc saw no reason why he shouldn’t believe it. Kaeya, however. . . What did he need poetry for?
“It can’t be helped,” One of the guys on the table says, sighing, “Sir Kaeya might outdo us all. He was the one who asked for these poetry lessons, after all.”
“Do you think he wants to gift someone in the Knights?”
“Are they maybe responsible for his new set of clothes?”
“Guys, hush,” The girl who spoke first hisses as she notices her friends’ tone increasing. They slowly followed her eyes to the place she was glaring at—the counter, the back of Diluc’s head. Everyone immediately understood; it was fine to gossip, but the last guys who came into the Angel’s Share to talk about sir Kaeya regretted it. Apparently, they couldn’t get along no matter how hard they tried.
Diluc is no longer listening to any of them, though. There is a knot stuck in his throat, and, no matter how much he drinks to push it down, it stays there. As if that weren’t enough, the hollow space in his chest that’s been tormenting him for weeks now begins aching as well.
He knows there is no one in the Knights responsible for Kaeya’s clothes, but he knows no such thing regarding the poetry he intends to write.
Like he’s been summoned, Kaeya’s figure shows up at the entrance of the tavern seconds later. He immediately draws several eyes to himself, even more than he usually does. His sparkling eyes, however, reach no one but Diluc as he walks up to the counter and leans forward, supporting himself on one hand.
“Good night, Master Diluc.”
“Get on with it.”
Kaeya chuckles. Diluc tries ignoring the way it makes his skin crawl. “How many bottles of the special Apple Cider do you have sitting idle in those shelves?”
Diluc rolls his eyes. “If you want a glass of cider, just say it—”
“Actually, I was thinking of something more on the ‘three bottles of cider’ territory.”
He pauses, squinting at him. “Oh. Three bottles of apple cider, is that right? Is Venti no longer brave enough to walk into the tavern and refuse to pay his tabs to my face?”
A soft laugh escapes Kaeya’s lips. He shrugs, showing off his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I suppose Master Diluc is still as intimidating as ever, including to the Archons. Besides, I owe him one, and this is my way of paying him back. If you could, please.”
That counted as a confirmation, then. Diluc clears his throat, turning around and grabbing the first two bottles he sees. When he looks further, though, he finds there are no more. He looks back at Kaeya, placing the objects over the counter, and stretches out his hands.
“I suppose you’ve drank your fill here. You know how much each of these cost.”
“Oh, are there only two?”
“Yes, there are only two, Kaeya. Unless you’d like to walk all the way to the Dawn Winery and get one more.”
Kaeya touched his own chin with two fingers, pondering. “It is late. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”
“That wasn’t. . .” Diluc begins, letting out a frustrated sigh. “That wasn’t an invitation. The Dawn Winery isn’t a playground, and you can’t roam in there whenever you’d like. At the very least, I’d have to be present.”
“It’s settled, then,” Kaeya announces, and he’s quick enough that Diluc has no time to respond before he grabs the two bottles over the counter, hurries towards the door and throws him one last look over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Master Diluc.”
When the door closed behind him, the tavern fell into temporary silence. Diluc believes the people would be waiting for him to either completely ignore Kaeya’s annoying charming manners or lash out out of irritation. He chooses to do neither.
“Look after the customers,” Diluc tells one of his employees, not quite minding which one, before grabbing his coat and exiting the tavern quickly. Somehow, the imprudence in leaving the Angel’s Share to someone else’s care twice in such a short period of time doesn’t pester him half as much as it should.
He doesn’t head for the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters; instead, he makes his way to Barbatos’ statue. Unsurprisingly, once he gets there and looks up, he finds the Archon himself, playing his lyre while sitting on the statue’s hands, humming softly to the tune he’s creating. Venti’s music may be appealing in other occasions—at the moment, Diluc cares about it very little. He doesn’t bother to announce his arrival. All he does is clear his throat and say:
“If you’d like to steal more from me, in the future, I’d suggest you do it personally.”
Venti, being an Archon and an extremely infuriating person, immediately lets out a series of giggles. “I see Kaeya is already getting on with his part of the deal. I should probably commit fully to mine, seeing that’s the case.”
“You can steal food from the Winery and not feel ashamed at all, but you’d ask someone else’s help in getting drinks from me?” Diluc crosses his arms, squinting. “What are your intentions, Venti? I don’t have time for your jokes. Mondstadt needs to be protected.”
