Work Text:
Kaeya prefers to keep his birthday quiet. To celebrate with a few close friends, if he celebrates at all. Despite the airs he puts on, and his seemingly extroverted personality, Kaeya is, in actuality, a very private person. Moreover, birthdays are . . . well, after the atrocity that was Diluc’s eighteenth birthday, his own has sort of been soured for Kaeya too. It kind of feels like he doesn’t have the right to enjoy his after . . . everything.
That said, that doesn’t mean he wants to be miserable on his birthday . . . but when he wakes up and the world tilts beneath him the moment he steps out of bed, and he ends up spilled on the floor . . . well.
Kaeya doesn’t get sick often, but when he does . . . it’s very not fun.
“Figures this would happen today,” he mutters to himself, before rallying enough strength to crawl back into bed. Suddenly he’s aware of how dry his mouth is . . . and how cold his house feels. Which makes sense, beings that it’s the end of November, and he hasn’t switched over to his winter blankets, or started lighting fires in his hearth yet. His Vision has hardened him against the cold, so it usually doesn’t bother him much. Since it does now, and he hasn’t heard anything about unseasonably cold weather striking this week, it’s safe to say he’s probably got a fever.
No matter, or so Kaeya tells himself, as he pulls his summer sheet up to his chin and rolls into it, so it’s wrapped around him, insulating what body heat he has to insulate – which should actually be more than usual, on account of his fever. Either way, this . . . is actually one of the better days he could get sick on, all things considered. He has a few days off work, courtesy of Jean. He knows she was hoping he would use them for something fun or relaxing. Varka would always gave him a few consecutive days off every year, starting on his birthday, and Jean’s continued the tradition since she took over. It’s convenient now. It means he doesn’t have to worry about going into headquarters or arranging to take sick days. He can just use the time she gave him to sleep and recover.
Well, at least now I officially have plans for my birthday, Kaeya thinks and closes his eye. Within minutes, he’s fallen back into a feverish sleep.
Mid-morning is always slow at Angel’s Share. Even in the City of Freedom, most people do have to work for their living, so as much as they’d like to take a liquid breakfast in a tavern . . . well, they usually can’t, with few exceptions.
Diluc knows full well what day it is. Which is not why he’s here, in the tavern early. Really, it’s not. Kaeya hasn’t once come into Angel’s Share on his birthday. Not since he came of age, well after their fallout. (Diluc may have asked his staff to confirm this his first year back, but only for logistical purposes. If his estranged brother was bringing a whole herd of knights in for his birthday, Diluc wanted prior warning.)
Still, he’s at the tavern, tending the bar on November 30th, as he has every year since his return to Mondstadt, for reasons he doesn’t have to explain to anyone, not even himself. It’s quiet enough that he can take note of every customer who enters, at least for now. When a young woman he doesn’t recognize enters, about half an hour before he’s expecting the lunch crowd to start arriving, he doesn’t have reason to think anything’s amiss, even when she comes and takes a seat at the bar.
“What’ll it be?” Diluc asks her, poised to grab either a stein or glass, depending on her answer.
“I’m actually here to sell rather than buy,” the woman says. “I’ve a bit of intel you might be interested in.”
Diluc looks at her with different eyes now. “Is that so?” he asks, still polite, but with just the slightest edge to his voice.
“Quite so. Usually, I don’t sell information about a certain Cavalry Captain, beings that he’s my best client but . . . well. Today’s a bit of a special day, isn’t it?”
Diluc sighs. Of course, this has something to do with Kaeya. “How much?”
“One Death After Noon, please.” The woman phrases her price as though it’s a drink order.
“Death After Noon’s out of season,” Diluc says with a scowl.
“Oh, is it?” the woman asks knowingly.
Diluc sighs again, and retrieves the bottles of sparkling wine and dandelion wine from beneath the counter, pulling off his handwritten labels warning his bar tenders not to use them. He quickly, and discreetly, mixes the cocktail, but serves it in a stein rather than a glass, as is traditional.
“Smart,” the informant says. “Don’t want everyone to know you’re hoarding the good stuff, after all.”
