Chapter Text
“This job is going to require significantly more work than others,” Childe’s boss — the Tsaritsa, as they like to call her — speaks to the two sitting across from her. “Rather than photographing a celebrity and construing a false narrative that works with the photos, we will be constructing our own narrative and creating photos that follow it.”
Childe nods dutifully, only letting his eyes graze toward Signora at his side when a quiet snort leaves her nose. There’s no time for Childe to dwell on it before the Tsaritsa continues, “Childe, you will be the main key to this plan. You cannot afford to mess this up, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you need.”
Signora releases another snort, and this time Childe is able to narrow his eyes at her before the Tsaritsa recollects his attention with a loud: “Wonderful. I need you to be gay for this job — this mission, if you will.”
Childe splutters but catches himself quickly, sending Signora another dirty look at her third snort. “May I ask why? Not that it’s a big deal, really. I’m not necessarily straight.”
“Again, wonderful,” The Tsarista says with a nod, “I have sent Signora and even others on the same job in the past, yet none of them have reached success. It’s come time to try another approach.”
“Alright,” Childe offers apprehensively, but the Tsaritsa is his boss and there’s no room for him to question her ideas. “Like I said, whatever you need to be done will be done.”
At this, the Tsaritsa gives him another nod. Her face is much more serious now, and even Signora has quieted down, so Childe shifts in his seat and gives her his undivided attention, although she had already had it.
“You will need to act as if you have absolutely no idea who Diluc Ragnvindr is. That may be where the other missions went wrong, because I had allowed them to approach him plainly. With these other approaches now in the past, I have the sneaking suspicion he may be gay.”
Childe lets out a cough to fill the heavy silence quickly filling the Tsaritsa’s office. “Diluc Ragnvindr? But he’s one of the most famous actors out there right now, if not of all time. Who doesn’t know him?”
“As of now, you.”
“And — wait, hold on! Isn’t he in a well-known relationship with Jean Gunnhildr?”
“That is precisely what we are placing all of our bets on,” The Tsaritsa responds uninterestedly, which forces Childe back into silence with another glance at Signora. “Despite his very public relationship with his female co-star, I still have the sneaking suspicion that he’s hiding something. Once you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you’ll begin to realize things long before they’re even revealed.”
Childe gives her another attentive nod, biting back a comment about how he’d much rather not be in this business as long as she has.
“Also, big scandals bring big business for people like us. Even if we need to lure him into a disagreeable photo-op, then so be it. He’s the world’s hottest topic, especially with his new movie soon to release. And, quite frankly, I just don’t like the man.”
Although he’s fairly new to the company compared to his coworkers, Childe has still worked with the Tsaritsa long enough to know not to question her motives and reasonings. In this line of work, it’s simply a matter of getting the job done and hoping not to hate yourself after you clock out. So, he remains silent and only offers another nod at the Tsaritsa’s words.
That is until Signora repositions herself in her seat, grabbing Childe’s attention. “I understand what needs to be done, but uh — what’s she here for?”
Signora gives him a quiet snarl just as the Tsaritsa answers, “She’ll be taking the pictures.”
Childe scowls back at the woman, turning back to the Tsaritsa with a: “Fair enough.”
“Wonderful,” The Tsaritsa repeats once more, “this job is without a doubt one of the tougher ones, so I will not be giving any harsh deadlines. I only expect everything to go successfully before the release of that man’s new movie.”
“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”
+++
When he had graduated from university, Childe never expected that putting his Journalism degree to use would consist of a plethora of Google searches concerning a hotshot actor and his co-star.
And yet, somehow, he'll need to act like he knows nothing about the man, despite the fact that he has delved so deep into his life history on Google. All he really needed to know was some of the places that Diluc frequents, but with all sorts of rumors and gossip magazines a click of a link away, Childe found himself sucked right in. Guess the Tsaritsa was right — scandals really do sell.
Although, with all of the deep-diving into Diluc’s past and present, Childe is now more sure than ever of exactly which topics to avoid in order to diminish any risks of suspicion. And, he’s learned that Diluc really only frequents a couple of places max — he’s clearly a man that finds what he likes and sticks to it.
All of this is why Childe finds himself camped outside of one of Mondstadt’s simplest coffee shops, hiding behind the dashboard of a company car personally provided by the Tsaritsa. He’s parked far enough away to hopefully remain inconspicuous, and he’s ready to spend the entire day there if it means it will make his boss happy.
