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“You should walk me home.”
Diluc doesn’t look up from the glass he’s polishing. “No.”
“Please?” Venti asks, voice the tiniest bit breathy. It’s the same voice used to use to try and convince the village girls to come home with him, just for one night, no one has to know—
Diluc’s hands stutter the tiniest bit, fingers pressing into the glass for just a second too long. The tips of his fingers go white, ungloved for just a few moments as he cleans up the tavern, and Venti finds himself entranced by the bare skin.
Really, when did he become this pathetic? The god Barbatos, salivating over another man’s fingers.
“You’re old enough to walk yourself back to your residence, aren’t you?” Diluc’s jaw ticks, clenched ever so slightly, but his hands are careful as they place the glass back down on the counter. “Wherever that is.”
Venti hops up to sit on the counter, careful not to displace the clean glass. He had just watched Diluc wipe it down, but the facial expression he makes is just too good to resist, just on the side of annoyed.
“That’s why you should walk me home! So you can know where I live, and perhaps visit me more often.”
Diluc’s facial expression doesn’t change, which isn’t surprising, because his facial expressions never really change— they just vary in their intensity. Instead, he slides his hands neatly back into his gloves.
“Go home, bard.” He says, in a tone that invites no further conversation. “I’m sure I will see you again tomorrow.”
Venti stares for a moment longer. Diluc’s face is almost soft in the candle light, and despite the brick wall he puts up, there’s a veil of youth that seems to smoothen out the jagged edges of his demeanor just the tiniest bit.
Diluc has lived through so much, and seen so much of the world, that sometimes Venti forgets he’s just a 20-something year old man, navigating his first somewhat-serious relationship.
Or, at least, Venti thinks it is. He assumes Diluc hasn’t had the time or energy for romantic relationships while traveling Teyvat and later protecting Mondstadt from the shadows, but he could be wrong.
“Hey.” Venti blinks, and Diluc is standing right in front of him. He doesn’t know when Diluc moved, but with Venti sitting on the counter, he’s up high enough that their faces are only a few centimeters apart. Venti can smell the scent of wine, sticking to Diluc’s clothes, and the barest hint of something sweeter just underneath.
“Come on.” Diluc’s breath is warm against his ear, and his lips brush Venti’s cheek for half a second. He takes a step back, but holds his hand out, and the leather is warm against Venti’s fingers as he hops off the counter.
They hold hands until Diluc has finished locking up the tavern. He squeezes Venti’s hand once before letting go, and Venti’s hand grasps at empty air as Diluc pulls a hood and his Darknight Hero mask on.
“You’re right, I will see you tomorrow!” Venti tries, as cheerfully as he can manage. The only bit of Diluc left in the figure in front of him is the red of his eyes. Venti feels like he’s staring at a stranger.
The Darknight Hero disappears into the stars without a goodbye, and Venti’s cheek continues to burn under the cool night sky, hand clenching around nothing.
---
Venti has never had a lover like Diluc before.
It’s not that Diluc is a man. Venti has had lovers of all genders before, and even a few without gender and all in between. He’s been with men taller than him and shorter than him, with hair of every color under the sun, including those poor and rich and very rich. And somehow, he has never known anyone like Diluc before.
It’s the way he cares, and yet doesn’t. Diluc will give Venti discounts at the tavern in return for evening entertainment, but will tell Venti to his face that he doesn’t care for his music. He will cut off Venti’s drinks when he thinks he’s had too much, but won’t walk him home to make sure he gets there safe. It’s an inconstant hot and cold, and at the worst of times, Venti thinks that the pure mystery of it all is half of what keeps him around.
(Diluc cares like someone who's loved deeply and with abandon his entire life before forcing himself to stop, and there’s a part of Venti that wants to carefully undo these teachings and show Diluc how to truly love someone once again. But that’s neither here nor there.)
---
When Venti first arrived back in the city, he fell in love with Mondstadt all over again. He fell in love with the way the architecture was exactly the way he remembered it, the people who live their lives freely and happily, the gorgeous statue in the middle of the pavilion, and the Knights of Favonius, who to this day remain the first and strongest protectors of the city.
Right now, however, he’s feeling much less enamored with the Knights. There’s a variety of reasons, but the biggest one sits perched on a branch of the tree above him like a bird, a smirk twisted onto his face in a way that seems unnaturally natural.
