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“Or, given the way that you’re staring at me, perhaps… you’d like to get me that drink now?” Venti teases, teal eyes narrowing playfully.
There’s mirth and mischief hiding in the corners of his lips and Aether wants nothing more than to bend down and press his mouth against this pretty smile. The bard laughs as he places his cup onto the table and the sound of joy in his voice alone makes it a thousand times harder for Aether to stand still and not reach for his hand to hold.
It’s not like Aether can’t, in theory, do just that. They’ve been dancing around each other for a while now, exchanging fleeting glances and soft smiles. There’s been a sense of unspoken longing ever since they had their date on the first Windblume Festival.
They haven’t explored where this longing might lead yet. But their touches always linger for a tad too long whenever they’re close.
Parting with the bard becomes harder the more distance lies between Mondstadt and whatever new nation Aether chooses for his travels. Perhaps, this is precisely why Aether hasn't kissed him yet. If he were to know what it’s like to capture the Anemo Archon in a kiss, would he still find the strength to leave even farther away?
It seems that Venti is aware of those turbulent thoughts, too. As always.
“I, of course, would be most amenable to that…” Venti says with a chuckle. He stops for a second—long enough to find it odd, but not enough to let Aether react—and then, without missing a bit, offers him one of his usual smiles and adds calmly, “But I believe you have friends waiting for you?”
If there’s anything else the bard’s feeling, he doesn’t mention it. And yet, Aether doesn’t miss the way Venti crosses his arms, as if to protect and compose himself. And his voice is just as lovely but the tone… is almost absent.
“But I can spend time with you,” Aether says, moving to sit beside Venti, even as he can hear Paimon squeak in protest a little farther from them.
Teal eyes softening, the bard lowers his arms. For a moment Aether almost thinks that Venti might actually budge and ask for his company once more. He can’t help the way a sting of disappointment pierces his heart when Venti lets him down gently instead.
“Don’t worry! There’ll be plenty of time during the festival.”
Aether reaches out a hand to do—something, anything—but he’s worried to impose. He pursues his lips, frowning a little helplessly. Sighing, he leans closer to brush one of the braids away and peck Venti’s cheek, earning the sight of the bard blushing and the cutest giggle in return.
Even when the blond finally stands and steps back, Venti looks after Aether with the usual understanding smile on his lips as gentle and light as the comforting wind.
Paimon is at the Traveler’s side all too soon. “What took you so long?” she huffs, flying behind his shoulder. “Did the Tone-Deaf Bard rob you into buying him a drink?”
“I wish he did,” Aether sighs fondly. Venti's surprised laugh behind them makes him chuckle as well.
Paimon begins to fuss around him, tugging on his scarf to hurry up and go meet with Sucrose. The girl is already waiting for them nearby and she brightens when they deliver Venti’s words to her.
After making some notes on the riddle, they decide to check on their friends from Sumeru together. Aether has to admit, he barely joins the conversation, still too distracted from speaking with the bard. Venti’s cheek is so soft and warm, and the sweet scent of cecilias clings to his hair—
As the Traveler walks past the tavern, he tries and fails not to glance at Venti for the last time. He could have sworn Venti was watching them as well, just a second ago, the feeling of warmth from his gaze all too familiar at this point.
Aether notices then that the corner of the tavern that the bard is occupying is completely empty of the other patrons. The music from the inside can be heard all the way down the street. But it seems like Venti is not so keen on performing tonight. He is merely looking down at his cup of wine, sitting alone at the table outside.
There’s something tugging at Aether’s heart—like a sharp thorn, seeping deep into his chest, hurting and scratching.
Is the Windblume Festival truly in swing if the eyes of the Archon are dim?
He thought, a long time ago, that Venti didn’t have to introduce him to the Windblume Festival in person. He hadn't done anything Venti couldn’t have mastered on his own. Giving love advice? Collecting homework for the poetry class? It was nothing troublesome for the Anemo Archon.
Still, Venti made sure to make Aether feel included, to remind Aether that he always had a place in Mondstadt, if he wished to have it.
