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Kaeya has not had a good dream in ages.
He remembers when he was a child, when he would wake up in the middle of the night, overtaken by flashes of a past that are bound to become the future. But it was easy to forget, back then. It took nothing more than a stroke of his hair by his father—his new father—and he would be sound asleep again. And eventually, the nightmares stopped. For the most part, at least.
It’s not as easy to forget now.
All it takes is a pull of his eyepatch in the mirror, and he’s a kid again, calling out for someone who has averted their gaze. This time, however, his golden eye carries twice as much as it can carry—and it is half as strong. He used to worry that the scar inflicted upon him would never go away, but now he doesn’t want it to. He doesn’t have many things, which are constant, left.
And for too long, has Kaeya been alone.
It is but a selfish thought, of course. He knows this. After all, it’s not as if he’s really alone; he happens to be acquainted with a certain Outrider who would smack him across the face if he even dared so much as to imply it. An Acting Grandmaster who would cross her arms, and turn it into a bigger deal than it is with a lecture or two. A librarian, who would laugh and kiss his cheek. A little mischievous Knight, who loves him like the sun.
Not to mention his two very dedicated drinking buddies.
(Who are not at all that dedicated tonight.
They have ditched him.
On his birthday.
… kind of.)
Because sure, it may have been Kaeya that accepted Diluc’s invitation to the Dawn Winery last night—but it was Venti and Rosaria who were supposed to keep him from saying yes. It’s how these things go. When you see your friend who pays for your drinks about to do something extremely irrational and foolish, you say something.
And Archons, is Kaeya doing something completely foolish tonight.
It’s like a silent agreement for him not to step in Angel’s Share on this day of the year. The mornings of his birthday may be filled with wishes back in Headquarters, but the nights? They’re quiet. His apartment and a bottle of wine are all he lets himself indulge in.
But for some reason—for some stupid, absurd reason—this tradition crumbles away, like the wind away from Mond’s borders, when Diluc asks him about his plans. And then he invites him for dinner. And then Kaeya says yes.
So here he is, a day after, outside Angel’s Share, watching as the great Master Diluc struggles with locking the door.
“Are we double-locking or quintuple-locking?” Kaeya asks from Diluc’s side. He is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and his leg raised, his foot touching the wall.
Diluc, of course, does not reply. Assuming rattling the key is not considered a response, that is.
“Perhaps if you were to take your gloves off?” Kaeya offers.
“Barbatos…” Diluc mutters.
It’s barely coherent, but the sound reaches Kaeya’s ears, and he cannot help the smile that stretches across his face. He looks like the complete opposite of Diluc, who resembles someone willing to fly off Starsnatch Cliff with a broken glider.
“The key is jammed,” he says, loud and clear this time.
Kaeya hums. “I can see that.”
“You are not helping.”
“I did not mean to imply I would be.”
He should not be teasing him. Diluc is closing the tavern early for him. A decision they will both regret by the end of the night, Kaeya is certain.
“I don’t remember you being this impatient.”
Diluc’s words are quiet; almost as if this is mostly an observation for himself, if anything. But Kaeya will take it—anything to push back the silence that’s bound to linger, starting with their trip to the Winery.
“You don’t remember very well, then,” says Kaeya. “I did not think I would have to remind you who the impatient kid actually was, between the two of us.”
“Don’t.”
“If ‘Are we there yet, Adelinde?’ was an award, you would have it, that is all.”
“Hmph.”
Kaeya chuckles. It usually takes a few drinks for him to find Diluc’s grumbles amusing, but despite it all, he is in somewhat good spirits tonight. So far, that is. He has not returned to the Dawn Winery in a while—the place that’s supposed to keep him safe from… Ah. It does not matter, anymore, anyway.
What has Adelinde prepared for them, he wonders?
Now that’s a thought he would be perfectly content to lose himself in. Honey roast, pie, perhaps even a warm stew… He can feel—and hear—his stomach pleasantly turning already.