Luckily, it only takes about an hour for Childe to spot his target: Diluc Ragnvindr, in the flesh. He’s wearing a simple, black coat with a beige scarf thrown around his neck. The man, despite his well-known status as an actor, appears rather normal.
Childe quickly shoves himself out of the company car, staying low and keeping his head down as he sprints to the door of the coffee shop. He’s already planned how his fully intentional “unintentional” meeting with the great and illustrious Diluc Ragnvindr will go, and that requires him being in front of the man in line.
He makes it just in time, stepping into line and standing casually just as he hears the coffee shop door ring with a new arrival after him. With the quickest of glances toward said new arrival, Childe is able to confirm that Diluc will in fact be behind him in line. Thank goodness Diluc is such a particular type of famous person, meaning he prefers to run his own errands even when he has personal assistants.
Diluc appears gruff — or at least unsettled in a way — which is perfect for Childe. According to all of the fan reports from miscellaneous social media websites, Diluc Ragnvindr seems to simply be that way all of the time, but Childe isn’t meant to know that.
Right here and now, Childe will simply be another coffee shop patron that happens to not care for or watch many movies. His new persona tends to watch others around a room and get a feel for how they might be feeling, which holds true even for Childe’s real self. Should be easy enough…
“Hi, there!” Childe waves slightly as he approaches the counter. “One small iced latte, please.”
The girl taking his order finishes quickly enough, and when it comes time for Childe to pay, he nearly jitters with excitement at the idea of his plan finally blooming.
“Thank you very much,” he offers gleefully, lowering his voice and leaning in to continue, “could you go ahead and put a large coffee on my card, please? It’ll be for whatever coffee the man behind me would like.”
“Large?”
“Yes, that’ll be perfect.”
“Alright, sir.” The girl points him toward the small crowd waiting for their drinks to be made. “Your ticket number is 46. Please wait over there.”
Childe offers her one last grin and a “thanks!” before hightailing it toward the waiting crowd in order to watch Diluc’s reaction to the news himself. He’ll need to be smart about this — he wants to witness Diluc’s reaction, but if Diluc were to glance over at him, he needs to appear completely indifferent.
The man approaches the counter casually, obviously listing off his coffee specifications until the girl finally drops the good news. Childe can see exactly as it happens, the slight hesitation in Diluc’s shoulders indicating some wariness. The girl turns to point Childe out to him specifically, and Childe forces his eyes toward the window beside him in an effort to appear normal.
His eyes remain focused on the world outside of the window, with him too afraid to glance over toward Diluc again. It seems like any wrong move might alert the man, especially with all of the fan encounters he read through — Diluc Ragnvindr has a wary (and weary) aura about him.
“Excuse me,” a deep, almost gravelly, voice calls from Childe’s right, and he whips his head to the sound immediately. “I was told you paid for my coffee.”
Childe throws on a smile. “That’s me!”
“May I ask why?” Diluc asks abruptly, eyes narrowed. “And why a size large? Surely, that’s too much coffee for one sitting.”
“No reason really.” Childe shrugs. “Looked like you could use a pick-me-up this morning, that’s all. I don’t know how much coffee you usually like, so better safe than sorry.”
Childe watches as Diluc’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, only to be forced back into rest. Obviously, the man has trained his reactions — he’s an actor.
"Don't worry about it! I just wanted to do something nice today!" Childe continues, waving Diluc away slightly. He's rarely one to truly get nervous, but with Diluc in his proximity, he has to agree with all of the poor fans that darted straight to social media to scream about just how intimidated they were.
Diluc clears his throat suddenly, apparently taking the hint and stepping away. He remains close enough for Childe to glance at his hands — large, gloved, and currently fidgeting with each other. Can it just so happen that Diluc is the nervous one here?
The fidgeting stops abruptly, leaving Childe scared and thinking that Diluc could have read his mind. "In that case, thank you." Diluc turns to him once more, and Childe finds himself widening his eyes back at him.
"It's no problem at all!" He forces, again lifting a hand for a stupid little wave. Although, he doesn't wish to wave Diluc any further away, so he quickly redirects his hand to his hair, brushing back his bangs. "Just wanted to put a smile on a beautiful face this morning," he finishes with a smile of his own, eyes on Diluc's.