“I would leave that duty to the Archon, if I were you,” Venti winks at him, gently putting the lyre aside and gliding down the statue in a wind current he creates himself. “Meanwhile, shouldn’t you enjoy the Festival? It’s Windblume, you know. You’re not supposed to be constantly working unless it pays off somehow.”
“What do you want?”
Venti tilts his head to the side, asking softly, “You burned him, didn’t you?”
Diluc freezes.
“Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me. I saw the scar.” Venti sighs. “Not only that, of course. I am Barbatos after all. If there something happening in Mondstadt that I don’t appear to know of, then know I am only pretending not to know.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“I thought I’d give him a reason to go and talk to you. You know, since you seem so set on not allowing him anywhere near you,” Venti chuckles, although it’s lighthearted rather than mocking. “It’s just a burn, Master Diluc. Don’t take it so seriously.”
Diluc clicks his tongue. “How many times has your vision hurt others?”
“Oh, plenty,” He declares, and, before Diluc manages to say that’s nothing what he meant, he catches the determined look in Venti’s eyes and shuts up. “Besides, you’re never going to forgive yourself for it if you’re not even able to be in the same place as him.”
“It’s not just the fact that I hurt him,” Diluc argues, and he can’t believe he’s telling Venti any of this, but he supposes that’s fitting. Of course their Archon would refuse to be around on a daily basis but immediately show up with unwanted advice the second Diluc screwed up. “You know what, never mind. If you want drinks, next time, come get them yourself.”
Venti doesn’t say anything else—however, the chuckle he lets out is suggestive enough for Diluc to have to breathe in and out in order not to go back there and shove the Archon back into the wind current he came from.
***
Unsurprisingly, the next morning, Kaeya comes knocking on Diluc’s door. Diluc, dressed for work and ready to leave on a stroll towards Mondstadt, crosses his arms and watches Kaeya’s slacking posture, the way he stands with his shoulder against the doorframe and the carefree smile on his lips. Today, he’s wearing that shirt that covers up his chest.
“You have five minutes to go in there and find the bottle,” Diluc announces, moving aside and gesturing to the inside of the Dawn Winery, “Once the time’s up, I’ll come and—”
He stops, suddenly hyperaware of his own words. Threateningly speaking to Kaeya was never an issue with him; he would tell the knight to get on with things and then proceed to affirm he would have him regret it if he didn’t all the time. Now, though, there’s a knot in his throat, unlike the one he felt the other day. This time, it feels like he doesn’t have the right to say he will hurt Kaeya as a fleeting thought, because he has actually already done it.
Kaeya isn’t stupid—in fact, he’s one of the smartest people in Mondstadt. Obviously, he notices the way Diluc trails off, yet he refuses to mention it and instead flashes him a smile before walking into the Winery and beginning his search, confident as if he owned the place. Somehow, Diluc’s brows furrow at the thought that, if things had gone differently many years ago, he might.
Diluc sighs, pressing two fingers against his temple, looking around him. The weather is nice today, and it tends to be like that especially in the morning. The people of Mondstadt might already be out of their homes, celebrating another successful and peaceful day of the Windblume Festival. Young Master Diluc, on the other hand, has kicked off the celebrations with a splitting headache.
The thing is, Venti might have had a point when he tried finding a way for Diluc to be around Kaeya longer. Ever since he was a child, Diluc wasn’t used to being a coward, to shying away from things, and yet that’s all he’s been doing for weeks now. The headache isn’t Kaeya’s fault—it’s Diluc’s. He’s well-aware of that. He simply has no idea how to make it go away.
Unexpectedly, four minutes later, Kaeya emerges with the bottle that’s left for him to bring Venti. He has one of those usual, lazy smiles on his lips. Diluc thinks that might be the reason—the trigger, as per say—for him to suddenly step forward when he sees Kaeya beginning to walk away. Kaeya catches the movement, but, before he can tease him about it, Diluc asks:
“You’re headed to Mondstadt, are you not?”
Kaeya blinks. “Yes.”
“I have to come as well. Wait.”