“He’s never gonna love you the way you want him to.” Kaeya laughs, teeth glinting in the sunlight.
Venti strums his lyre, and does not look up. This is his safe space, his happy place. He’s in a soothing meadow under the tree that carries all of the kindest memories of one of his best friends, listening to the music of the wind. Nothing and no one can touch him here.
“He doesn’t know how you, you know. He used to be a lot cuter when he was younger, but even then, he was never prone to dramatic expressions of affection. He’s the perfect little gentleman, after all.”
“That’s funny.” Venti bites out. “I don’t remember asking you, outlander.”
He looks up for the barest of seconds, just to see the way Kaeya covers his flinch with another forced greasy smile.
“It’s not your fault, you know.” False pity laces every word. “That’s just the way he’s always been. Walls higher than Mondstadt’s city gates, thicker than the stone. There’s nothing you can do.”
“Just get to the point.” Venti glares long and hard enough that Kaeya wilts just the tiniest bit. One should never forget: he may not be the patron god of the city anymore, but he is still a god, and should be treated as such.
“You’ve gotta be the one to make the first move.” Kaeya hops down neatly, brushing flecks of invisible dirt off his uniform. “Do something romantic. The man isn’t going to know how to act unless you show him.”
Venti’s fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around his lyre. “Are you really giving me relationship advice right now? Me, who has lived for thousands of years and had hundreds of lovers? You, who hasn’t had a real conversation with his brother in four years?”
Kaeya shrugs. “You can either take my advice or leave it, but at least consider it. I’m trying to do you a favor, you know.”
Venti stows his lyre and resists the urge to do something ridiculous, like hiss at Kaeya. It’s infuriating how easily he is able to get under Venti’s skin.
“Get out of my sight.” He says instead.
“Yes sir.” Kaeya salutes, every inch the perfect knight except for the enormous smirk on his face, and the way his deep blue eye shines just shy of golden against the sun, a hint of unspoken history neither of them dare touch for the sake of protecting the one person they have in common.
The wind carries the sound of Kaeya’s laughter all the way back from the city.
---
Regardless of Kaeya’s dubious intentions, Venti doesn’t see the harm in at least trying. He might not be from Teyvat, but Kaeya is a Knight of Favonius all the same. Belonging to the city is something they both have in common.
So one night, when Diluc is buried deep in work at the winery, he makes his way to the Whispering Woods, following the faint tinkling of small lamp grass. It’s a lovely plant, and reminds Venti of Diluc in all the ways that matter. They shine best at night, can only be found deep in the woods where no one would venture unless they were absolutely serious about adventuring, and most importantly, are a Mondstadt specialty. That’s romantic enough, isn’t it? The luminescent bulbs resonate somewhere inside of Venti’s chest, and he gathers just enough to create a small bouquet.
He doesn’t second guess his decision until the next night, when he offers the bouquet to Diluc. Once again, they’re going through the motions of saying goodnight and pretending they don’t want something more.
“What is this?” Diluc asks, his voice almost entirely flat. He’s still dressed like Diluc-of-Angel’s-Share, as opposed to Diluc-the-Darknight-Hero, but Diluc’s face is as expressionless as a mask anyway.
“Something romantic.” Venti replies. “I foraged some flowers for you.”
The sun has already set, and the lamp grasses shine green against the black of Diluc’s coat. Venti likes it. Green and red go spectacularly together, in his opinion.
Diluc is silent for a moment longer. “Aren’t these weeds?” He asks. If Venti were any less nervous, he might have called the slight tremor in Diluc’s voice hesitation.
“Huh?”
“Small lamp grass is a species of wild grass that grows in the wooded areas of Mondstadt.” Diluc says, sounding exactly like he’s reading an academic text from the library. “But they’re just weeds, aren’t they?”
“I’ve never thought about it like that before.” Venti replies, slightly numb. The way Diluc phrases it makes it sound like something bad, like there’s nothing romantic about bringing a handful of grass to your lover in an attempt to do something nice for them. Venti looks at Mondstadt and all the things that live and grow in his country as beautiful and wonderful and perfect and has forgotten that maybe, just maybe, not everyone sees it that way.
“If you don’t like them, that’s okay.” Venti laughs as light as he can, light as the wind, because Diluc has yet to reply. “I just thought they were pretty, that’s all.”
