Archive of Our Own

Were the Traveler and Paimon always so blissfully ignorant?
Prancing about throughout Teyvat on a mission he had heard mostly in passing, while she was a fearsome lioness on the battlefield, the Traveler was lacking in spatial awareness at times.
He envied that.
Envied her ability to not be constantly aware of watching eyes with foul intentions and ever-sharpening knives that would love to make a comfortable home in between the spaces of his ribs.
Even here, in the land of wisdom, where he had only visited once before, keenly was Kaeya aware of his space at all times.

Whether it be the merchant who studied with particular interest the Vision glittering upon his hip, or the Eremite mercenary making visible note of the location of his eyepatch and the according blind spots ready to be manipulated, he noted them all.

Especially one man who failed to even try to blend in with the crowds.
Not with that ridiculous popped collar and eyes that screamed of an ancient ancestry.

"I wasn't lying when I said I would buy you a drink."

Smile as coy as his silken words, Kaeya gripped the back of the wooden chair closest to his person to partly lean over it.

"For a man of mystery, you're easy to find."

That, and the mystery-veiled Dainsleif was a sore thumb here in the land of ancient forests and sweeping deserts. Cloaked in dark blues and with blond hair so golden it rivaled that of the Traveler's, here in a secluded corner of Lambad's Tavern, there was no dark and creeping shadow great enough to conceal such a striking figure from the curious, wayward glances of passerby.
Using his grip on the chair in hand, Kaeya pulled it out, and sat himself down without waiting for Dainsleif's invitation or rejection.

Frankly, it was difficult to tell what the man was even thinking.
The star-decorated gaze that leveled with him revealed nothing, and his expression never seemed to shift from a mildly disgruntled look.

Honestly, it was a bit cute.
Perfectly balanced, in fact, with his sense of irritation with this man's brooding theatrics.

"I never claimed to be keeping myself hidden," Dainsleif grunted in answer, and met Kaeya's intrusion upon his quiet moment with what Kaeya assumed to be a surveying glance of suspicion, and rightfully so.

Ignoring his remark, Kaeya lifted a hand to alert a passing member of staff.

"Two coffees, please."

"No alcohol today?"

What a smart mouth this man had on him.
Looking back with a smile, visible eye crinkling, Kaeya chuckled.

"Ah, you really must be keeping excellent track of me, Mr. Mystery. No, I want to spare my liver today–and I want to keep a rather clear head to remember everything we're about to discuss."

Brow arching, Dainsleif leaned back in his seat, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Here I thought you were simply too busy to stay and chat the other day," Dainsleif remarked, and Kaeya, again, smiled and shook his head.

"You see, I was , in fact, busy that day. That, and after that particular surprise you dropped into my lap, I didn't want to burden the Traveler with all of the drama that would ensue." Kaeya shrugged helplessly, as if these were all things out of his hands to control. "But I have plenty of time now, and I know that you do, as well."

Leaning closer in, ponytail brushing against the tabletop, Kaeya's single eye narrowed sharply in its careful evaluation of Dainsleif, who gave nothing in return.

"You know quite a bit about my family's ancestry, apparently. I would absolutely love to pick your brain on what you know."

To the ignorant listener, Kaeya's words sounded innocent, serene in tone.
But to the keener eye, there was a particular intensity behind his phrasing, the manner in which he stared Dainsleif down, and how his hand now gripped the edge of the table.

All of these factors appeared to be picked up by Dainsleif himself, who looked away, studying instead the waitstaff approaching with their coffees.

"And what do I get in exchange?"

As the waiter approached, Kaeya leaned back, allowing them to quietly and quickly arrange their coffees, a pitcher of milk, a cup of sugar cubes, and step away to return to the kitchen.

"Well, for one, this coffee, which no need to thank me for, I am simply that generous of a man. But the greatest gift of all that you will receive is the peace of mind that, in exchange for answering my questions, you can get to know that this Alberich clan member is no demon among men."

Eye shutting with a bright smile and a tilt of his head, Kaeya proceeded on to draw his coffee on its saucer closer to his person and selected the largest chunks of sugar to drop into the steaming mug.

"Don't worry, I know I am, perhaps, one of the last people you'd consider trusting. An Alberich clan member, perhaps one of the last, asking for a run-down of his family history? Sounds like a maniac about to go running about causing chaos in the name of the old bloodline, right?"

Dainsleif remained silent, which bothered Kaeya none.
A small pour of milk was added to the coffee, and he watched the color of it lighten as it swirled in.