Kaeya obliges, even less agitatedly than Diluc would have predicted him. Whether Kaeya is also wondering what suddenly got into him or not, he makes no remarks on it, and Diluc is only half-grateful for it. He closes the door to the Dawn Winery, waving at one of the employees sweeping leaves from the porch, and begins walking towards Mondstadt with Kaeya falling into step beside him.
There is something he wants to ask; he realizes not even a minute later. He clears his throat, and Kaeya’s infuriatingly well-shaped brows raise at the sound, awaiting.
“Did the wound open?”
Kaeya blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
“Your clothes, Kaeya. Did the wound open?”
It was obvious Kaeya had heard and comprehended him the first time. He simply didn’t expect the question.
“It didn’t. I thought it looked better like this, is all,” Kaeya explains, and Diluc knows it’s bullshit, but he refrains from voicing that opinion. Kaeya’s smile widens a little, although not enough to reach his diamond-shaped eyes. “I know the Knights of Favonius have to patrol especially hard during the Festival, but why are you up so early?”
Diluc decides, for once, to actually indulge in Kaeya’s provocation rather than cut him off. “Because, if I leave Mondstadt’s protection to the Knights, I will consider myself negligent.”
That earned him a chuckle. “Do you actually think we’re not perfectly capable of protecting our citizens?”
“That’s precisely what I think.”
“I’ll have you know; we are all very capable. Especially the Captains,” Kaeya sing-songs, “If you don’t believe me, I can show you my skills. I’ve brought my sword with me.”
Before Diluc has a chance to feel bothered by the idea of another fight with Kaeya, he catches the way the Knight’s lips quirk up in a charming smirk, his lifted right brow, and his relaxed posture. If he didn’t know any better—which he does, he definitely does—he would say that’s Kaeya’s signature look for when he’s flirting.
His eyes might not deceive him, but his mind plays enough tricks for Diluc not to trust that impression for a second.
“Enough showing off,” He forces himself to say, “Shouldn’t you hurry? The patrols must have already started.”
“Oh, but I thought I’d be keeping Master Diluc company? Walking with you all the way to the Angel’s Share?”
Diluc sends a threatening glare his way, but Kaeya’s only reaction is to laugh and shrug him off with a quick wave of his hand. He complies and begins walking faster, leaving Diluc behind, trying his best not to reach out and pull him back.
***
“What would you say is the most important flower being celebrated in the Windblume Festival?”
Diluc looks above his shoulders, meeting Lumine’s curious eyes for a second and trying his best not to sigh in frustration. It seems, although the festivities were made for people to relax and enjoy the atmosphere around them, there are little to no people willing to allow Diluc that same peace of mind.
“Everyone seems to have a different opinion,” Paimon chimes in, pointing her finger as she always does while talking, “Cecilias, Whindwheel Asters, Dandelions. . .”
“Maybe there’s more than just one,” The Traveler suggests, clearly entertained in her conversation with Paimon. They have been traveling together for a while now, as far as Diluc is aware, and it seems the constant pestering done to them by citizens made them used to the thought of also pestering others. “So? Master Diluc?”
He sighs. This is nothing he hasn’t heard of before—the people of Mondstadt tend to believe there is a single special flower that can be considered Windblume itself. He has never, however, engaged on those guessing games, simply because it’s worthless to. If the Archon himself can’t say which of them is the correct one, no one can.
It seems, however, there is a point to replying to Lumine’s question, considering she won’t go away any easier in case he refuses to. Therefore, he gives a brief thought. When thinking about each flower especially known to bloom in Mondstadt, there is a single one that comes to mind as the most agreeable one.
“Calla Lilies.”
“Oh, yes!” Paimon exclaims, “There are Calla Lilies, too!”
“Small Lamp Grass is also a great option,” The Traveler points out, “When we asked Kaeya, that’s what he said.”
There it was. The impossibility of someone speaking to Diluc without mentioning Kaeya at some point during the conversation. It begins feeling like it’s done on purpose—like they’ve all figured out the mess he’s been digging himself into lately, and they are all there to help him dig deeper.
One more time, as if he has been summoned, Kaeya walks through the tavern’s door and greets them with a cheerful expression. Lumine doesn’t seem at all impressed, and Diluc guesses, in the midst of helping out the Knights of Favonius, she might have found herself running into Kaeya quite often during the Festival.