It’s an odd feeling, when his heart begins to twist, too.
The taverns are a common place for the Knights to spend their afternoons—but it is the first time Kaeya has seen this knight in particular here.
The Chief Alchemist almost looks out of place on this side of the city. He studies the tables outside the tavern as if they’re foreign, and it is only then that Kaeya realises he is coming towards them.
It’s hard to speak while pretending your heart has not just skipped over a few beats, but discretion happens to fall under Kaeya’s line of work. “Master Diluc has just closed, you know.” The door rattles. So Kaeya corrects, “Trying to.”
“The key. Is jammed.”
Diluc does not spare him, or Albedo, for that matter, a single glance. Had Kaeya not been busy trying to hold his breath, he might have laughed at his brother’s antics.
“Coming all the way from Dragonspine for a visit to the tavern, only for it to be closed,” Kaeya continues as Albedo settles in front of him. “I hope you weren’t looking for a drink, dear alchemist.”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
The exhale Kaeya lets out is nothing compared to Diluc’s snort.
(He thinks he sees Albedo smile—for just a split second, then it’s gone, but he swears he sees it, and for that, he might have to kill his brother.)
Kaeya clears his throat. “Let’s talk over there.”
He pushes himself off the wall, leaving Diluc to deal with the door—as soon as he turns his heel, he sees him taking his gloves off; oh, he knew his pride was too big for his big dumb head—and Albedo follows silently.
But his footsteps are too loud, in Kaeya’s head. The rubbing of his clothes against his sleeves, too. It’s not even the sound that bothers him; it’s his presence, and it’s everywhere, and suddenly all Kaeya can think about is how the alchemist’s lips had felt against his, mellow and warm. So clearly, he remembers it, as if it had been mere seconds ago, and not a week away—the last time he saw him, up in the mountain.
What is Albedo doing back in Mondstadt, anyway?
They come to a halt, not too far from the tavern. Diluc is still in-sight, but should they keep their voices at a moderate level, he will not be able to hear them converse.
“How may I be of assistance?” Kaeya asks, his voice wearier than he’d like.
“Help me?” Albedo asks, puzzled.
It’s then that Kaeya really notices that Albedo’s hands are full. To his surprise, it’s not for long—the little box soon finds itself pushed into Kaeya’s hold.
“Happy birthday.”
Oh.
Oh, Archons.
That night, not that many years ago, when blades clashed and fire cut through the rain and through his skin; that is Kaeya’s first thought when delicate heat takes his face now.
And Albedo is just staring.
Archons. Barbatos, archons, someone.
No one responds to his call, of course—he can almost imagine a certain bard he knows laughing from a distant statue—and Kaeya still hasn’t said a word.
“Ah, Albedo—” The name gets caught in his throat. Kaeya would rather be in the middle of battle, blinking in and out of the Abyss’ way, than have to spend another second making a fool out of himself like this. “You… didn’t have to,” is what he settles for.
Albedo seems unphased by this neverending performance of his. “I know I didn’t.”
He says it like it is the most sane, obvious matter Kaeya has ever been faced with, but somehow it’s massive—a bomb more explosive than the Knights’ little warrior.
If there is any moment in his life Kaeya has been the most grateful for his cryo vision, this is it. He is not sure it would be possible to feel this warm and still be alive without it.
“I… thank you.”
Albedo smiles.
It’s terrifying.
Kaeya does not understand. And he should—because that’s how things are, with Albedo. Kaeya points out things that shouldn’t be said, and sometimes they’re laced in gold, others they take the shape of the stars. But Albedo always picks up on it. Always balances on this path with him.
Perhaps they’ve trailed off too far, this time.
“Is Master Diluc accompanying you?” Albedo asks, pointing towards the tavern.
An apprehensive nod is all that Kaeya can manage, wincing at his own reaction. Last time he and Albedo spoke, he did not… quite present his relationship with Diluc in the most positive light. He must seem like such a hypocrite, being found like this.