It's silent for a long moment, and Childe nearly begins to fidget under Diluc's gaze. Surely he hasn't utterly screwed up this mission right from the start, has he? Does saying something stupid like that let a famous person know that you know them?
A quiet click of Diluc's tongue gathers Childe's attention once more, just in time to watch as he forces his head to his right, his ponytail thrown across his shoulder at the action. Childe is just about to assume his job is dead and over until he spots a faint tint of red at the tip of Diluc's ear.
Is the famous actor blushing ? Childe oogles the man's ear without shame, another smile creeping onto his face. But, the red tint is gone as soon as it came, and Childe releases a short cough when Diluc finally turns back to him.
"Again, thanks," Diluc offers plainly, not even quirking his mouth up into the smile that Childe had asked for. Luckily, Childe is a fairly patient person, and he hadn't expected to raise a blush out of the man on the first day of his mission, so he'll take it. Perhaps the Tsaritsa really does know things ahead of time.
The barista behind the counter finally calls out 46, and Childe jumps to the ready. He offers Diluc one last smile of his own, letting out a "For you? Anytime," before wisping away to claim his coffee.
On his way back out of the door, Childe darts his gaze back to Diluc for a moment, finding the man already looking back at him. He sends him a final wink before pulling the exit door open and stepping out into the cold winter air. It hits his cheeks and cools down the fire that had begun to accumulate there.
Feeling stupid, Childe walks a few paces down the sidewalk toward one of the neighboring buildings. On the off chance that Diluc is still watching him — or worse, has asked one of the two suited men surrounding the building to keep an eye on him — he doesn't want to up and drive off in a shady blacked-out van. Nothing says paparazzi and sleazy tabloid writer like a blacked-out van.
He makes it nearly halfway down the rest of the storefronts on the block before realizing that what he is doing is a waste of time and that he should definitely drive off now.
And the timing is perfect, because when Childe turns to head back, he spots a distinct head of fiery red hair walking slowly out of the coffee shop. He remains completely still despite being metres away by now, squinting at the man's slow pace.
He spots Diluc talking to the suited men that had stood outside, and Childe's eyes move to the large coffee held in one of Diluc's gloved hands. The drink is lifted suddenly, not toward Diluc's mouth but up toward the street, and Childe feels his cheeks once again burn against the cold air when he learns that Diluc has taken out his phone and is snapping a picture of the drink.
Only the first day down, and Childe can say without a doubt that Diluc Ragnvindr is not what he had expected.
+++
With it nearing a week since Childe’s first meeting with the esteemed Diluc Ragnvindr, both Signora and the Tsaritsa were growing restless with the lack of new updates. Childe doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he may have messed up and scared Diluc off, so avoids the topic and instead focuses his attention on the coffee shop doors day after day.
Is it strange that Diluc has suddenly stopped showing up at his favorite coffee shop? According to Google, there aren’t very many other places he frequents, and Childe believes it would be a lot less suspicious of him to run into Diluc in the same place again rather than a new one.
Childe spends yet another morning in the company van, his feet kicked onto the dashboard as he uses Signora’s tablet to do another thorough search for information on his target. The results he finds are all just the same as before: tales of Diluc’s skilled acting, disappointed fans whining that he’s unagreeable, and scattered articles containing snippets of his relationship with Jean. Childe isn’t quite sure how to feel about going after a man in a clear relationship, but he figures if Diluc actually goes along with him then it’s on him. With the rumors of his unpleasant meetings with fans, Childe would go so far as to say he deserves it.
Powering off the tablet with a sigh, Childe throws his head back against the headrest. Obviously, he has luck with timing, because as soon as he peeks an eye out toward the coffee shop once more, he finally finds the target that has been missing for days.
He drags his legs down to the floor, jumping up from his seat so quickly that he hits his head against the roof of the van. Sparing only a moment to clutch at his head, Childe swings the van door open and stumbles outside. Shit, he’s definitely too late to get in the coffee shop before Diluc does. Why had he been so relaxed?
Childe jogs toward the coffee shop anyway, holding onto a sliver of hope that Diluc will take his time getting into line. But of course, he doesn’t, and Childe watches as Diluc orders the same two suited men to stand outside as he enters the building himself.