“What do you want?” Diluc asks, crossing his arms. He doesn’t fail to notice the cleavage in Kaeya’s clothes is bigger, and then he doesn’t fail to reprimand himself for noticing that every single time.
Kaeya chuckles, like the thought of Diluc not being in the mood for him is entertaining. “I was actually looking for the Traveler. If you wouldn’t mind—”
“Let me guess,” Lumine cuts in, and Paimon crosses her arms beside her, frowning hard, as a show of support, “You need me to run more errands. Is that right? Did I get that right?”
An awkward smile shows on Kaeya’s face. “If you truly think about it, it is only a show of the Knights’ trust in our honored Honorary Knight. If there was anyone else we thought was this trustworthy, we would definitely also go to them—however, there is no one quite like you.”
“I can see why you’re so annoyed around him sometimes,” Lumine tells Diluc, getting up from her seat and sighing deeply, “Fine, I’ll go. What about your homework? How is it going?”
“Let’s just say I’m convinced it won’t work at all,” He scratches the back of his neck, “Maybe poetry isn’t my ideal type of communication.”
“Poetry?” Diluc asks, frowning, before he can stop himself. Although it doesn’t seem like Kaeya was waiting for him to ask, he happily says:
“Yes. I took Venti’s class. It seems, however, my poem wasn’t ideal.”
Diluc wants to say that isn’t a surprise, but he wouldn’t actually know, considering his own talent for such things isn’t excellent. Lumine leans back, laughing a little.
“You never told us whom it was for, though.”
There is a pause, in which Diluc thinks Lumine might have finally asked a question Kaeya isn’t willing to answer. However, a few seconds later, he becomes startled at the realization that Kaeya’s eyes have turned to him, and he’s watching him attentively. Unlike his usual self, Diluc isn’t able to say anything, not even a dismissive comment, because he isn’t sure to believe whether that looks means what it means.
“Let’s just say,” Kaeya drawls, “Someone I cherish a lot.”
***
Without thinking, later that night, Diluc requests that one of the Knights tells Kaeya he is expected at the Dawn Winery.
Diluc expects Kaeya to show up at the Winery in the morning, similarly to the last time he was half-invited there. He finishes checking on everyone at night, closing the blinds in every window, taking one last moment to look up and appreciate the moon for a second. He understands the next day will be a tough one, especially if he plans on facing his feelings any better than he currently is. He convinces himself, though, that there are enough hours left for him to prepare.
That explains his startled expression the second he looks down and notices Kaeya, steadfast step and firm posture, walking up to the Dawn Winery’s doors.
“If I didn’t know Barbatos any better,” Diluc murmurs between his teeth, slowly moving down the stairs and closing his hands into fists, “I’d ask him to strike me down right now.”
He opens the door, only to find Kaeya staring at his feet, one hand hovering near the now-empty space where the wood was before, evidently pondering whether he should knock or not. At the sudden movement before him, Kaeya lifts his eyes, widening them a little.
“It’s awfully late,” Diluc comments. It lacks bite, and Kaeya can tell, so he seems to force a smile at him.
“My last shift for the patrol just ended. I thought I’d drop by.”
Nodding slightly, Diluc moves to the side and allows Kaeya in. He closes the door and begins accompanying Kaeya to the large table on the center of the Winery. While Diluc pulls a chair and finds a seat, he realizes Kaeya stopped halfway there, suddenly blinking while glaring at a particular spot in the environment. Diluc frowns, slowly following his eyes, and finding that he’s fixated on the vase over the smaller wooden table he keeps in the room.
Diluc clears his throat. “What, did you fail to see that the last time you walked in here?”
“I only gave you that. . .” Kaeya trails off, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. Diluc can easily guess a few of the excuses he might come up with. I only gave you that in order to return your vision that one time. I only gave you that as a joke. I only gave you that, but I did not intend for you to keep it. Regardless of the things he can come up with, none of them can surprise Diluc, especially because he has also thought each of them plenty of time ago.
“Did you know, a few days after you started dressing differently, Lisa saw the burn?”
Kaeya’s slightly confused expression dissolves. He doesn’t sit—instead, he supports one hand on the back of one of the stairs, leaning to the side a little. “Yes. Lisa has too many liberties in the Headquarters. It’s not like anyone’s brave enough to tell her she should perhaps tone it down—”
“Jean also knows it was me. And Venti. And, unless she’s not as smart as we think she is, Lumine. Therefore, also Paimon.”
