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Diluc doesn’t know what got him into this mess. Rosaria and Kaeya had everything planned out for days: there would be a Christmas Eve party, Albedo would tuck Klee in bed before midnight, and everyone wakes her up when Santa arrives. It’s a simple, foolproof plan except they had all neglected to tell Diluc he was the star of the show just hours before it began.
“We all agreed you would be Santa.” Rosaria had said, deadpan, fists on his desk at the winery.
“Please just wear it for five minutes.” Kaeya had begged, full conviction in his voice.
Five minutes, my ass.
He’s been freezing for nearly an hour while Kaeya and the rest sip on hot chocolate and chatter about their day. The only reason he hasn’t jumped down and walked home is because this is for Klee, and—
“You’re still up here?”
The attic door opens slightly, wide enough so he can see your head peak in, your little giggles warm the cold, empty space all the way to where he sat.
“Yeah.”
Diluc balls his hands into fists and rests them at his side. He doesn’t understand why he’s pretending to tough out the cold with you here.
“I thought they’d moved you somewhere else. It’s freezing up here.”
Your voice quivers at the word freezing and it takes Diluc a weighted amount of self-control to not react. “What are you doing here?”
You move to sit next to him, shoulders to shoulders, knees bumping in the cramped space of the attic with only moonlight from the small window behind you for company. He looks tired but rested enough to make the trip here. He’s just as handsome as when you last saw him two weeks ago, his hair falls perfectly into place and long lashes flutter alluringly to the spots of lights dotting the attic.
“I’m here to make sure you’re not freezing all by yourself.”
If you only know how much you’ve warmed him up already. He’s worn nothing underneath the Santa coat and was now regretting his entire night, but with you here, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Albedo must be downstairs luring Klee to sleep with a bedtime story, and soon Diluc will come downstairs for the surprise while Kaeya prepares the late-night treats. It really is colder up here. There’s barely any light saved by the dim moonlight. You can clearly see Diluc sitting with his back lifted from the cold wooden roof, arms to his side that itch to cover himself up.
You’re leaning against the window and at any point, your back might give out, but it’s so warm where your body touches his that you don’t mind staying here all night. It’s comfortable enough to take a quick nap.
“You’re shivering.”
His voice pulls you back from drowsiness to realize your hands are slightly shaking. You’ve left your coat and scarf in the living room when Albedo arrives home, hastily heads up to the attic after bidding Klee goodnight, excited to see Diluc in his Santa suit before anyone else does.
“You’re cold, too.” You observe. The man you’ve grown familiar with is trying his best to feign ignorance to winter’s temperamental nature. You half expected a grunt or denial—the usual Diluc would cross his arms and close his eyes, saying something along the lines of ‘if I can't stand something like this, then I’d be done long ago.’
But instead, he holds your gaze for a second longer and pulls you towards his chest. He wraps you tightly in his arms and buries his head in the crook of your neck, whispering words you never thought he’d say.
“Stay like this for a bit.”
His voice is soft, almost a request, almost a plea. His arms circle your waist and his breath tickles the skin on your collarbones. It gets way too hot way too quickly. Your heartbeat resonates loudly within your ears, and you’re almost certain he can hear it. You don’t know when your arms have draped themselves around his shoulders, but you tighten your hold and pull him impossibly closer.
It is like the world has frozen over and all that’s left is the warmth you share. Intimate and secretive. No one has to know.
“Is it warmer now?” He chuckles softly, the echoing in his chest sends you over the edge. “Your heart is beating quite fast.”
The usual you—the rational you—would push him away and dismiss any sort of reactions he’s gotten out of you as nonsense—an expected response to warmth. But the real you, the you who has a need to be close to him, decides to stay instead.
You pull back slightly and rest your head to his, catching his breath with your own. “Yours, too.”
It’s not a lie. His heart is beating just as fast as yours. Perhaps the both of you are just waiting for the other to make the first move, to slip up, to lose this game of back and forth you’ve been playing for years now. But to hell with that. You crave him just as he does you, and just when your eyes lock, the realization hits, and soon enough his lips are hovering before yours. You wonder how soft they are. Everything about Diluc seems hardened by the hardship he endured; you wonder if he ever felt the need to be close.
He bites off his gloves and pulls them free to touch your hair and glaze your skin. And when your lips finally meet, you let him kiss you until he’s satisfied, until you’re both satisfied. You let your breaths mingle, your skin exposed, fire dancing after the trails his lips left along your neck and collarbone. The desire bubbling up in your stomach is sweet and poisonous, eroding your reasons. You trail kisses along his chest where no one will later see underneath his coat. Bubbles of fog float between you, breathless as he kisses you through the tiny rays of moonlight from the window of the attic. Your hearts are set ablaze as the cold has never existed.
Diluc kisses you until you beg to part, to breathe, and he doesn’t let you go until you hear the impatience knocks from your host on the attic door, signaling the start of the show.