Diluc moves the stein when she goes to reach for it. “Your payment, ma’am?”
She gives him a smile that’s a little too much like Kaeya’s for Diluc’s liking. “Of course. Say, did you know that the Cavalry Captain has taken up botany as a hobby?”
Diluc gives her a very dry look. “Botany.”
“Or whatever it’s called when you keep houseplants,” says the informant. “Actually, he only keeps certain ones. Useful ones, he says, for his fermentation experiments. Rumor has it he knows a thing or two about brewing. Who would have thought?”
Diluc continues staring at her, because he did not just give this girl a free drink from his reserve stash to learn that Kaeya’s developed an interest in houseplants.
She smirks. “He takes good care of his plants too, you know. You can see them from every window of his apartment. Lots of lush foliage and healthy blooms. He makes his own fertilizers for them too. Different fertilizers for different plants, actually. Coffee grounds are the base for one. For another he uses fish heads and bones that he sources from Klee.”
“I assume there’s a point in here somewhere.”
“He even rotates which windows they’re in throughout the year, doing his best to make sure they all get the proper amount of light. He opens his shutters every day, first thing . . . except the days when he’s too sick to get out of bed.” She gives Diluc a very meaningful look.
Oh.
“And today?” Diluc asks.
“They’re closed. A shame, isn’t it? Today of all days . . .”
Diluc doesn’t answer . . . and the woman doesn’t say any more. She finishes her drink in silence, then leaves, but somehow, that’s annoying too. She actually rather reminds Diluc of Kaeya. He has absolutely no problem believing that she’s one of his underlings.
Once she’s gone, Diluc puts aside the rag he was using to polish glasses. It’s still early enough that it’s not busy yet, so he has no reservations about pulling Patton in to tend the bar. He can handle the lunch crowd, and Charles will be in before it gets busy this evening. As for what Diluc is doing . . . he doesn’t put too much thought into it. Or so he tells himself. Yet somehow, he finds himself stopping at Mondstadt General Goods for ingredients before making his way to Kaeya’s apartment.
His door is locked, as expected. No key left carelessly on top of the doorframe, or under the welcome mat – no welcome mat to speak of actually. Though if one had been there, Diluc doubts it would have done him any good. Kaeya is the sort to have a deadbolt too. So, Diluc enters through the window. It’s a bit tricky – the latch Kaeya installed was made to keep out the sort of people who know how to jimmy open locked windows, but Diluc learned a few tricks abroad.
It’s dark inside Kaeya’s apartment, as expected with all the other shutters still closed. Diluc opens another set on his way to what he assumes is Kaeya’s bedroom. He hasn’t actually been here before, but his apartment isn’t very big. There are only two doors, and one of them is open, showing that it leads to the bathroom. When he reaches the door that must be to Kaeya’s bedroom, he pauses and knocks, so as not to walk into a barrage of sharp, falling cryo spikes, or sword plunging toward his throat.
“Kaeya? You in there?”
There’s no response.
“Kaeya . . . I’m coming in.” Then, and only then, does Diluc enter, and he still does so with a healthy amount of wariness.
He quickly realizes that he needn’t have worried – at least not about Kaeya attacking him. Because Kaeya’s curled up in his bed . . . in a sheet and only a sheet, Diluc realizes with a frown. He knows cryo Vision wielders are stubborn about admitting they feel the effects of cold weather, so he’s really not surprised, but . . .
Diluc sighs and takes a step into the room. “Kaeya?”
Perhaps it’s hearing noise coming from within his room that gets through to him, but Kaeya jerks awake and bolts up, struggling to free himself from his sheet. The temperature in the room snaps even colder, and Diluc realizes that he’s about two seconds away from having to dodge a cryo attack.
“Kaeya, it’s me,” he says sternly, but calmly.
“D-Diluc?” Kaeya stares at him feverishly, then yelps and slaps a hand over his right eye and starts reaching blindly around his bedpost for one of the eyepatches he keeps hanging above him.
“You’re wearing your eyepatch, Kaeya,” Diluc tells him, and can’t help but feel a surge of amusement as Kaeya freezes on the spot.
