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Mondstadt, at night. A quiet part of town. Diluc stumbles into an alleyway, off the street where he’s left an unhappy mugger tied to a lamppost for the Knights to find later.
His breaths come out harshly. Early in the confrontation with the mugger, Diluc was stabbed on his abdomen, a lucky slash from a hidden knife. He ignored it for the few minutes it took to subdue his opponent; now, he’s lightheaded and woozy from the blood loss.
He clutches at the injury in an attempt to stem the flow of blood as he staggers deeper into the alleyway. Despite his best efforts, red drips after him. Finally, Diluc finds a stack of wooden barrels that seem safe enough to hide next to, and he lurches toward the adjacent wall in hopes of using it to brace himself for support.
Unfortunately, he trips on his feet and starts careening toward the ground instead. “Shit—!”
A hand darts out to grip his flailing arm, keeping him from keeling over. Diluc almost jerks himself away, which would most definitely have resulted in him eating cobblestone, before he registers the sound of a familiar voice. “You idiot,” it says. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Diluc grimaces and looks to his left, where Kaeya has materialized out of thin air. “Where the hell did you come from?”
Kaeya gingerly helps Diluc maneuver himself into a sitting position against the wall. “Don’t you think it’s perfect weather for a walk?” the Cavalry Captain says.
Diluc manifests a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of bandages from his Vision’s subspace as he shoots Kaeya a skeptical look. “It’s an hour past midnight. You take walks at this time of day?”
Kaeya’s kneeled down next to him. He snatches the bandages from Diluc’s hands, like a little gremlin. “You have no right to judge me, what with what you do at this time of day.”
He was going to throw those bandages at Kaeya’s head anyway. Diluc begins to unbutton the bottom part of his shirt that’s covering the stab wound, frowning at Kaeya’s words. “Don’t make it sound so weird.”
Kaeya settles down into a cross-legged position and sets the roll of bandages in his lap. He looks exasperated. “‘Lulu, you’re a vigilante. I believe you’re smart enough to know that that’s pretty fucking weird—”
Diluc curses under his breath as his fingers slip over a button yet again. “Are you here just to make fun of me?” he says to Kaeya.
“Yes,” Kaeya deadpans. He slaps Diluc’s hand away from his shirt and proceeds to unbutton it himself.
The injury is…kind of a bloody mess.
Whatever. Wouldn’t be an injury otherwise. It also looks worse than it actually is. Diluc is pretty sure the knife did not cut him that deeply.
“Yeesh.” Diluc looks up. Kaeya is wrinkling his nose. “Ever heard of putting pressure on a wound?”
Before Diluc has a chance to respond, Kaeya takes the opportunity to snatch the bottle of antiseptic out of his hands as well, nudging Diluc to hold his injury closed instead.
What does he think I am, a child? Diluc thinks at the same time as, Absolute little gremlin man. He gives Kaeya the best glare he can muster, though he does start pressing his hands against the wound.
“Don’t do that with your face,” Kaeya says. “You look like a grumpy cat. Not a cute one, though. An ugly, grumpy cat.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“You know, I could. I could pour this whole bottle—”—Kaeya taps the antiseptic with a finger as he drizzles it over a portion of bandaging—“—all over your stupid ouchie and walk away.”
“Who the fuck says ouchie at your age??”
“You just did, dumbass. Haha, gottem.”
“What does that even—what’s wrong with—you know what, I don’t want to know.” Diluc sucks in a sharp breath as Kaeya dabs at the wound’s edges with the antiseptic-soaked bandaging.
Kaeya’s movements are quick and methodical. He finishes applying the antiseptic in no more than a minute, and then he wastes no time in wrapping the wound tight with bandaging, finally staunching the flow of blood.
Diluc grabs his medical supplies back and returns them to his Vision’s subspace. Kaeya stands up, stretching himself before offering Diluc a hand.
It would be impolite to refuse it. And Diluc blames the dizziness that strikes him the second he’s back on his feet for the way he lets Kaeya sling an arm around his shoulder. For the way Diluc leans into it, indulging the peace in his heart.
He can hear the sound of their breaths in the calm of the night, punctuated by stray whispers of evening wind. Somewhere in the main square, the city is still awake, storefronts lit, taverns full and vibrant. The chatter of the crowds on the boulevards audible if you strain your ears. But here the streets are empty, the windows dark, the stars shimmering faintly above.
Inexplicably, it reminds Diluc of a time when it was just them against the world.
Then he realizes Kaeya is going the opposite direction of where Diluc is expecting. Absolutely, the moment is gone.