At the beginning of his journey, Aether recalls, he felt lost like a bird with a broken wing. Venti was the first one who took care of him, who showed him how to find joy again. Slowly, the winds guided Aether to travel to other places and connect with new people.
Then Venti let go, content to watch the bird fly freely, always waiting but not hoping for it to come back.
And now Venti spends the Windblume Festival alone, Aether realizes. What do you call an Archon who speaks of no worship? Who comforts you, and welcomes you, and cares for you selflessly and silently, afraid to rob you of your freedom?
Aether likes to think that he should call him Beloved.
The Traveler ceases his steps, forcing Paimon and Sucrose to stop as well. “Are you okay? Have you lost something at the tavern?” the fairy asks, exchanging confused glances with Sucrose.
Yes, Venti, thinks Aether. What he says instead is, “Please, go on ahead without me, I have to do something important first.”
Luckily, it seems that Aether is not the only one feeling at peace in Mondstadt, given the way Paimon only demands he comes back to the Serenitea Pot tomorrow and lets him go with little to no hesitation.
Left alone, the Traveler begins to plan. Venti is always the one making sure Aether feels loved. Aether figures it’s high time Venti himself feels this way, too.
Later that night, Aether expects to find Venti still at the tavern, the last place he was seen. When he doesn’t find Venti here, he simply moves to their usual spots. But as the night slowly slips into the early dawn and he is yet to catch a mere glimpse of Venti, the elusive bard nowhere in sight, Aether suspects… he’s being avoided. He even checks Stormterror's Lair twice, just to make sure that Venti isn’t here.
The idea of Venti actually hiding from him is ridiculous, though. While the bard does that sometimes, he never hides when the matter is of some importance to Aether. And making Venti happy is very important, Aether decides.
But catching the wind, as Aether learns, is a lot more difficult when the wind in question is the elusive Anemo Archon. The Windborne Traveler is nothing if not persistent but he still has to admit defeat as the morning sun burns his tired eyes.
It explains Aether’s startled expression a few days later, the second he looks up and notices the bard, teal eyes bright and smile cheeky, standing right next to him and Paimon.
The pair are currently resting on the rocks at the Starsnatch Cliff, tired after all that climbing. There’s a bouquet of fresh cecilia flowers hidden safely inside Aether’s bag.
“Oho, basking in the festival cheer, are we?” Venti sing-songs. “Lo and behold, my dearest devotee, for your prayers have been answered… I come bearing a blessing!”
“Tone-Deaf Bard!” Paimon waves her tiny hand, chewing on some festive snacks. “What do you mean?”
Venti’s smile turns into a mischievous grin as he begins to explain the next clue for the riddle they were trying to solve. He doesn’t sit on the rocks with them. Instead, the bard leans down with one hand against the back of the rock the Traveler occupies. He keeps standing that way, long enough for Aether to feel his own back ache in sympathy. It must be uncomfortable. Aether has to either move away or press against Venti’s side.
Venti’s eyes widen when Aether chooses to do the latter but he doesn’t protest, and soon his slightly confused expression dissolves into something… achingly tender.
Once the mystery they're investigating is solved and Paimon disappears with a flick of stars, Aether worries that Venti might walk away. But the bard stays next to him.
“I was looking for…” Aether trails off, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. For you, he doesn’t add. There’s a knot in his throat, a rare case when it comes to speaking with Venti.
“My warrior,” Venti muses, his hand playing with the tip of the long golden braid. Tilting his head to the side, he asks softly, “You seem weary. Let me lend you my shoulder?”
Closing his eyes for a moment, as if to gain strength, Aether whispers under his breath, “Actually, I’d like it if you lent me your whole self.”
Venti stutters, caught off guard.
“Huh?”
“I have something for you. Would you please… close your eyes and give me your hand?” Aether asks, expecting at least a hint of hesitance from Venti. Instead, Aether is reassured to notice the glint of curiosity and light-hearted teasing in his beautiful eyes.
“You’re full of surprises,” Venti winks, letting out a giggle. Aether observes the way his lips quirk up in an amused smile, how his gaze seems to soften. “Is it the drink you owe me, I wonder?”