“Oh,” says Kaeya. Then he slumps against his headboard, undignified and exhausted. Then he looks up at Diluc miserably. “I’m sick. You shouldn’t be here . . . why are you here?”
“Because . . .”
Because he heard Kaeya was sick.
Because he didn’t want him to be alone and miserable on his birthday.
Because despite everything, he still cares about his brother.
Kaeya waits patiently for him to finish.
“Just because,” Diluc says finally.
“Oh . . . . kay.” Kaeya exhales, then tries to sit up a bit straighter. He still looks confused, and strangely unguarded . . . meaning he must be feeling really, really sick.
“Where do you keep your winter blankets?” Diluc asks him. “You do have some, don’t you?”
“Um. Yes. In my closet . . .”
Diluc goes to the wardrobe and opens it. On the shelf at the top are some bulky cloth bags, too large to contain anything very heavy and still have been hauled up there without splitting open, so it’s moon pies to mora those are what Diluc’s looking for. He grabs hold of one and pulls it down, then looks inside. Success. Not only are there two warm-looking woolen blankets inside, but a set of Kaeya’s winter sleepwear as well. Diluc carries the bag over and upends it on Kaeya’s bed. He hands his brother the long-sleeved nightshirt – no longer so neatly folded – and the matching pajama pants that went with it, then begins spreading the heavy blankets out over top of the bed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Diluc goes back to the closet once he’s finished and drags down the other bag. Inside he finds more blankets and a heavier jacket than the one Kaeya usually wears. Diluc leaves the blankets in the bag, but moves them closer to Kaeya’s bed, so they’re easier to get to if Kaeya decides he needs them and Diluc’s not around. He hangs his jacket from one of the bed posts. “Get back under your covers. I’m going to light a fire in your hearth.”
He doesn’t wait to see if Kaeya obeys or not, but from the rustle of blankets behind him, that he’s pretty sure his brother chose to listen.
Kaeya has clearly not lit any fires yet this autumn. Diluc can tell by how clean his fireplace is – untouched since he cleaned it out last spring, it seems. Despite this, he does have stores of firewood neatly stacked a safe distance away. Diluc helps himself to it, and in no time, has a nice blaze going. He returns to Kaeya’s room then, to report this . . . where he finds his brother has fallen back to sleep. Under two warm blankets this time, at least.
Diluc leaves his brother’s bedroom then. There’s nothing more he can do for him there, at least not right now. The groceries he picked up are still near the window, where he set them down, in case he needed both hands free to defend himself if Kaeya thought his apartment needed defending. Diluc retrieves them and takes them into the kitchen area. Kaeya keeps things organized in a rather straightforward way, so Diluc has no trouble finding a cutting board, a knife, a pot, and a spoon large enough to stir soup as it’s cooking. Once all the equipment he needs is assembled, he gets to work.
Kaeya’s better at cooking than Diluc is, and always has been, but Diluc’s never exactly been helpless in the kitchen. Crepus made sure Diluc was taught to fend for himself if ever he had to, and while Diluc’s culinary repertoire is mostly simple things like grilled meat, sandwiches, salads, and soups, he makes them well enough that he didn’t starve the three years he was away and had to feed himself. Before long, he has a nice soup going. He turns down the heat and covers it so that it can simmer for a while, then looks around to see what else he can do. As long as he’s here, he might as well stay busy.
He opens the rest of Kaeya’s windows, or at least the ones that aren’t in his bedroom, to let the light in. Because Kaeya’s informant was right, each one does have several potted plants in front of it. He considers watering them, but remembers hearing Adelinde once scolding a new maid for overwatering some flowers that had been potted up and taken inside to overwinter. Overwatering, she’d said, is worse than not watering at all, especially in the winter. So, Diluc leaves the plants alone, other than to make sure they’ve gotten enough light.
After that . . . there’s really not too much to do. Kaeya keeps his place quite neat and clean. There’s no housework left undone. Not even so much as an unclean dish left in the sink. So, after walking around the room for a few moments, looking for something that needs his attention, then checking on Kaeya, who’s still asleep, Diluc selects a book from Kaeya’s bookcase and sits down to read.