"You see, I was not lying back there. Mondstadt is my home now. My family, my life, my… everything , cheesy as that is. I do not say this lightly that I will choose Mondstadt first no matter what the future may hold, for Mondstadt took me in at my lowest point." His coffee was slowly stirred, and with three ringing taps of the metal spoon on the edge of the mug, he set it aside upon the edge of the saucer. "If there is any possibility of some fool dreaming of godhood prancing into my home and sabotaging what I have rightfully earned after all these years, well, I'll be quite upset."

Kaeya's frigid eye lifted, glinting like a chunk of ice in the tavern's low-lighting.

"So, pardon me if I am a bit blunt, but if there is any information you are withholding from me that could aid me in protecting Mondstadt, I won't be particularly happy with you."

A beat of silence, then two, and finally, Dainsleif snorted, eyes fluttering shut and shaking his head.

"I heard rumors of what the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt's knights was like, but what a lucky man I am to experience it firsthand," remarked Dainsleif, tone dry as he finally reached out to his own coffee.
Side-eyeing the selection of sugar and milk, he opted to sip it straight.
"... Fine. But don't be disappointed if I don't have all the answers you seek.”

The coffee cup was returned to its saucer with an audible ‘clink’. 

“The Alberich clan… were not a sort I interacted with often. Our worlds existed parallel to one another and rarely intersected, and when they did, we performed our separate duties and maintained our boundaries.”

Kaeya studied Dainsleif and how his brow furrowed in thought, the look of quiet concentration upon his face as he visibly drew back into the deep well of his memories to recall the information that Kaeya sought of him. 

How much would a 500-year-old man remember?

The elderly of Mondstadt were either quick as a whip in their steel-trap recollections, or, by the end of their time upon this cruel mortal plane, they were lost and wandering, their minds eroded by the cruelty of time’s onward march. 

But that was within the bounds of a normal human lifespan. 

To what extent did such a lengthened life damage one’s mortal memory? Could he recall every moment of his days in sharp, distinctive clarity, or was it like trying to peer into a murky pond, seeing only so much below?

Thankfully, for all of his staring, Dainsleif didn’t seem to notice, far too preoccupied with his thoughts. 

“When I first discovered the Alberich clan was behind the Abyss Order, it was an unbelievable thing. But hearing Chlothar’s reasoning…”

Frowning, Dainsleif pondered his own reflection in the dark cup of coffee. 

“I know only approximately more than you. I am constantly operating off of theories and speculation that may lead to answering one question, but create a dozen more. I am not the all-knowing source you expect me to be.”

Lips pursing, thinking for a beat, Kaeya sighed.

“You remind me of a bit of a sad, old dog,” he remarked, and in turn, earned his first bewildered look from Dainsleif, a refreshing break from his usual stern stare. 

Laughing at this break in character, Kaeya grinned. 

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected too much from an old man. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t start spinning a tall tale for me, exaggerating some story of old, just like the other old folks I talk to…”

As Dainsleif’s expression grew increasingly indignant with every word, Kaeya couldn’t keep it up. 

With a snort, covering his laughter behind a hand, he shook his head. 

“Sorry, sorry. You’re simply too easy to give a hard time.”

Irritating as Dainsleif was with all of his aura of mystery and gloom, when he could not help but break free of it and look a little human, Kaeya found himself charmed. 

But only mildly so. 

“I understand,” Kaeya began, straightening up and assuming a more serious tone of voice, “that perhaps now wasn’t a good time to go about asking for anything… but, let me propose to you a new deal.”

A break was taken to enjoy another drink of his coffee—ah, Sumeru certainly knew how to work with spice to make an excellent drink—and when settling it back down, his gaze leveled with Dainsleif. 

“Let us continue to convene and discuss what you have learned. I feel it is a fine enough deal for the both of us—I will learn more of how I can better protect Mondstadt and be prepared for what the future may bring, and you can use me as a living wallet. How does that sound to you, Mr. Mystery?”

“Please,” Dainsleif interjected, a hint of exhaustion to his voice, “just use my name, none of this nickname nonsense.”

In spite of his obvious exhaustion with Kaeya’s teasing, Dainsleif seemed to take great pause in order to consider his suggestion. 

Kaeya, in his opinion, felt it too good to let go of. 

How, precisely, did a man from an ancient civilization find the Mora to feed himself? Presumably he did still need to eat based off of his continued enjoyment of beverages and snacks within the presence of both himself and the Traveler, even if he could not die from the resulting starvation. 