Clearing his throat, Childe fixes his coat and rearranges his scarf before strolling up to the coffee shop entrance. He gives the two men a little nod before pulling open the handle and walking inside, immediately wondering if that was a mistake.
A cheery “Welcome in!” is heard from the counter, and Childe’s eyes land on Diluc’s back in front of him. The man has taken off his coat this time, allowing Childe to eye the expanse of muscle seen through the thin button-down.
“Hello!” Childe calls back, not so much for the workers but to test Diluc’s reaction. And, sure enough, Childe is allowed an eyeful of the muscles along his back tensing at his voice. He steps in line behind Diluc just in time to come face to face with him as he turns. “Oh, it’s you!”
Diluc blinks at him in surprise, and Childe tilts his head questioningly. “Oh, great, not you again,” Diluc grumbles, but he’s soon turning his entire body to face Childe, which gives his real intentions away.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that."
Diluc is silent for a moment, watching Childe as if waiting for him to mess up and confess the Tsaritsa’s entire plan, until finally he coughs out, “Well, it’s a surprise to see you again.”
Childe grins, shifting his weight until his face is much too near to the other man’s. “A very lucky surprise indeed. I was hoping to see you again.”
"Really?"
"Of course!" Childe slaps a hand to Diluc’s shoulder, resting it there as he sends him another smile, watching as Diluc becomes perfectly still at the touch. “It’s not every day you run into such a gorgeous man, you know?"
Childe feels Diluc stiffen in place at his words, a hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as a low sigh leaves his mouth. The only indication that Childe is getting anywhere with his mission is the faint blush that makes its way past Diluc's cheeks and to his ears.
Though, with a low cough, Diluc is fully recovered. He narrows his eyes at Childe for just a moment before asking, "How do you like your coffee?"
The rise of Childe's eyebrows, as well as the obnoxious little drop to his jaw, is surely enough to piss the actor off on any given day — except for this one apparently. Instead, Childe swears he spots at least one corner of the man's mouth tilting upward. He's not bold enough to call it a smile quite yet, but it's getting there.
"Oh? Is there a reason for this question?" Childe prods at Diluc's shoulder before dropping his hand entirely. "I usually just go for an iced latte, one sugar. And yourself?"
"Hmm," Diluc hums, finger to his chin in thought, "you'll see."
Childe blinks at him in surprise, failing to respond before the barista behind the counter calls for the next in line. He watches as Diluc steps up, and again blinks in surprise when he finds Diluc turning to wave him over.
"And that'll be an iced latte for him," Diluc is saying as Childe steps in beside him. "With two sugars, if you will."
"Two?" Childe asks just as the barista points at Diluc's total.
"You'll see," Diluc repeats, and Childe's sure now that his eyes aren't tricking him — there really is the faintest of smiles on the man's face.
After finishing up in line, the two stand in wait for their drinks. Diluc's bold moment is apparently gone now, which leaves Childe swaying on the balls of his feet beside him.
He allows himself to watch the man, learning that he's slightly taller than him. Diluc has also gone without many of his layers this time around, which leads Childe to believe that he won't be taking his coffee straight out of the building this time. Not to mention his gloves aren't covering his hands now, letting Childe run his eyes over every vein and neatly trimmed fingernail.
"Do you have somewhere to be after this?" Childe finally breaks the silence, practically tearing his eyes away from Diluc's polished forearms.
"Not until later in the afternoon, no." Diluc looks at him expectantly.
Childe bites back a smile, forcing his eyes to meet with Diluc's despite feeling utterly caught . "Well, since you've bought me my coffee and all, I'm afraid you’re letting me get the wrong idea. How about we sit and drink them together?"
Diluc’s eyes remain on his own, the look in them so intense Childe’s almost pressured to look away — almost . This is the moment of truth after all. He needs some good news to give the Tsaritsa.
“That’ll work,” Diluc answers with a clearing of his throat. He finally snaps his eyes toward the rest of the coffee shop behind Childe, and Childe grins in complete victory when he spots the growing-familiar red adorning his ear.
“Great!” Childe cheers, taking his place beside Diluc to look out at the open tables with him. Really, it’s an excuse to lightly lay his hand at the top of Diluc’s back, relishing in the way Diluc’s muscles tense under the touch. “I’ll go ahead and grab us a table.”
Diluc coughs out a simple: “Good idea,” and Childe drops his hand back to his side once more.