When Kaeya wakes . . . he’s confused. He could have sworn that the last time he woke up it was because Diluc entered his bedroom. Under other circumstances, he would have dismissed that as a weird dream brought on by his fever . . . but the blankets he remembers Diluc hauling down from the closet are spread over top of him, on his bed, and Kaeya is wearing the pajamas that he packed away after washing them last spring.
He still feels pretty rotten and is fairly certain that his fever hasn’t gone anywhere . . . but he does feel warmer now, and doesn’t think it’s just because of his blankets. More than that, there’s a scent drifting into his room, through the open door. He recognizes the fragrance of cooking vegetables but can’t quite tell which ones.
Getting out of bed is hard, but this time he manages not to end up on the floor. Putting one foot in front of the other and dragging himself out of his bedroom is harder still, but Kaeya needs to know what’s going on. Why is Diluc of all people here, today of all days? He should be the first one in line to wish Kaeya the worst birthday karma can deliver.
Except . . . if he’s honest with himself, and Kaeya generally is . . . he knows that’s not Diluc. Diluc may like to act as though simply breathing the same air as him is a burden, and it is, admittedly, much harder to talk to him than it once was, but Diluc hasn’t actually been able to kill the part of himself that cares about Kaeya. All Kaeya has to do is hint at wanting some unsavory murderer who he, personally, can’t touch dead, and Diluc will go out and end the bastard for him. Kaeya needs a scapegoat with a Delusion to arrest and frame, because he wants the real guilty party to go free? Big Brother Diluc is suddenly gung ho to get in on the plan. Windblume’s extra work forces Kaeya to choose between drinking at Angel’s Share or going out to eat someplace that sells food? Suddenly Angel’s Share is giving away complimentary chicken and mushroom skewers with every drink.
So . . . of course Diluc’s here, on his birthday, when he’s sick as a dog, and maybe he doesn’t strictly need help . . . but Diluc’s still here, making his life easier.
“Diluc?” Kaeya asks, so as not to startle his brother, because even though he’s sick, he still moves pretty quietly.
Diluc immediately puts the book he’s reading aside. “Kaeya. Feel any better?”
“I’m warmer,” Kaeya tells him. The best thing he can honestly say. He manages to make it to the table without collapsing.
“Well, that’s something.”
Then Diluc takes off his glove and reaches across the table. Kaeya cringes back before he can touch his forehead.
“Don’t. I don’t want you catching whatever I have.”
“I have a pyro Vision. I rarely get sick.”
“And I rarely get cold. Until I do,” Kaeya returns, but Diluc reaches out to press the back of his palm against Kaeya’s forehead anyway. “Do you even know what you’re doing? Have you ever checked someone’s fever before?”
“No, but I’m familiar with the concept,” Diluc says stubbornly. “I think you do have a fever, but I don’t think it’s dangerously high.”
Kaeya could have told him that . . . but he doesn’t. He’s too tired for a fight right now. All he wants to do is go back to sleep. Which makes coming out here quite counterproductive . . . but yeah. He had to know what was going on. If Diluc really was here.
His brother stands as Kaeya settles into his chair. He watches as Diluc heads into the kitchen area, to where a pot of what’s most likely soup or stew is heating on one of the burners. Diluc takes the lid off, and the smell of cooked vegetables and herbs intensifies. Kaeya . . . is actually not hungry at all, but when Diluc fills a bowl then puts it down right in front of him, what else can he do, but say, “Thank you,” and pick up his spoon?
“You’re welcome.”
It’s not bad soup. Kaeya actually thinks that it might be very good soup . . . but forcing himself to eat when he’s sick and not hungry is always a chore.
“Not the birthday meal you wanted, perhaps, but it’s probably what’s best for you right now.”
“I appreciate it,” Kaeya says, and tries to make it sound sincere, because he’s actually not lying. This is far more than he deserves, especially from Diluc.
He dutifully begins working his way through the bowl of soup. Diluc watches him for a moment, then picks up the book he’d been reading. One from Kaeya’s collection, Kaeya realizes. Not that he minds. Diluc must have been bored just waiting around here.