He reaches out to take the flowers back, cursing that damned Kaeya Alberich in his head the entire time and his own gullible nature, but Diluc jerks the slightest bit back and stops him in his tracks.
“That’s okay.” Diluc says. He stands in the middle of his tavern awkwardly, hands wrapped tight around the bouquet, something faint clenched in his jaw. “I like them. Let me find a vase to put them in.” It sounds like a lie.
Diluc disappears into the back of his store, and Venti bites his lip hard enough that if he were human, he’d probably be bleeding.
---
It wouldn’t be an issue if it was like this with everyone. The problem is that Diluc’s only this awkward and stilted and closed off with Venti, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of them being involved.
He catches sight of Diluc speaking with the Gunnhildr girl one afternoon, not long after. Venti doesn’t mean to spy, but he had been catching up with an old friend in Wolvendom when he caught sight of the Acting Grand Master passing by. Following her wasn’t a conscious decision on his part, which is how he ends up at Dawn Winery.
Venti doesn’t often make an appearance at Dawn Winery. At the beginning of their courtship, in the interest of not entirely overwhelming the other man and invading every aspect of his life, Venti had decided to avoid the Dawn Winery area and manor. He regrets that decision now, since sneaking through the grapevines to see just what exactly Jean wants with Diluc is not exactly his ideal afternoon.
The wind carries the sound of their voices easily to Venti’s ears, but as he watches the two of them together he finds that he just… doesn't. He doesn’t want to listen, doesn’t want to hear what the two of them are saying to each other. Jean punches Diluc’s arm lightly as she laughs at something he says, and a sweet smile comes easily to Diluc’s face.
Venti is not normally a jealous lover, but something sinks in his stomach at the sight of them together. He knows they’re close in age, and have spent several years together as childhood friends and colleagues. It’s hard not to see how lovely they look together, framed perfectly by the setting sun.
---
Venti doesn’t make a habit of trespassing on Morax’s land, but Morax isn’t the Archon god of Liyue anymore, just like Venti isn’t the Archon god of Mondstadt.
He floats up to the roof of Wangshu Inn, because you can take the spirit out of the wind but you can’t take the wind out of the spirit. Or something. Venti will figure out how to work that into a song later.
“Xiao?” He calls. It’s late enough in the day that most of the guests at the inn have returned to their rooms to rest, which means there should be no fear of guests gaping at the adeptus that materializes on the balcony below.
“Lord Barbatos.” Xiao replies, proper as ever.
Venti floats down to meet him, and marvels at how much disdain Xiao can fit into what would normally be perfectly polite conduct.
“I’m having boy troubles.” Venti says. He is, famously, the exact opposite of perfectly polite.
Xiao blinks once, in what is probably disbelief, but does not leave. Venti takes that as a win.
“I feel as though it breaks some sort of unspoken rule to speak to your ex-lover about issues with your current one.” It’s spoken like a question, almost, with each word chosen carefully for maximum emphasis.
“Please, that was at least five hundred years ago.” Venti says flippantly, with no actual idea of how long it’s been since they courted. “Plus, who else do I have to go to?”
Xiao still has not left yet. Things are looking good for Venti.
“What then, exactly, is the issue?” He asks awkwardly, and it occurs to Venti right then and there that he might have a type.
“I think Diluc’s gonna break up with me soon.”
“That’s it?” Venti is extremely offended with how bored Xiao sounds.
“Rude!” Venti replies, making it as obvious as he can just how affronted he is. “This is a serious concern, okay?”
“You weren’t nearly as worried when I called off our relationship.” Xiao replies calmly. “What is the difference? He’s mortal, isn’t he? Sooner or later it will end no matter what.”
“Yes, but…” It’s hard for Venti to explain. He tries to imagine Diluc giving up on him five, ten, fifteen years in the future, and feels nothing but the disappointment of inevitability. All good things must come to an end, of course, and his relationship with Diluc is no exception, but when Venti imagines Diluc turning away tomorrow and never again getting to see the shy smile Diluc saves just for him on the rarest of occasions, or no longer being allowed to glimpse at the way the very tips of his ears turn red with only the most clever innuendos, it feels like the wind has been kicked out of his chest.