Kaeya crosses his arms. “What’s your point, Diluc?”
Diluc. Not Master Diluc, but his first name, said simply and directly. It’s been quite a while since the last time he heard that tone coming from Kaeya.
“It was worthless to hide it, and yet you did. You could have either told them it was Master Diluc of the Dawn Winery or the Darknight, yet you refused. You might say it would make you look weak, but it would have been the opposite, because it wasn’t a fair fight when I lashed out at you.”
“Diluc—”
“I told you to tell them the truth, and you still refused,” Diluc punctuates every word, squinting hard, “Because you wanted to protect me.”
Kaeya’s open lips become shut, and his relaxed posture shifts into one of discomfort. He shrugs. “You don’t have to sound so repulsed by the idea of me trying to protect you.”
“Repulsed?” Diluc gets up from his chair, suddenly unable to believe he heard those words coming from Kaeya’s mouth. “That’s what you think. Is that why you’ve been acting like nothing happened? Did you expect I would forget all about and not ask you anything anymore, considering how repulsed I felt?”
“Well, was I wrong? Not only that, but why should you have to be the bad guy when I provoked you that night?”
Diluc squints. “You have to stop convincing yourself it was your fault. You’re not some kind of savior.”
“I know that, don’t I?” Kaeya strikes back, a little too aggressively. They both notice it, but neither chooses to address the fact. “Yet that was all you’ve done the last few weeks, because you think of yourself as a savior just as much as you think I do. You don’t have to feel guilty you hurt someone who had it coming a long time ago.”
“Shut up, Kaeya.”
There is a pause, and Kaeya blinks as he takes in Diluc’s furious tone. He mistakes it, however, with anger directed towards himself, and lets out a frustrated sigh. “It’s ancient history now. It’s healed, and it’s the least I could—”
He gets cut in, not by words, but by Diluc’s next actions. He suddenly abandons his spot across from Kaeya, getting into his personal space amazingly fast. For a second, Kaeya seems to think Diluc might be considering a new fight, but, seeing he has never once been scared of Diluc, he doesn’t even flinch.
There is no fight, though. Diluc doesn’t even touch him. All he does is stand before him, too close for comfort, for long enough for Kaeya to have to either clear his throat or avert his gaze. He chooses the first.
“Would you like to know why I attacked you that night?” Diluc asks. Slowly, Kaeya gestures for him to speak. “You said I was nicer to you when we were family. Do you recall that? You meant I was nicer to you when I thought of you as my brother. Isn’t that right?”
Kaeya squints, like he understands a certain direction Diluc is trying to go to with this. Diluc is sure he doesn’t.
“You were never my brother, Kaeya.”
The Knight begins a dismissive gesture with his hand, a bitter smile on his lips, “I’m well-aware—”
“No,” Diluc takes Kaeya’s wrist between his fingers, startling him, “You’re not. Because you think I meant I was never that close to you. You don’t understand, Kaeya, you never did. You were my best friend, and then you were the person who let me down the most in the world, and then you. . . You seem to completely miss the fact that you became something else entirely. And that is your fault as much as it is mine.”
The Dawn Winery becomes so silent one could even hear a pin drop, the atmosphere filled with tension and something else. Kaeya’s diamond-shaped pupils stare into Diluc’s soul, and he feels himself trembling with the realization of his own feelings, coming crashing down on him all at once.
“I shouldn’t have lashed out. You had no blame in that. I did. The next time you think of protecting me from myself, don’t. Because I deserve everything people might say about me, especially if they say I’m a coward.”
Slowly, Kaeya registers the meaning in each of Diluc’s words. He doesn’t seem to process it easily, though. He shakes his head, and, when he speaks, his voice sounds so broken Diluc wishes he would never have to hear him speak like that again. “That was never what I truly meant when I called you my family, Diluc. You’re just. . . all I have.”
Diluc’s breath hitches. His voice lowers several octaves when he asks, “Were you telling the truth, about the poem?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Kaeya’s eyes flicker. “Because it seems I am fully incapable of expressing my feelings any other way. Unfortunately, I was not expecting that incapability to also stretch to poetry.”