“I have other books by that author, if you want to borrow them,” he offers, when the silence becomes too stifling.
“Hmm . . . perhaps.”
Kaeya almost smiles. Because these days, that’s the equivalent of a glowing review for the book Diluc has in hand. His brother has changed a lot since his eighteenth birthday, but he still loves adventure stories.
He returns to his soup . . . but with no appetite, begins lagging as he nears the bottom of the bowl. Diluc, trying to be helpful, actually reaches over to reheat it for him, perhaps thinking that its cooling temperature is the problem. Kaeya thanks him, and manages to force the rest of it down. Then he sits there awkwardly for a minute, not sure what to do next. He finds his vision keeps drifting down to the tabletop or the floor . . . thanks to his eye drooping from exhaustion.
“Do you want to go back to bed?” Diluc asks finally. “Or lay down on the couch for a while?”
“The couch,” Kaeya says, after a moment of deliberation. His bedroom seems so far away right now . . . and Diluc’s here, so Kaeya should at least try not to sleep his whole visit away, even if he did break in.
He makes it to the couch unaided, though Diluc walks close in case he takes a nosedive. Then Diluc disappears for a moment and returns from Kaeya’s bedroom, having pulled down the rest of Kaeya’s winter blankets from storage. He opens the bulky cloth bag and pulls out a faded crimson blanket. Kaeya looks away, knowing full well that his brother can’t fail to recognize that blanket, or at least that he knows full well where it’s from. Dawn Winery uses them in all the winery’s bedrooms, guest rooms, and on the couches in the main parlor. They order a few new ones of the same design every year, to replace any that have grown too worn. The one Kaeya has now would doubtlessly have been destined for their donation boxes years ago, had he not held fast to it. It’s . . . the same one the Ragnvindrs, both Crepus and Diluc, bundled him up in when they took him in from that storm. They told him he could keep it . . . and keep it Kaeya did.
Diluc doesn’t comment on it, however. Merely tosses it to Kaeya, then pulls out another blanket in the bag and drapes it over him.
“Thank you.”
“It’s fine.”
Diluc pulls out the last blanket and keeps it folded, but rests it over the back of a nearby chair in case it’s needed. He folds the bag back up and sets it on the arm of the couch, so it’s out of the way for now, then goes and stokes the fire. Kaeya watches him, feeling uneasy without quite knowing why, because . . . well, he loves his brother . . . and he trusts him. He knows that Diluc, at least, would never come into his home for any nefarious purposes. Perhaps it’s just that with their history . . . with what Kaeya’s done . . . he just can’t feel ill at ease around him anymore.
“Anything I can bring you?” Diluc asks, once he finishes with the fire.
“No, thank you.”
Diluc nods then, retrieves the book he’d been reading from the table, and sits down in the chair near the couch and the hearth, to return to it.
“You . . . don’t have to stay if . . . I know you have better things to do than just babysit me,” Kaeya says, trying to choose words that won’t sound ungrateful or like he wants Diluc gone. “I’ll be okay here alone.”
“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Diluc tells him. “Not on your birthday.”
“I . . .” Kaeya can’t think of anything to say. An apology is on his lips, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it. Telling someone you’re sorry for infiltrating their home, lying to them for years, and eventually disillusioning them on the night that their life fell apart, on their birthday no less just seems . . . yeah.
“It’s alright if you want to sleep some more,” Diluc tells him.
“ . . . Thank you.”
Kaeya doesn’t ask if Diluc will still be around when he wakes up. He doesn’t have to.
Diluc sticks around for a few days, until Kaeya’s mostly well again. Even after that, he checks in for a couple more days, only stopping after Kaeya shows up at Angel’s share with friends one night for drinks, signifying that he has fully recovered from his illness. After that, things mostly go back to normal . . . but like after other notable incidents where their paths crossed, like after the Black Fire incident, the Darknight Hero shenanigans, and their trip to the Golden Apple Archipelago, things between them get a little less frosty yet again. Small steps, Kaeya thinks, but it gives him hope, and all in all . . . despite being sick, this past birthday wasn’t a bad one by any means, all things considered.