“Where are you taking me?” Diluc asks. He shifts his weight onto his heels, stopping them both in their tracks. He’d flail around too, if he had the energy for it.
“Uh, one of the Church’s clinics?” Diluc can feel Kaeya’s side-eye, even though he can’t see it. “You know, your wound needs more cleaning than a little antiseptic—I wouldn’t be surprised if the monastics say it needs stitching too—”
“It does not need stitching,” Diluc says. “It’s not that deep. I—that’s not the point. The point is you can’t take me to the Church.”
“You’re injured. The Church offers free healthcare. Can you not add two and two—”
“I can’t go to the Church. It will look suspicious. They’ll ask me how I was injured—”
“If you didn’t want to look suspicious, you shouldn’t be so suspicious—”
“You’re mean. You’re such a meanie,” Diluc says.
Kaeya sighs very loudly. “Well, what’s your plan then, genius?”
“Just bring me around to the back of Angel’s Share. The place is stocked with medical supplies. Even though I don’t need stitches.”
“Angel’s Share is on the other side of the city,” Kaeya says in his explaining things to tiny children voice, which Diluc thinks is a bit unnecessary. “And we’d need to take a roundabout way if you want to avoid the people still in the main square, which—if you don’t even want to go to the Church—will make you look way more suspicious, and you’re in no condition to walk that much.”
“What’s your plan then, genius?”
“I told you already, we go to the Church—”
“I can’t go to the Church—”
“Fine! Fine,” Kaeya huffs. He drags Diluc off his heels to turn them away from the direction of the clinic. But he doesn’t start walking toward Angel’s Share, either.
Diluc furrows his brows. “Where are we going now?”
“To my apartment,” Kaeya says. “You know it’s nearby. It has medical supplies too. And there’s no one to judge you for being weird. Except myself, but I have always judged you for being weird, because you are weird—”
“Asshole—”
“—so you shouldn’t have any objections. Right?”
Diluc grumbles nonverbally before relenting. “No objections.”
“Thank Vennessa,” Kaeya says. “You know, I was about to leave your ass in the streets.”
“Meanie.”
“You need to work on your insults.”
They lapse into a silence that lasts until they reach the inside of Kaeya’s apartment.
“Why is your house always such a mess?” Diluc says upon entering, immediately zeroing in on the clutter filling every available tabletop in Kaeya’s living room. Why does Kaeya have so many stacks of notebooks? Why does he have ten million pens? Why is there an entire set of cereal cartons on the coffee table—?
“Why is your life always such a mess?” Kaeya pulls Diluc into the adjacent bathroom and sits him down on a low stool next to the sink.
“Like your life is any better—”
“Your face is a mess.” Kaeya washes his hands. “Mine, on the other hand, is perfect—”
“You—” Diluc sighs. He watches Kaeya fetch a basin from the corner of the room. When Kaeya makes eye contact with him, Diluc points at all the empty cups on his sink counter. “Like this, do you just never do your dishes?”
“I have a system,” Kaeya says as he turns the faucet in his tub on and sets the basin under it. “A method to cleanliness. One that must not be disturbed. Which is why I have to say: you’ve got to stop cleaning this place after you drop me off when I’m drunk. It takes me forever to find my favorite pair of pants afterward.” He goes back to where Diluc is sitting and kneels down.
“Well, I’m not sorry—”—Diluc winces as Kaeya peels away the bandages around his torso—“—because your sense of fashion is atrocious.”
“Says the person whose wardrobe is the most monochrome thing in existence.”
“There is nothing wrong with black and white.”
Kaeya discards the bloody bandages and goes to fetch the basin, along with a few towels and a bar of soap. “You,” he says, pointing the soap at Diluc, “are the most boring person on this continent.”
“At least I don’t look like a peacock.”
Kaeya scrunches his face up exaggeratedly. “‘At LeAsT I dON’t LoOk LiKe A pEaCoCk,’” he squawks out before smoothing out his expression and starting the process of washing Diluc’s injury.
Diluc stares at him. “What the fuck was that.”
“Wasn’t it obvious? I was mocking you. Mockingly. In a mocking tone of voice.”
Diluc continues to stare at him. “There is something deeply wrong with you.”
“No you.”
Kaeya spends a few minutes washing the wound. When he’s finished, he hands Diluc a clean towel. “Hold it closed,” he instructs Diluc. Then, he hops up and sprints…to the other side of the room, where he flings open the door to the cabinet sitting there, grabs a medical kit, and sprints back. It is like ten feet away. Diluc doesn’t even know how he made it look like he was running in three strides.