If Diluc were to tell the truth, he would say he isn’t great at expressing his feelings either. He used to be, back when he was a child and had no concerns in the world whatsoever. Those ages are gone now, though, and, unless he wants to feel guilty for the rest of his days, he needs to find a new way.
Without thinking, he threads his fingers through Kaeya’s soft, blue locks and crashes their lips together.
If it’s forgiveness you seek, he thinks, curling his fingers, then it was already yours a long time ago. As was I.
There is a sudden crash in his mind, in which he realizes he might have overstepped, but, before he can pull away, Kaeya grabs the collar of his coat and lures him back in. Unlike him, Kaeya clearly knows what he’s doing, and he slips his free hand along the column of Diluc’s neck, tilting his head to the side and deepening the kiss.
In a split second, while feeling his chest filled with warmth and the weight he has been bearing for weeks finally leaving his shoulders, Diluc wonders for how long he could have had this if he were not so stubborn.
When their lips part, Diluc faintly registers the smile dancing on Kaeya’s lips.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Well, you can do that yourself, Master Diluc.”
Diluc does.
***
“Did you hear? It was Master Diluc.”
“What was Master Diluc?”
“The reason behind Captain Kaeya suddenly wearing non-revealing clothes. You know, everyone was talking about it a few weeks ago.”
Diluc clicks his tongue, and it’s loud enough for the crowds strolling past the streets of Mondstadt to dissipate. Kaeya, walking beside him with a cheerful expression and a handful of Diluc’s intertwined fingers, lets out a bright chuckle at it. When Diluc looks back at him, there is a faint flush in his cheeks, and Kaeya seems to find it even more entertaining.
“None of this would be happening right now. . .” Diluc drawls, inhaling, “If you had just told the truth.”
“Why,” Kaeya asks, smile widening, “Does it not please you that they think I’m hiding your love marks?”
Two nights ago, Kaeya emerged from the Dawn Winery in the morning, and one of the shop owners of Mondstadt happened to witness the scene. It didn’t help, of course, that Diluc came out right after him, held him in place by the shoulders and pressed a kiss on his lips, not before having his cheeks tainted a heavy shade of pink.
From that moment on, the rumors took a turn—instead of guessing which lucky girl or guy had managed to force the Captain into hiding his skin, they began chattering about how Master Diluc managed to snatch sir Kaeya considering their well-known rivalry. It also seemed people were more frightened of Diluc when they thought he hated Kaeya; now that they knew otherwise, their fear had decreased greatly, and the young master would instead be met with chuckles and whispers while walking across the city.
“One thing you should know,” Kaeya comments, the genuine lighthearted tone he keeps on finally back after so long, “The bartender at the Cat’s Tail isn’t my greatest fan.”
Diluc clicks his tongue. When he agreed to going out with Kaeya, he wasn’t thinking. Ever since that night, he hasn’t been thinking, he has just been. . . acting. He supposes that could easily be called the Kaeya effect.
“The bartender at the Angel’s Share isn’t your greatest fan either,” Diluc states, “Yet you linger around the tavern constantly.”
“Oh?” Kaeya stops in his tracks, and Diluc knows, in his gut, he is about to regret his own words. His arm is tugged, and he finds himself turning to look Kaeya in the eyes. There is no longer a single hint of hesitance in them—instead, they’re shinning with interest, teasing and something else. “Did you not know? The bartender at the Angel’s Share simply hides his feelings. In fact, he—”
“Shut up.”
“Fancies me very much, and—”
“Kaeya.”
“He would be willing to hold my hand and—”
Convinced of how worthless words are to effectively quit Kaeya’s provocations, Diluc holds his chin between two fingers and catches Kaeya’s lips in a quick peck. He pulls away as fast as he leaned in, and the way Kaeya’s eyes widen at the thought of Diluc initiating a kiss in public is even more satisfying than the fact that it was enough to silence him.
“Are you done?”
Kaeya smirks, nodding, “Yes, Master Diluc.”
“I will leave you here and go back home, sir Kaeya.”
A wholehearted laugh escapes Kaeya’s lips, and he chases after Diluc’s wrist, wrapping his fingers around it lightly. There is a smile spreading through his entire face, and Diluc has to resist the sudden urge to smile back at him. “Wait, no. Stay here with me.”
Diluc sighs, but there’s warmth in his chest.
“I will.”