He was found, Kaeya has to remind himself. Albedo running into him tonight is no coincidence—otherwise, he would not have had a present for him.
His head is starting to hurt.
“Albedo,” Kaeya begins, because he needs to say something.
But all he can manage is his name; and the next thing he knows, Albedo’s hand is on his wrist.
“I would like to see you tomorrow, if that is okay,” Albedo says, a statement that sounds more like a question.
Kaeya sighs. His arm feels like it could melt, under his touch. “Albedo.”
He wants to kiss him again. Albedo was not scheduled to be back from Dragonspine for another two days, and suddenly he’s here, for him, and Kaeya really wants to kiss him. And he would do it in a heartbeat, he thinks, had it only been the two of them.
Albedo squeezes his arm.
“I shall be off, then,” is all he says.
Kaeya fights off the urge to say his name again.
“Goodnight, Captain,” Albedo continues. “Enjoy your birthday.”
He is not sure when exactly Albedo starts to walk off, but one second he is there, and the next he isn’t.
For some reason, Kaeya notices his footsteps again. They’re light. Quiet. The way he holds himself is elegant—like a flame on a candle in a quiet night, and he is sure, this time, that Albedo does not belong to the simplicity of Mondstadt—not to mention the simplicity of Kaeya’s heart.
“I’ve never seen you this lost for words before.”
Kaeya doesn’t jump at the intervention, but he would be lying if he were to say he hadn’t forgotten about his company. So Diluc managed to fix his keys, after all.
For what feels like the hundrenth time this evening, Kaeya is not sure what to say. He feels exposed, all of a sudden—and his own silence is making him feel even more naked, and that is just lovely, isn’t it. His night with Diluc has not even begun yet, and he is already—
“You really like him, don’t you.”
Perhaps it should be a question, but it isn’t. Normally, Kaeya would not like things assumed about him, especially by Diluc of all people, but…
“Yeah.”
His voice is breathy; reserved.
“I think do.”
He cannot bring himself to look at Diluc, but he sees him with the corner of his eye, standing next to him. His brother has been shorter than him for most of their lives, but right now, Kaeya feels incredibly small.
Diluc lets his keys fall in his pocket. The clinging sound feels like it rings for ages. When it finally stops, Kaeya realises their shoulders are brushing.
“You… Uh.”
Oh, Archons. Diluc is trying to do deep talk.
It wasn’t like this, when they were kids. The truth is, when he had nightmares, the first to his aid was not Crepus Ragnvindr; it was Diluc. Diluc, who knew with only a glance that Kaeya did not want to talk about it. Diluc, who provided him with distractions until he could fall asleep again. Diluc, who always knew what to say.
Now, he barely speaks at all.
“Adelinde says birthdays should be spent with loved ones,” is what he, eventually, manages.
Kaeya bites back a comment on how ironic it is that the two of them are spending the night together, but ultimately decides this isn’t the time. (Despite everything, he still loves his brother; this is not something he can deny, even now.)
So he hums. “I remember.” Vividly, in fact. She kept repeating it, every year.
And to be fair, she had a good reason for it. When Kaeya and Diluc were little, they would spend the entire day outside, chasing crystal flies and climbing the trees around the winery. It was her way of getting them to come back inside again; couldn’t let her cakes go to waste.
Then again, it is rare for Adelinde to say something she truly doesn’t mean. Her scoldings were always laced with care.
Diluc’s shoulder presses into his.
At first, Kaeya thinks it is only a coincidence. But then Diluc does it again, a proper nudge that Kaeya can’t ignore.
When he looks at his brother, Diluc is nodding towards the direction Albedo walked off.
“What…?”
“Invite him to dinner,” Diluc explains. What? His voice lacks in both confidence and volume, so Kaeya has to do a double take. “Or… or follow after him—that is probably better.”
What?
Diluc’s implication that Albedo is one of Kaeya’s ‘loved ones,’ in Adelinde’s words, does not hit him until after he has started speaking again.