Childe is so elated he’s almost humming under his breath as he practically bounces his way toward the table against the window. His plan and the Tsaritsa’s mission are going splendidly so far, and just when he thought he would need to give her some bad news too.
However, a heavy sigh escapes past his lips as he trails his index finger across the surface of the chosen table. From his minimal interactions with the man, Diluc Ragnvindr is not quite so much the unagreeable and unapproachable man that social media makes him out to be. In fact, he’s easily flustered and charming in his own way, which makes it that much harder for Childe to keep up his facade.
By far, the worst part of his job is the deceit — he’s never been much of a liar.
“Something the matter?” Diluc’s voice is the softest it's been now, causing Childe to snap his attention straight toward him.
“Not at all! Just got distracted — I thought I saw a bit of snow fall outside.”
One of Diluc’s eyebrows shoot up at this. “Snow won’t come for another month at least.”
“Ah, I’m not too used to the weather specifics around here. It hasn’t even been a full year since I moved.” Childe takes a seat at the table, his eyes finally landing on the two enormous cups made to look rather small in Diluc’s large hands. “Woah! Did you get two larges?”
“I had to fully repay you for the large coffee you had bought me,” Diluc explains rather plainly, moving to sit across from him and sliding one of the cups Childe's way. “Where did you move from?”
Childe hadn’t expected to reveal too much of himself when the plan first came to mind, but really, with his lying streak, he’s learned that it’s much easier to sprinkle in as much of the truth as possible.
“I’m from Snezhnaya originally — moved here for work after graduating.”
Again, Childe watches as Diluc’s eyebrows lift upward — whether in shock or something else, he doesn’t know. “What do you do for work?” Diluc asks, and Childe takes a long sip of the coffee in front of him.
“Eh, nothing too interesting,” he begins, stopping for another sip, “I work in sales — for a toy company, actually.” And he’s promised himself that’s the farthest his lie will go.
“A toy company?” Diluc has an incredulous little smile on his face, and Childe grimaces back at him playfully. “Do you work with children then?”
“Ha, no.” Childe leans back in his chair now, bringing his coffee into his lap as he glances toward Diluc’s. He can’t quite decipher what type of coffee he’s ordered, but he’s shocked by the simple presence of whipped cream on top. “It’d be great to spend some time with kids instead of grumpy old farts all day. Turns out a lot of toy-shop owners are old men. You think there’s some bigger meaning behind that?”
Lying 101: Soften it with a joke.
Surprisingly, Diluc lets out a little laugh at this, and Childe smiles victoriously. “Gods, let’s hope not,” he says with another laugh. Childe watches as he pokes the whipped cream atop his coffee with the provided straw.
“I’m quite curious now,” Childe begins, pointing to Diluc’s drink. “What’s your coffee order, hmm? You blew the question off earlier.”
Diluc looks back at him almost guiltily , cheeks full of whipped cream until he gulps it all down loudly. “I don’t think I want to tell you.”
“C’mon! I told you mine!”
“Because yours isn’t embarrassing,” Diluc shoots back quickly, and Childe finds himself laughing.
“It’s a coffee order, not a deep, dark secret. C’mon, please , I promise I won’t judge.”
Diluc gives him a look, eyes narrowed with low grumbles leaving his mouth. Surprisingly, it’s the least questioning look Childe’s received from the man. “Fine. It’s a peppermint mocha,” Diluc forces out quietly — so quietly that Childe had almost missed it.
“Peppermint mocha?” Childe questions with a grin, laughing boisterously as Diluc glares back at him. “Joking, joking! A peppermint mocha is a fine choice indeed.”
“Of course it is,” Diluc actually hmmph s, and Childe lets out another laugh as he spots the furiously red blush on his ears. He watches him a bit longer — long enough to see him settle down and furrow his brows in thought.
After a moment, he clears his throat, and Childe looks at him expectantly. “So,” he starts slowly, clearing his throat once more, “are there any new movies coming out that you’re looking forward to?”
Ah, definitely not the highly anticipated sequel of the beloved Darknight Hero series starring Diluc Ragnvindr, that’s for sure.
“What’s this? Plans for a movie date already?” Childe deflects easily, sending Diluc a wink that successfully makes the man snap his gaze away, blush already reappearing. “Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing, but I’m not into movies too much. But, if it means a date with you, I’ll gladly get into them.”