“Someday he’ll get tired of me, and he’ll move on.” Venti shrugs. Xiao more than anyone would know that it’s true, that everyone does, sooner or later, so he tries his best to play it cool. Still, there’s no hiding the way his face is turning red. “Is it wrong of me to want to make the most of the time I have with him now?”
Xiao’s empty stare is just short of non-judgemental, but Venti will take what he can get. “You know, in all the time we were together, I never really took you for a coward.”
“Excuse me?”
“When I told you it was over between us, you smiled and spoke at length about the beauty of freedom in all aspects of life before wishing me well and letting me go. It never seemed like…” Xiao trails off for a moment and shakes his head before continuing. “I think maybe instead of spending your time worrying about when your boy is going to leave, you should instead spend your time thinking of ways to make him stay.”
“I brought him flowers!” Venti sputters. “What else do I have to do?”
Xiao turns and stares out at the mountain peaks so Venti can no longer see his face before replying. “Talk to him. Ask him about his interests. Go beyond what you find comfortable to accommodate him. Compared to us, mortals live short, meaningless lives. Do not forget: you are not the only one worried about what the future might hold.”
Venti stares at the back of Xiao’s head until the black and green bleed into one another, and until the darkness of his hair bleeds into the night sky.
“Did you think I didn’t care about you when you left?” Venti is almost afraid to ask, but things are starting to click into place. “That since I didn’t do all those things you just mentioned I wasn’t also worried about whatever future we might have had together?”
“There is no point in worrying about the past.” Xiao says, voice oh so very soft. Venti hears his reply anyway, a brush of wind against his ear.
Xiao leaving all those years ago hurt like a missing tooth. Venti mourned the loss of someone he could have potentially spent the rest of forever with, tongue brushing against the empty space in his mouth over and over again, but even then, he had just been one other in a string of lovers. The thought of saying goodbye to Diluc in this way, this burning fire in his heart, leaves him gasping for the very air he was born out of. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt since the very beginning of this life.
Venti has never had a lover like Diluc before.
“I’m sorry.” Venti says. He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for, or who he’s apologizing to: maybe it’s for the careless way things ended between the two of them, or to Diluc for all the confusion his flighty nature might have caused.
“You’ll be okay. It was more than five hundred years ago, after all.” Xiao turns slightly, so Venti can see the small smile on his face. “Just do better by your boy. And never come to me for relationship advice again.”
Venti continues to laugh, even long after Xiao has vanished into the wind.
---
Venti has always been at least a little bit aware of the Ragnvindr clan. He doesn’t keep track of the family lines, but he knows what makes a Ragnvindr the same way he knows his Gunnhildr’s and Lawrence’s.
Still, the first time he sees Diluc Ragnvindr comes as something of a surprise. Venti is aware that the Ragnvindr family is known for their red hair and gentlemanly nature and (most importantly) dandelion wine, but he didn’t expect this newest descendant to be so pretty. Or so fierce.
It’s not until the outlander sweeps through Mondstadt that Venti finds himself actually speaking to the young Master Diluc for the first time, and he finds himself absolutely hooked. He spends all of his free time in Angel’s Share, memorizing the schedule for when Diluc comes into the city to bartend for the night, unable to tear himself away even for a moment.
And then, one night, after hours of raucous knights drinking and dancing, after Venti has run through almost his entire repertoire of traditional Mondstadt drinking songs, he stays just a little bit longer to help Diluc clean up the store, enraptured by the twinkle in his eye. In return, Diluc presses a soft kiss against his cheek and asks him to come back just a little bit earlier the next night so he can cook dinner for the two of them, and Venti begins the fall.
Even head over heels, the wind feels wonderful against his face.
---
“You weren’t here yesterday.” Diluc says, somewhat stiffly.
Venti smiles, and tilts his head ever so slightly. “Aw, did you miss me?” He asks, not really expecting an answer.
Diluc stands before him in his Darknight Hero outfit, hands hanging loosely at his sides, framed by the doorway of his tavern. It’s the same pose Venti sees every time they do this little dance, which is why it’s so surprising when Diluc pulls his mask off his face and actually replies.
“Yes.” His cheeks are red, bold against his pale skin even with minimal light.
Venti gapes at the sight in front of him, but in what seems to be an attempt to dismantle every preconceived notion Venti had about him, Diluc reaches into his coat with the hand not holding his mask before holding it out in front of him.
“Here. This is for you.” Venti listens closely, and thinks that perhaps this is what embarrassment might sound like.
