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Xiao wasn’t used to physical touch. He rarely was around people, anyway, and most mortals preferred to keep their distance; so it wasn’t much of a problem for him most of the time. Zhongli would sometimes startle him by resting a hand on his shoulder or lifting his chin to meet his eyes, but he wasn’t just anyone, and Xiao felt comfortable around him. After all, his master was clearly able to tell when he was feeling receptive to touch and when he was not.
Barbatos did not.
“Adeptus Xiao,” Barbatos giggled, tipping his head back to drain his glass for the fifth time in a very short span of time, his hair tickling Xiao’s cheek. He’d pretty much climbed on Xiao’s lap by now, and the only thing stopping him from taking a seat properly in there were his inebriated state and his lack of balance. “Xiao—”
Xiao couldn’t understand what was it that the Anemo Archon seemed to love about his name, but this behavior wasn’t unusual for him. Barbatos was fond of repeating his name again and again without any apparent reason, even when he wasn’t drunk; like he was savoring each letter, and he would always pout when Xiao wasn’t paying him the attention he believed he deserved. Just like in that moment.
“Xiao,” Barbatos whined, scrunching his nose and grabbing a fistful of his own cloak like an unhappy child. “It’s my birthday, you should, you should be looking at me! At all times! Just at me! What could be more interesting than…than…”
He interrupted himself to hiccup, and Xiao had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to try and regain his wits. It backfired. Barbato’s sweet scent filled his nose, all wine, blooming wildflowers and sea salt like the fresh breeze of spring in Mondstadt. It made him choke.
Barbatos huffed impatiently, squirming a little more in his place until Xiao saw himself forced to grab him by the waist to make it stop before he wilted and died on the spot. Barbatos settled down soon after that and got distracted fishing out the small pieces of fruit at the bottom of his glass to put them in his mouth, humming in contentment, and Xiao could finally have a break.
“It’s so unfair,” Barbatos mumbled to himself as he chewed on a piece of apple, his fingers still in his mouth. He sniffled and shifted so he could rest his head on Xiao’s shoulder, then resumed his task, this much time with much less enthusiasm, fighting against heavy eyelids that begged for sleep. It was only a matter of minutes before he went completely still. The hand in his mouth fell limply to his side, and the other remained clinging stubbornly to his empty glass.
His warm breath tickled Xiao’s skin when a small snore left his lips, and Xiao could finally release the long sigh he’d been holding all this long.
He’d survived. He’d known, from the moment Barbatos had requested his company that morning, that it would mean trouble for him; but even then he hadn’t been prepared for a simple picnic to turn out this complicated. Why Barbatos thought Xiao out of all people would be nice to have around on his birthday was something that puzzled Xiao, like most things that involved Barbatos did, but he hadn’t found it in him to refuse.
He closed his eyes too and wondered how he’d end up in this situation in the first place. Surely the Anemo Archon had to have many friends anyone would rather spend time with, but for some reason he’d only invited Xiao that day. It’d become a recurrent thing ever since Traveler had introduced them, even when Barbatos would be the only one to talk whenever they met most times, and while Xiao was content with that it didn’t make any sense.
It was also confusing how Barbatos could feel so comfortable getting so close to him. Xiao knew Archons had a much higher tolerance to his karmic debt than most adepti, but it still had to be uncomfortable to touch him, much more when it was skin-to-skin contact, which Barbatos seemed to adore. He would never lose any chance to sit as close to Xiao as the circumstances allowed, their arms and knees always brushing, sharing heat. He would also touch his face and take him by the hand when he wanted to show him something, and sometimes he’d even go as far as to press their cheeks together.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing about him made sense. Sometimes, it even resulted ridiculous to think—
Xiao opened his mouth and clamped his teeth down on something soft and warm, viciously, before he could stop to think better about it. His sharp canines pierced through skin, and through flesh, and it wasn’t until he heard a small cry that he realized what he’d just done.
He opened his eyes, startled, and saw Barbato’s very wide ones staring right back at him in bewilderment. It took Xiao much longer than it should have to let go of him, his jaw sore and stiff after biting down so harshly, but Barbatos lost no time before cradling his injured hand close to his chest, eyes brimming with tears.
“Y-you…” Barbatos started, “you bit me. You…”
He still seemed too shocked to fully process what had just happened. There was blood dripping down his skin, and while it wasn’t a lot, Xiao was still able to see two bruises forming where his teeth had broken through it. It was a nasty bite, the kind a wild animal would leave behind, and Xiao had just inflicted it on him. An Archon. A God. The God of Freedom.
“I…”
Xiao couldn’t even find the words. It had been a very long time since this had last happened to him, but it had also been a very long time since he’d last caught himself drifting off to sleep around someone without realizing, and even longer since anyone had tried to touch his face while he was half-asleep. For how long had he been out? Enough so Venti had woken up? That was terribly reckless.
“You bit me,” Venti mumbled, again, his voice much wetter this time. He sniffled, still looking at his hand, and then he squeezed his eyes shut and started bawling. “You bit meeee!”