The thought of Dainsleif, struggling to fill a starving void that would press him to the brink of death, but never allow him to fall into its embrace, was enough to bring Kaeya’s smiling face to a falter, pity swimming up to consume his thoughts.

All was quickly washed away with a renewed focus on his goal, and he looked upon Dainsleif with stern intent, prepared to continue his persuasion if needed. 

"Fine."

Kaeya blinked, unable to veil his surprise in time.

"I suppose it will not hurt to share my findings. Though how, pray tell, do you intend on finding me?"

There was an unspoken implication in that first sentence that Kaeya heard clear as day.
I suppose it will not hurt to share my findings, and keep an eye on you.
Clever man was thinking one step ahead, never fully trusting, always keeping a close, monitoring eye on all possible variables, and that was something Kaeya could not fault him for.
They were similar creatures in that regard.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," Kaeya replied with a sweet, saccharine smile.
"That is for me to know, and for you to always wonder."

With their deal finalized, while Kaeya briefly thought of extending a hand to shake on it, he had a feeling that Dainsleif would eye it like a venomous snake before ever touching it. Instead, he downed the remainder of his coffee, tidily wiped at his mouth with the provided cloth napkin, and stood up, pushing back his seat and smiling down at his wary-eyed companion.

"I will go ahead and save us both the trouble and bid you farewell first. My agenda is quite packed, after all, and I best not dawdle."
Unfortunately, he was here in Sumeru partly on business, partly for pleasure.
And he was all out of time to be gallivanting about any longer.
"'Til we meet again, Dainsleif."

With a small salute, Kaeya whisked away to the front counter to pay off their tab, and then leave for the remainder of the evening.
All the while, he felt Dainsleif's eyes watching him.
Studying him.
Like one of Albedo's specimens kept captive under a microscope, Kaeya felt similarly studied in a scientific, analyzing manner, as if by looking alone, Dainsleif would be able to pry apart any secrets kept close to his heart.

Alas, no amount of staring would reveal the answers either of them sought.
All Dainsleif could get in exchange for burning holes into Kaeya's back with those diamond eyes was a smile, a wave, and a playful little bow before he walked out the door.

Perhaps it was naive of Kaeya to believe that this mutually beneficial would last and not rightfully burst into flames, for what good was to come from two sinners conspiring together?

But if it was only them–these two world-weary, unfortunate sinners–who else could they rely upon more intimately than any other?

It was many months before Kaeya next met Dainsleif.
Deliberately chosen, he concluded by himself that likely, Dainsleif would not be making any grand or amazing discoveries in a span of a couple of weeks. Thus, a mental calendar was arranged, and whenever Dainsleif would pass through Mondstadt, Kaeya would appear.

As promised, he never revealed how he figured out Dainsleif was.
Whether it was their first encounter by Stormterror's Lair, or the following some time in the depths of winter overlooking a hilichurl camp out in the Mondstadt wilds, Kaeya never failed to make an appearance.

Over a period of time, their discussions slowly opened up.
Sometimes, if Kaeya was ever so lucky to catch Dainsleif in a particularly generous mood, it would be Dainsleif who would begin speaking first, informing Kaeya of what he had learned, and giving him a glimpse into the travels of the Twilight Sword and the mission he pursued.
An air of mystery still remained, but with each and every meeting, it seemed the veil was pulled back that much more.

By their fourth encounter, Dainsleif no longer was so tight-lipped and wary, but still rightfully cautious of where they spoke and who was around them during their discussions.
By the fifth, it seemed Dainsleif was far more than acclimated with their little song and dance, as wherever he was, Kaeya discovered him to always be patiently waiting for his arrival, expectantly looking for where he may appear.
Admittedly, Kaeya, too, looked forward to these encounters.

When not cold and withdrawn, Dainsleif was an excellent conversationalist. Disregarding his occasionally foggy memory and moments of quiet, concentrated thinking, he was otherwise pleasant, engaged, and had a plethora of wisdom from different points of time.
It seemed he lacked any awareness of the intrigue another would have to hear from an immortal and all the things they have seen—both the beautiful, and the ugly.

Arrogant as it may have sounded, Kaeya felt that his company, too, must have been enjoyed by Dainsleif.
After all, who could resist the charm of the one and only Kaeya Alberich?