Diluc’s shoulders visibly sag at his response, making Childe frown. With all of the information Signora had given him, he was sure that Diluc would test him, but he didn’t expect to feel so sorry for the man sitting across from him when he did. Just what sort of people has he run into throughout his career that has his guard so up? Where the hell is the horribly unagreeable, raging movie star that Childe was expecting?
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Diluc finally fires back, much too late and lacking all of the proper energy.
Childe gives him another smile, again shifting in his seat until he’s resting both of his elbows on the table, looking up at Diluc through his eyelashes.
“Aw, but I can’t help it when it comes to you. You’ve gotta be aware of how attractive you are, right? And, your personality is great too. Have you got any flaws?”
Diluc’s blush is back and with a vengeance as it spreads further down toward his neck. At the rate this is going, he’s sure to be as red as his hair at some point, and Childe personally can’t wait to see it.
"Well, I'm not flawless," Diluc replies eventually, accompanied by a long sip of his coffee that Childe can see right through as a blatant attempt to avoid eye contact.
Childe gives him a short laugh, drawing his attention so that he can lean up off of his chair now. His face is again probably too close for Diluc's comfort, but apparently, the man is too stubborn to back away — at least that'll work when it comes time for Signora's picture-taking.
"Flaws or not, I'm interested," Childe nearly whispers, smiling when he sees Diluc's eyes dart to his lips. He leans back once more and grins when he sees that Diluc is just a bit too slow when connecting their eyes again. "But, you know what? I don't believe I ever even caught your name. Unless, of course, you'd rather me call you gorgeous and everything else that comes to mind."
Diluc bites back a smile of his own, obviously trying very hard to keep composure — Childe allows himself to find it cute, but not without the harsh reminder in the back of his head of why he's here in the first place.
"You don't ease up on the flirting, do you?" Diluc asks instead of answering, and it would seem natural enough if Childe wasn't aware that he's stalling.
"Nope, absolutely not, pretty boy."
"Enough," Diluc chokes out, a hand coming up to rest against his nose, effectively covering his cheeks. Childe can see his eyes dart outside of the window before he finally answers, "I'm Swan." Another quick look out of the window and he finishes, "Uh, Lawrence. Swan Lawrence."
Diluc has dropped his hand back down to his coffee by now, taking another sip. At the mention of his supposed name, he's clearly begun searching Childe's expression for any hint of disbelief. Yet another test, Childe supposes.
"Swan Lawrence?" Childe questions, remaining casual despite truly wanting to ask just what kind of name that is. "Wow, what a name. Seems only fitting that a man as beautiful as yourself is named after one of the most beautiful animals."
"Laying it on real thick now, aren't you?"
"But of course, Mister Swan." Childe grins, soaking in the sight of Diluc blushing yet again. Really, it's so easy, Childe is starting to believe that all of the information he had read up on was in regards to another actor entirely.
Diluc — now Swan apparently — has his focus entirely outside of the window beside them. Childe gives himself this opening to calm down, forcibly keeping a level head about his damn mission . Just because Diluc isn't the horrible celebrity he had imagined, doesn't mean he can go back on his promise to the Tsaritsa.
He's caught staring as soon as Diluc turns back to face him, and he feels his face heat up at the simple act of Diluc's eyebrow rising questioningly. Well, so much for calming down.
"And your name?"
"Ah, my name is Childe."
"Childe?" Diluc's eyebrows furrow at the name, and Childe laughs at him.
"Yeah, like child with an E at the end. Horrible, I know." Childe pauses for another sip of coffee, nearly done with the large size now. It's better not to give away his real name. He's not sure of what connections Diluc has, so keeping Ajax and Tartalgia completely out of the equation will be his safest bet. Not to mention that all of the shitty work he's done for tabloids has been under Tartalgia, so that's definitely a no-go.
A quiet laugh escapes Diluc, and Childe gives him a pout. “Don’t worry, I’m only laughing because the name suits you,” Diluc offers with a smile, and Childe glares at him — seems like he would get along great with the Tsaritsa, who chose the stupid nickname in the first place.
“Calling me childish, Mister Swan Lawrence? I’ll be happy to prove to you just how adult I am.”
Diluc rests a hand against his face, but Childe can spot the smile still on it from the way his cheeks are lifted behind his fingers. “Gods, you’re incorrigible,” he mumbles, and Childe narrows his eyes back at him.