It was Xiao’s turn to stare in shock, now, as the Anemo Archon flopped onto his back while holding his wrist gingerly and cried to his heart’s content, fat tears rolling down his pink cheeks. Venti kept repeating, “you bit me, you bit me,” like it was something unfair he was upset about and not a punishable crime, like Xiao would have expected, and the crying only kept getting louder whenever he stopped to take another look at his hand.
“You’re so mean,” Venti sobbed, scrunching his nose. “I just wanted—” A small hiccup, “I just wanted to see if you were asleep…I didn’t know you wouldn’t like it. It hurts!”
Xiao knew he was right. Venti had only tried to poke his cheek, something he should’ve been expecting, and something he would probably have been expecting if he hadn’t let his guard down. He knew he was the one in the wrong. And yet, he didn’t even get a chance to apologize, because he was too confused and Venti was too loud to even dream of formulating a coherent sentence.
“Y-you…you have to make it better!” Venti demanded. “You have to kiss it better! You have to! Before I— before I—”
He coughed and rolled onto his side, curling into himself as his crying slowly turned into small sniffles and hiccups, his face wet and his hair sticking to it everywhere. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes to glare accusingly at Xiao, but he looked too much like a wet kitten to take him seriously.
“You have to.” He said, very gravely, blinking away a few tears that had gotten caught in his long eyelashes. “Kiss it better.”
“I will,” Xiao said, and before he could fully process what had just left his lips, Venti had already gotten on his knees, his face so close to his that their noses were touching.
Venti wiped his face with his sleeves and, after sniffling one last time, he whispered “Okay”.
And then he closed his eyes, and he puckered his lips, his hand long forgotten.
Xiao had to do a double take.
Most mortal affairs were still a mystery to him to this day, but he could still be quite, fairly sure that this was not how “kissing it better” worked. At least not how he remembered. He wasn’t very experienced at kissing, for sure, but he did remember his brothers and sisters insisting on doing that to him whenever he got hurt when he was very young, like Guizhong always did for all of them, and it had most definitely never been on his mouth.
He stared at Venti’s lips for much longer than Venti seemed to like, because he made a small sound of impatience, shifting restlessly in his place as he tried to get closer, even when it was impossible because their knees were already touching. Xiao decided he was in no position to question the Archon he’d just blatantly disrespected.
He put a hand up hesitantly to cup one of Venti’s cheeks, which made Venti let out a small squeak, and before he could confuse himself any further he leaned in and he pressed his lips against his.
If breathing in Venti’s scent had felt a little bit like drowning, kissing his lips felt like breathing for the first time after a long time being underwater.
Venti made a small sound when Xiao, unable to help himself, moved his hand to thread his fingers into his hair and push their faces even closer, their teeth clinking briefly as their lips crashed together.
It was intoxicating.
Xiao didn’t even get a chance to breathe in between, but it still felt like his lungs were getting filled with the purest, cleanest air he’d ever had, soothing a deep ache within his chest he hadn’t even been aware he'd been carrying. Venti reciprocated eagerly, tilting his head slightly to the side to make things easier for him, parting his lips when Xiao demanded it.
He tasted of alcohol and strawberries and salt and apples, and Xiao had never before been fond of wine, ever, not once; but in that moment he couldn’t help but think it was the most exquisite thing he’d ever tried. He wanted more. Before he could do anything to control himself, he was already knocking Venti over, onto his back, and crawling on top of him to kiss him even deeper.
Venti giggled into his lips and buried a hand into his hair too, his injured one, while Xiao all but devoured that sweet relief from his lips. At some point, after a few minutes, it just wasn’t enough anymore, and he had to pull away to actually take a deep breath and get some very needed oxygen into his lungs.
Venti’s cheeks were red, even redder than when he’d been drinking, and he looked so awake and sober and lovely that Xiao couldn’t help but wonder for a second if he’d ever been drunk in the first place.
“Okay, okay, I think I feel better now!”
Xiao growled softly when Venti pushed him away, gently, but the feeling of Venti’s warm hands on his own cheeks brought him back to reality. He gaped at the Archon under him for one, two, three seconds; and then he felt his face heat up in utter shame.
“I apologize—”
“Do not,” Venti said, giggling, gazing fondly into his eyes as he caressed his cheek. “I quite enjoyed that."
Xiao closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then he sat back on his heels and helped Venti onto his knees again. Venti chuckled and lifted his hand to tuck a few strands of hair that had escaped his braids behind his ear.
Xiao frowned when he saw how bruised it already was, suddenly reminded of what had landed them here, and immediately reached forward to grab it in his own hands.
“It can get infected,” he said. “We need to put wine on it.”
Venti whined and started tugging at his hand, but Xiao didn’t let him out of his grip.
“No,” he said. “It’ll burn. I’ll be fine.”
“No,” Xiao insisted, frowning. “It’s necessary.”
Venti sniffled.
“Okay,” he mumbled. “But you’ll have to kiss it better afterwards.”
A small shiver ran down Xiao’s spine.