Soon enough, their meetings grew more frequent.
Perhaps this, too, was his foolish, naive thinking, but Kaeya felt as if Dainsleif was making more of an effort to be in Mondstadt.
Sometimes, he would find him before one of his informants did, and he would wonder—was he deliberately staying out in the open in the hopes of a chance encounter?
Other times, Kaeya would find himself stopping in the midst of Mondstadt's bustling heart, and think he saw him–a flash of blond hair, a dark cloak–and forget what it was he was doing to look.
Never was it Dainsleif, and always did he end up having his fellow knights looking at him oddly.
Acting Grandmaster Jean even once remarked upon how dazed he had become, and he had quickly dismissed it as the exhaustion of being simply too popular.

By the tenth time, it was Dainsleif who sought him out.
When remaining in what had become their usual spot—a cliff overlooking Stormterror's Lair, where Dainsleif had quietly spoken of Old Mondstadt's journey in becoming the city of freedom it was in the modern day—he noted that never did Kaeya come to find him.
As the day slowly crept to evening, easy as it would have been to assume he had been left high and dry, Dainsleif felt that was… wrong.
Any other may have reasoned Kaeya was preoccupied, or simply forgetful, but like clockwork, their meetings had become routine, ritual, ingrained in both of their daily lives.

Never had this occurred before.
Not once had Kaeya been laid, or blown him off, and to that end, much as he did not care for entering Mondstadt's city walls, he ventured onward in search of him.

His instincts had rarely ever led him astray, and on this day, in this twilight hour, he chose to have full faith in them.

Such faith became more and more grounded as he looked to their other usual avenues. First, the quiet spot by Mondstadt's cursed cathedral, where none of the patrolling knights had seen their Captain, nor could recall his presence at their headquarters.
Next, the exterior of the Angel's Share, and then inside of it, where Charles, their usual bartender, noted the unusual fact that Kaeya was not there enjoying himself, especially since they had just received more stock of Death After Noon.

On the verge of running out of spots to check, Charles stopped him, and mentioned one additional spot—the Cat's Tail.

When he and Diluc had particularly bad spats, Charles had said, in a hushed voice as though his master may pounce upon him from the shadows for speaking so openly, I remember he would go there for his nightly drink.

So, to the Cat's Tail Dainsleif went.
While he had heard that this particular tavern was always popular for its disgruntled bartender's fantastical drinks, in recent months, he had heard that it had become the central point for some popular card game.
Kaeya had mentioned it off-handedly, joking that with his poker face, Dainsleif would be an excellent player–but as he stepped inside, greeted by meowing cats and the clinking of drinks, the furthest thing from his mind was some silly game.

"Oh, thank Barbatos!"

Before a word could be spoken, a woman sprung out from behind the counter and practically rushed him.

"Wait, hold on–"

"Nope, no mister, no holding on. I've seen you around before," she began, speaking swiftly as she grabbed him by the bicep and led him onward, navigating through the tavern's numerous tables and chairs and dodging wait staff with ample ease, "and I remember you and Captain Kaeya always looked so close. I'm assuming you're here for him, yes?"

Blinking in wide-eyed, owlish surprise at how deftly she figured him out, Dainsleif cleared his throat and nodded his affirmation, which the woman, in turn, nodded as well in a knowing fashion.

"He's been holed up here since the morning, and I've been worried sick."

Since… the morning?
Dainsleif frowned, noting the several odd points from that single sentence.
Kaeya had always been an enjoyer of drinks, but never so early in the day, and never for the entirety of the day. It was nighttime that he came to haunt the Angel's Share, and he even recalled him making some humored remark that were he to become a day drinker, he'd never hear the end of it from the Acting Grandmaster.

They finally stopped at the back of the tavern in front of the private rooms presumably available for rent by groups who did not wish to partake in the tavern's noisy, boisterous heart.
Glancing between the door and Dainsleif, the woman sighed.

"Much as I love the Captain's patronage, I don't love seeing himself drink away into an early death, and I don't love not being able to help. Since you're here, I can only assume you can do something for him, right?"

Dainsleif opened, and then shut his mouth, visibly still catching up with all of the information flung at him.
But, after a beat, he collected himself, and nodded, matching the woman's quiet tone.

"I will… do my best. And your name is…?"

"Margaret." She smiled, bright. "The one and only owner of this beautiful establishment. But the place doesn't stay pretty when it is full of sad people, so, go and work some magic for me, please."

Without an extra moment to gather up his composure nor additional tips of what was going on, the door was opened, and Dainsleif pushed through, stumbling forward to the sound of a distant good luck as the door clicked shut.
Standing there, stiff and awkward, he immediately saw what had been causing Margaret such discomfort.
Slumped over the table, surrounded by a myriad of emptied bottles and glasses, likely kept flowing by the waitstaff until told otherwise, Kaeya looked like a husk of himself. There was none of the bravado, the confidence, the constant aura of being always in control.
The man before him was a broken shell.