“Horrible? How dare you — I thought we’ve been getting along!”
“Incorrigible!” Diluc corrects quickly, both of his palms back to the table as he stares back at Childe with wide eyes. “Your flirting is atrocious, and it just keeps coming,” he’s close to whining , his head drooping until his chin rests against his chest.
Childe hones in on the deep rise and fall of Diluc’s shoulders, almost as if the man is practicing breathing exercises to remain calm — what a guy. “Well, you can always shut me up with a kiss, you know?” He teases further, reaching out and resting a finger against Diluc’s toned chest, letting it slowly drag further down.
“That! Right there!” Diluc practically squeaks, scooting back with his chair and groaning when the scraping of the chair against the floor echoes grotesquely through the coffee shop.
Childe’s snickering behind a hand by the time Diluc finishes up sending apologetic looks to the rest of the coffee shop patrons. His apologetic look is immediately replaced with a set of narrowed eyes when they land back on Childe though, which only makes him begin cackling further.
“You know what, Swan,” Childe forces between laughs, settling down to continue, “I thought you’d be pretty grumpy when I first saw you, but it turns out you’re just a shy, easily flustered little guy.”
Diluc’s ears are blazing red again, his coffee pushed to the edge of the table so that he can rest his head in his hands. Childe’s sure he would have been pulling at his hair in distress if not for some scarring publicity training that has taught him to not do just that. As he watches, he wonders whether Jean Gunnhildr has ever happened to see him this way. He guesses she hasn’t — the thought makes him smile, even if it’s an evil one.
“Gods, what will it take for you to go easy on me?” Diluc asks quietly, peeking up at Childe with both hands now intertwined underneath his chin.
Childe feels a bit of pity for the man — just a bit. The rest of him is delighted to be able to force such cute expressions out of the apparently stoic man. He puts a finger to his chin in faux thought, dragging out a few more seconds of flustered Diluc before answering: “Okay, I get it. You like to take things slow, don’t you, Swan? I’ll slow down for you, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Take me on a date.”
Diluc lifts a brow at this, finally leaning back in his chair. “That doesn’t sound like slowing down.”
“Maybe not, but I promise to keep the pick-up lines at bay if you do.”
“Deal,” Diluc answers quickly, apparently catching himself and clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Don’t tell me you’re only agreeing so that I’ll stop,” Childe teases, already fishing his phone from his pocket. He makes sure to mute his notifications before sliding it across the table — the last thing he needs is a message from Signora along the lines of How’s it going with Diluc? popping up just as the man is giving him his number.
“Rest assured, if I truly wanted you to stop so badly I’d have other ways to go about it,” Diluc says absentmindedly as he types in his phone number, and Childe perks up at the statement.
Childe takes his phone back as Diluc hands it to him, quickly saving his number under Swan to maintain appearances. “So, is it safe to assume you’re also interested?”
“Let’s let the date determine that, shall we?” Diluc gives him a small smile, and Childe narrows his eyes competitively.
“Deal.”
Diluc finishes off the last sips of his coffee, glancing out of the window before leaving his chair entirely. “I must be going now, Childe,” he offers lowly, and Childe nearly flinches at the use of his nickname. “You’ve got my number now — hope to hear from you soon.”
“It’ll be very soon.” Childe winks, standing up for a proper goodbye. “Looking forward to the date, Swan.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be seeing you,” Diluc says with one last blush, offering Childe a slight bow to his head before heading toward the door, only stopping to turn and send him a wave as he tosses their empty coffees into the bin.
As soon as he’s alone, Childe slumps back into his chair, picking up his phone to admire the new number across the screen. He keeps his head down to avoid any possible further suspicion on Diluc’s part, especially because he can faintly hear the man addressing the two suited men that had been standing outside — really all Childe can hear are frantic shush es and excited little ooh s from the mystery men.
When the coast is clear, he finally drags himself out of the coffee shop, still staring down at the new number. The first part of his mission has been a success, but he doesn’t feel very celebratory at all.
But, it doesn’t matter how he feels, not when he has a boss waiting for an update. Begrudgingly, he swipes Diluc’s number off of his screen, replacing it with the scarce messages sent back and forth with the Tsaritsa. He types out his new message and watches as it sends:
I think I’m in.