“Uh-huh,” Aether clicks his tongue, poking the bard playfully. His voice lowers when he asks, “Your eyes, Venti. Just close them for me. Please?”
Slowly, Venti registers the sincere request in Aether’s words. Nodding slightly, he takes Aether’s hand in his, threading their fingers, tracing the scarred knuckles with such obvious devotion in every gesture. Aether has to avert his eyes to resist the sudden urge to kiss Venti. Again.
The cliff becomes quiet, the only sound left is the soft flutter of flowers on the wind as Venti closes his eyes. Then he hears a click, feeling something fuzzy against his cheek, the weight of it barely noticeable.
It’s a feather, Venti realizes, furrowing his brows.
Why would Aether give him a feather?
“You can look now,” Aether says, and Venti does.
Venti doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual straight away, but once his eyes flicker from the Traveler’s hesitant smile to his feathery earring, Venti realizes that it looks different. The feather is still pearly white but its tips glister with the lightest blue.
Long time ago, Venti— Barbatos gifted this feather to Aether himself.
And oh. Oh. Aether is wearing… his feather.
But then Venti’s breath hitches and he reaches a hand towards his hat, almost afraid to ruin anything. As he shifts, Aether’s feathery earring, the original one, tickles his cheek again. It looks as if it was always meant to be right here, intertwining with the cecilia flower on his beret.
“Happy Windblume festival,” murmurs Aether softly, golden eyes shimmering with warmth, and he offers his beloved Archon a bouquet of cecilias.
Venti looks up at the Traveler, eyes wide, lips parted. He accepts the bouquet slowly, not quite sure how to react yet, but still holds it like the most precious thing in all of Teyvat.
“I didn’t realize they made you the Windblume Star again, Aether.”
That earns Venti a chuckle.
“But they didn’t, Venti,” Aether adds, like a gentle reminder. “It’s the Windblume for my… beloved, if you wish to have it. Flowers of my homeland no longer exist, this is the closest thing I can offer you.”
Venti moves closer, teal eyes searching, he cups the blond’s face and falls silent. Now it’s finally Aether’s turn to wait patiently.
“It is the wind of freedom that brought you to me,” the Anemo Archon says quietly, softly, caressing the Traveler’s cheek. “But if you have decided to stay with me, I shall gladly embrace you, my dearest companion.”
Their foreheads touch. They’re so close, in fact, that Aether needs only to tilt his head and their lips would brush. That thought is so loud, so tempting, Aether has to bite on his lower lip to stay still. Venti’s eyes glaze over the motion.
They exchange a shaking inhale at the same time and freeze, both startled. Venti is the first to chuckle, with Aether following shortly after.
“Hehe, given the way that you’re staring at me…” Venti muses, a delightful tenderness in his voice that sends a sudden shiver down Aether’s spine and makes his heart skip a beat. “Perhaps, you’d like to kiss me now?”
“Yes, Archons, please,” Aether yearns to kiss Venti. He leans for a kiss but misses, instead pressing his lips to the corner of Venti’s mouth as the bard giggles, his shoulders shaking helplessly.
“Why would you call for the other Archons, my love?” teases Venti, nuzzling his nose against Aether’s cheek. “But you’re in luck. At least one of them hears your pleas.”
Venti threads his gentle fingers through Aether’s soft, blond locks. Their lips connect, finally.
Aether lets the restraint go, his hands clutching Venti's waist as he kisses his beloved God with all that he has, with all that he is, the warmth of a thousand burning suns, with a longing he's never felt with anyone else.
Venti shudders from the tender way Aether holds him. Firmly, lovingly. It feels like too much and yet like it would never be enough. The kiss goes on for what feels like eternity, only ending when Venti pulls back.
“Just so you know,” Aether whispers, licking his lips. “Our friends are waiting to celebrate with us when we return. To celebrate with you. And I still owe you that drink, don’t I?”
Breathless and flushed, Venti stares at Aether with stars behind his eyes. But the most luminous star is the one clasped in his embrace.
“You do,” Venti hums, warmth blooming in his chest. “You may give me another kiss too, though.”
Aether does just that.