It’s a flower. A single cecilia is sitting in Diluc’s gentle fist, and Venti finds himself holding his breath as he reaches out to take it from him.
“For me?” The flower is delicate, with the palest hints of pink at the tips of the petals, perfectly in bloom. “Where did you get it?” There are a few flower merchants in the area, but none of them have stock of this high quality or freshness.
“Starsnatch.” Diluc lives a busy life, running the Winery and commuting into the city to bartend. The idea that he would spend his time venturing all the way out to Starsnatch Cliff for a single flower is absurd.
“How about I make it up to you, and visit you at the Winery tomorrow?” Venti is unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He feels a little bit faint. “I always see you at night, so I feel like it’ll be nice to spend time with you during the day. If you want, of course.”
“Trying to access the wine straight from the source?” Diluc asks. He’s still red, and Venti thinks that maybe he might be joking. Or half-joking.
Still, he shakes his head. “I want to see where you grew up. I knew Crepus in passing but it’s different with you.” Everything’s different with you, he does not say.
Diluc stares for a second before nodding. Venti doesn’t know what he sees, but the relief of his offer being accepted is overwhelming at the moment.
And, if Diluc has done this much for him, then perhaps…
“Will you walk me home?” Venti asks, as sweetly as he can. Not seductively, or playfully, but honest in a way he has never tried being before.
Diluc puts the mask back on, and Venti mourns the loss of no longer being allowed to look at his face. “Do you need my protection?” He asks, and this time, he’s most definitely joking.
“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” The red of Diluc’s eyes remind him of the red of his hair in the sun and the red of his cheeks when he’s feeling vulnerable. Maybe, just maybe, Venti can still find his lover in the stranger front of him anyway.
“Alright then.” Diluc turns towards the main city before holding his hand out. “Show me the way then, so that I can visit you more often. And make sure you hold my hand, since I want to protect you anyway.”
Venti imagines that if Diluc’s hood were down and his mask were off, he would be able to see the red on Diluc’s ears and cheeks. He’ll settle for a goodnight kiss at the door, though.
{
Extra:
“You should get him flowers.”
“Hello, Kaeya.” Diluc replies to the shadow sitting in the corner of his closed tavern. “For some reason, I cannot ever once remember asking you for relationship advice.”
Kaeya laughs, because he’s always been an asshole and always will be.
“You’d think for a god he’d be less of a sappy romantic, or wouldn’t care so much about how little you do for him. I mean, if I had an entire city worshipping me and praising my name every day, I wouldn’t really care about little ol’ you either.”
Diluc sighs. “Are you just here to antagonize me, or do you want something?”
“Me?” Kaeya asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t want anything. The question is, do you?”
“I want you to leave me alone.” Diluc answers. “Please. For once.”
Kaeya smiles, a kinder smile than what one would normally see on his face, and it reminds Diluc of the children they used to be, growing up in the winery together as brothers. But there’s no point in remembering something only one of them cares about.
“Can you honestly tell me that you’re happy like this? Always toeing around each other, afraid to make a move, each of you wondering when the other is going to leave or change their mind or if he even likes you at all to begin with?”
Diluc shakes his head. “There’s no way he’s even remotely thinking about any of those things.”
“You’d be surprised.” Kaeya is too smug for this conversation, like he knows something Diluc doesn’t, and the itchiness of it all digs somewhere deep down into Diluc’s bones.
Venti is always happy, though. He smiles, and he laughs, and he flits through the city like a wisp of wind, and Diluc likes it so much that it makes it him stupid. It steals the words from his lungs, turning his bones into jelly. Not because Venti is powerful enough to bring him to his knees with a single word, but because he’s suffered through lifetimes of pain and sorrow and somehow still manages to smile.
Sometimes, it makes Diluc feel lacking. Other times, it makes him feel in love.
“Just give it a shot.” Kaeya says softly, sounding far more like an older brother than he should be allowed to. “He went through all the effort to get you those, the least you could do is return the favor.”
He nods to the vase filled with small lamp grass sitting behind the counter, only visible to the patrons from the exact corner of the tavern where Kaeya is sitting, and Diluc loses himself in the calming glow for a split second. The green reminds him of the vines growing outside of his home, of long days spent as a child playing in the grass with his family, and of the eyes of his favorite person in all of Teyvat.
}