“Why,” Diluc says.
“‘Why’ your face,” Kaeya says. Then, “I am going to stitch your ouchie and you will not complain.”
“I already told you that I don’t need stitches,” complains Diluc.
Kaeya ignores him and takes out the tissue forceps, suturing needle, and thread from the kit. He makes a gesture whose meaning Diluc can’t make heads or tails of.
Diluc stares at him again.
“Give me one of your hands,” Kaeya says exasperatedly.
Diluc holds out a hand, keeping the other on his injury. Kaeya puts the suturing supplies on his palm. “Uh huh,” Diluc says, still not getting it.
“Use your Pyro Vision to sterilize the materials,” Kaeya says. “Do you not do this when stitching yourself?”
Diluc blinks. “I just wipe things down with antiseptic,” he says as he summons fire to his hand.
“Well, I’m going to do that too.” After Diluc lets the fire fizzle out, Kaeya summons a plate of ice to his palm and holds it out. Diluc glances at him before setting the heat-sterilized supplies on top, the ice hissing as hot metal melts through a thin layer. “But you should do both. To decrease the chances of infection. Especially since you’re so insistent about not going to the Church.”
Kaeya dematerializes the ice in his hand. As he said he would, he wipes the cooled supplies all down with antiseptic. Then—he hesitates. A rare shadow of uncertainty across his face.
Diluc has to keep himself from shifting on his seat. Stab wound, he reminds himself. “…Kaeya?”
“I know you’re probably going to decline,” Kaeya begins. “But I still should ask. Do you want to drink some hard alcohol to dull the pain? I don’t really have any other kind of pain reliever on hand.”
Ah. “No,” says Diluc. “I’ll be fine.”
He bites his hand while Kaeya stitches him up. It’s fine.
Finally, Kaeya says, “All right, it’s done.”
Diluc hums and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes. He listens to Kaeya clean up around him until there’s a hand tugging on one of his arms. “Come on, ‘Lu; I can’t let you fall asleep right here,” Kaeya is saying.
“Mm,” is Diluc’s response. Kaeya tugs on his arm again. “I can get up by myself,” he tries to say, although it comes out more like, “Can ‘et u’by’sself.”
“Just lemme splash some water on my face,” Diluc mumbles, hand grasping the side of the sink as Kaeya pulls him up.
He has to lean himself against the sink a few moments to wait for black spots to stop dancing in his vision. Then turns the faucet on and rinses his face. Glances at Kaeya, who has his arms crossed.
“What?” Diluc says.
“Huh? Nothing,” Kaeya says, holding his hands up.
“No, what??” Diluc says.
“Nothing, nothing!” Kaeya says, almost laughing. It is absolutely not nothing. “Really. Let’s just go to sleep. It’s late enough, and you need to rest.”
Right. “Okay, okay,” Diluc says. “I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Kaeya gives him a look. “You’re in no condition to walk anywhere right now.”
Diluc glances away and tugs at one of his sleeves. “I think I could manage.”
“…You can just take the guest bedroom.”
Diluc continues to tug at his sleeve. “Are you…?” Are you sure you’re okay with that?
“You can go back to Angel’s Share if you really want to. I’ll make sure you don’t pass out along the way. But Diluc…”
Something in the way Kaeya pauses makes Diluc look back at him. He is hesitating, again, brows furrowed, gaze far away—where, exactly, Diluc doesn’t know. He’s never known, not really.
“…I’m tired,” Kaeya says. Diluc gets the distinct feeling he’s not only talking about tonight. “Aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Diluc says, throat clogged with some emotion. “I am.”
So, wordlessly, Diluc lets himself lean on Kaeya’s shoulder again till they reach the guest bedroom. Kaeya eases him onto the bed and stands there for a few seconds. Then, Kaeya gives Diluc a small smile. They exchange goodnights. And Kaeya heads off to his own room.
Maybe it should feel momentous. Sleeping under the same roof again after so long.
But it doesn’t.
It just feels like coming home, after a long day.
(You wake up to the sound of sizzling and humming. You don’t recognize your surroundings right away, but you’re not scared, because something deep within you recognizes the voice that’s humming as good and safe.
You remember where you are. You get up and find your sibling cooking breakfast in the kitchen, a simple meal of toast, eggs, and coffee. The song he is humming is something your late mother used to sing to you—something you used to sing to him, in turn, when she was gone and he was there.
There’s not much to talk about, this early in the day before the two of you head off to work. But that’s fine.
You’re home.)