Chapter Text
“Wait, ok. So you’re telling me you’ve never been on a date.”
“No. I never saw a reason to.”
“Diluc, Luc, kid c'mon you literally have half the knights in Mond falling over you.”
“They are doing no such thing. And who do you think you’re calling kid?”
Angel Share had become an… interesting place as of late. Ever since the Stormterror incident, the damn bard had been coming over more often. Even worse, it seemed to only be when Diluc was working. He wasn’t sure why, something about having a “bonding experience.” If that was the case he should go hang out with the Traveler, they were much more involved in the incident than he was.
As for today, Venti was about four and a half drinks deep when he brought up relationships, for some reason.
Venti splayed his arms across the bar, reaching towards Diluc on the other side. “Aww, come on Master Diluc, you must’ve done something in your teenage years. Or someone you had a crush on! Do people still have crushes?”
“Yes, people still have crushes. But only children call them that.”
“You’re a child.”
Diluc scowled. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Yeah, and I’m thousands of years old. So suck it.”
“If you’re a thousand years old, you should start acting it.”
Venti thought for a moment, then put on a terrifying grin. He sat up in the stool, reached over the bar, and grabbed the cup Diluc was drying.
He looked him dead in the eye. “Oh, you sure you want that? Wanna hear about the Archon Wars? About the former gods I dismembered with my own hands?”
Diluc flicked him on the forehead. “Stop trying to be scary. It’s not a good look for you. And stop touching my dishes. I don’t even want to know where your hands have been.”
Venti dropped the grin and put on a more cheerful smile. “Oh come on, cut me some slack. I don’t get to talk about my Archon days a lot.”
“I’d quite literally rather go back to relationships than talk about your Archon days.”
“Oh? What’s this about relationships?” Both the men looked to see a certain crimson-haired nun walking up to the bar.
Diluc sighed. “Sister Rosaria. Your usual?”
“You know it.” As Diluc began pouring her drink, Rosaria turned to Venti. “So what? Master Diluc got a date or something?”
“I do not have a date.”
Venti smirked. “No, but he’s definitely got a crush.”
“Excuse me?”
“What! You never denied it earlier.”
“That doesn’t mean I have a-”
“So then, who is it?” Rosaria asked, grabbing her drink from Diluc. “You’ve basically got all of Mond at your feet, so I’m curious.”
Diluc pinched his nose. “Why is everyone under the impression I’m some hot commodity? I’m not that popular.”
Rosaria scoffed through her drink. “Just how oblivious can a man be?”
Venti giggled. “Aw come on Master Diluc, tons of people like you!”
“Not really,” Diluc thought. “The only people who at least respected me were the Knights. That kind of fell apart when I quit.”
“Hm,” Rosaria began. “That may be true, but Mondstadt still respects you. You aren’t the ‘Uncrowned King of Mondstadt’ for nothing.”
“Do people really still call me that?”
“Hell yeah.”
Venti chugged the rest of his drink and slammed it down, a sight that was becoming annoyingly familiar. “And besides, you’ll always have Master Jean in the Knights,” Venti chuckled. “She couldn’t stop believing in you if it killed her!”
“Hm, that’s true I suppose.” Diluc picked up another cup absentmindedly. “I will always have Jean.”
Rosaria squinted at Diluc and put on a devilish smile. “You like Master Jean.”
Diluc looked up. “I- What? No, I don’t I-”
Venti gasped dramatically and stood up. “By the Archons you do! Oh ho ho! Now, this is some gossip I can get behind! Aren’t you childhood friends too? Is that why you’ve never had a date?!”
“If you don’t shut your mouth, you dumbass bard-”
“So you do like her,” Rosaria smirked. “Good to know.”
“No, I don’t like her I-” Diluc groaned. He leaned his elbows on the counter and took a long breath. “I respect her immensely as a leader and a friend. But I absolutely do not like her in a romantic sense. Do you two understand?”
Rosaria raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
Diluc threw a glare at her. Rosaria promptly downed the rest of her drink and slapped some mora on the table. “Well, that’s my cue. Room got too cold even for me.”
Venti spun around in the stool, his hands raised in the air. “Ah, Master Diluc is in love I see! ‘Tis such a wonderful thing. Why I may even write a song about it! Jean and Diluc sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-”
Venti was dragged upwards by a smoldering hand. “Pay your bill and get out, bard.”
“Oh no, our dear bartender seems to have gotten a bit flustered,” Venti chimed, worming his way out of Diluc’s grasp towards the door. “Perhaps I will depart to let you gather yourself. May the Anemo Archon protect you!”
A cup hurtled at him as he slipped out. “Pay your bill bard!”