“In the end, you should spend your birthday the way you want to.”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold on—” Kaeya interrupts.
“It’s okay—”
“I—Diluc, wait.” Kaeya laughs. Nervously. The most nervous laugh he’s ever made, because what is happening right now. “Just—wait. For a minute. Wait.”
And Diluc does. Wait.
Kaeya needs to think.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the night with Albedo.
The thing about the Chief Alchemist, is that he draws Kaeya in without even realising it. If there was a way to be with him, at all times, Kaeya thinks he’d take it.
But Diluc—when was the last time he spent time with his brother?
Part of him is frustrated, to say the least. Is Diluc really trying to cancel the plans that he suggested, right now? Kaeya did not even intend to leave his apartment tonight, but now he’s all up and ready.
But there is also something tugging at Kaeya’s chest—not the butterflies he gets around the Chief Alchemist, but something off-putting. Something wrong.
Diluc doesn’t think he wants this.
And of course—of course he’d think that. They don’t do this family thing anymore, these two. They haven’t in a long time. And it’s not as if Kaeya is making this easy on him, either.
He needs to fix this.
“I know I can spend it however I want to,” Kaeya begins. “My birthday.”
Diluc remains quiet.
“And I—” Kaeya sighs. “I want to spend it at the winery.” No. This isn’t good enough. “With you,” he emphasizes. He hopes he doesn’t have to explain why as well—Diluc is a smart man, when he wants to be. “Okay?”
“… If—”
Kaeya repeats, “Okay?”
Diluc does not give him a clear response, but doesn’t oppose him either. Good—if this is all he is going to get, for now, it’s good enough.
It’s more than he deserves, anyway.
Diluc has always looked out for him, hasn’t he? When they were kids, when they joined the Knights… even now, in the tavern, with operations that don’t concern him. Even if they don’t acknowledge it, Diluc is there. (What has Kaeya given him in return?)
Kaeya almost hates himself for the comparison, but he is similar to Albedo, in that aspect. Both are prone to helping, and both have an eye for the little things. Kaeya thinks Diluc would like Albedo; or at least, he hopes so.
Ugh. Since when does he care about what Diluc thinks?
Kaeya shakes his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. That’s enough emotions for at least two months, and the night hasn’t even started yet.
“Shall we get going, then?” Kaeya asks, trying to hide the frown that forms on his face when he realises Diluc is still in his own world. “Wouldn’t want to keep Addie waiting.”
“Invite him to dinner.”
Kaeya almost cries.
“Diluc,” he says, “not again—”
“No,” Diluc interrupts. “Let me finish.”
No back at you, Kaeya almost blurts out. He doesn’t think Diluc will appreciate this right now; and besides, he wants to at least try to hear him out.
“I… meant at the winery. With us.”
Kaeya blinks.
“I know you want to go after him.” Kaeya opens his mouth to speak, but Diluc raises a finger, shutting him up. “Don’t lie to me, Kae.”
The nickname slips out a little too easily—Kaeya pretends he doesn’t see Diluc jump at his own words.
Diluc clears his throat, visibly flushed. “So I thought… maybe I could meet him too,” he mutters. “If you want.”
And—oh, he has to hold back a noise.
This is it. The exact moment the tugging at Kaeya’s chest turns into something gentle again. A sense of ease he hasn’t felt since he was but a child, playing by the grape vines.
He should say something meaningful. He wants to. But it seems words are failing him, once more, tonight, because all that comes out is, “Really?”
And Diluc nods. And he looks the other way. And suddenly the fact that he is talking to his brother, normally, for the first time in years seems a little too real.
He laughs.
“Okay.”
In return, Diluc hums. “I will wait for you by the gate.”
Although Kaeya appreciates the lack of acknowledgment for the tears that start to prickle in his eyes, he knows that Diluc sees them. Weirdly enough, he doesn’t mind.
“I won’t be long,” he tells him. They exchange a smile, and then he’s off with a hurried step.
To find the alchemist.