His suffering is not yours to bear , was the first thought to spring to mind as he stared at him, locked in place.
You can walk away, and end this deal. The weight of this lost soul was never for you to carry.

For a beat, he considered it.
Considered turning around, quietly opening the door, and walking away from Mondstadt and in turn Kaeya, and leave him to whatever fate had decided for him.

But he remembered how keenly Kaeya had listened to him as his drew away from the primary topic of conversation in past encounters, how he never seemed to mind as he spoke more and more as the memories came flooding back, and he could not help but speak them aloud in detail so that perhaps, just maybe, they would not evaporate into thin air again.
How his laughter sounded when he spoke of his old days as a knight-in-training, and their connection in serving their respective nations.
The way he smiled at him in so many different ways, and how, by the end of their meetings, rather than dreading being hunted down to be fleeced for information, he looked forward to a break from this lonely isolation.

Dainsleif sat down next to Kaeya in the soft, cushioned booth, and the other startled, finally seeming to realize he had company.

"Oh, Dainsleif."
Face reddened–by embarrassment, or too much to drink?--as he looked at him, Kaeya gave him a lop-sided smile.
Dainsleif could not find himself enjoying this particular smile, not like the others.
The melancholic edge it bore stung, like needles being jabbed into a heart he thought he had long fortified years ago.

"Shit, I thought maybe, if I… if I hid here, you wouldn't have t'find me in this state."

With a cold, empty laugh, Kaeya side-eyed his messy table and sighed, slumping back against his seat.

"I'd understand if you'd… want nothing to do with such a mess of a man. What kind of pitiful fool like me can do–do fuck-all against the forces of evil? "

"I never would have thought that," Dainsleif stated, and Kaeya seemed surprised by this.
But soon he snorted, shaking his head as he shut his eye.

"You're… such a chivalrous sort, Dain. A real knight, through and through. Were you like this back then, too? Or am I special?"

"Why are you so upset?"

Blunt and to the point, but not intending harm, Dainsleif firmly steered the conversation back to Kaeya without any sugar-coating, and Kaeya, eye opening back up, side-eyed him for a long moment, before sighing.

"A guy can't drunkenly flirt with a cute man of mystery in peace, huh," Kaeya quietly lamented, and while Dainsleif could easily fixate on that ever-so-casual utterance, he did not allow it.
Patiently did he sit instead, expression serious and resolute in waiting until Kaeya broke on why he had fallen to pieces, and seeming to sense this, Kaeya relented, and looked away in seeming embarrassment.

"... Today, of all days, I wish I could just… just stay home, but I can't handle the quiet," softly Kaeya began.
His hands fidgeted with his gloves, his fingernails, the fabric of his fitted pants.
"I know you did your homework, Dain, but guess you wouldn't be all-knowing. Today… today was…"

Words struggling to come out, as if it would solidify the reality of them, Kaeya fully looked away, embarrassed and not wanting Dainsleif to witness the tears to come.

"My father died on this day."

Hesitating for a moment, a cold, broken laugh spilled from Kaeya, and Dainsleif felt its chill straight to his bones.

"Or should I–should I specify my adoptive father? I always hated that, hated… hated feeling so different from Diluc whenever that came up. He was just as much my father as his. My 'real' father may as well as be the imposter."

"Kaeya–"

Audibly sniffling, when Dainsleif reached out, Kaeya jerked away the instant fingertips brushed against his arm, but in tandem, he looked back.
With a proper look at him, Dainsleif saw how red and puffy his one, visible eye was.
Face tear-stained and reddened from a long day of crying, he looked far from the confident, self-assured man he had met time after time.

Quickly again did Kaeya try to turn away, but Dainsleif doubled down, grabbing his forearm, and holding firm.

"Please," Dainsleif said, impossibly soft, and Kaeya, tentatively, looked back, "I… am sorry. I knew that your father had passed, but the day…"

Kaeya smiled, helpless.

"Why would you know the day? You said it yourself. You're not all-knowing."

Hesitating, looking from Dainsleif, to the hand on his arm, without any verbal indication of his intentions, Kaeya chose to sidle over, and to Dainsleif's great surprise, he buried his face into his shoulder, nestling himself against his frame.
Rather than repulsed or disgusted, Dainsleif found himself… Sorrowful.
A slow warmth spread through him, and before he could reconsider, he had wrapped an arm around Kaeya's gently trembling frame, and held him close.

"Some days, I can barely remember what he sounds like. Others, his face is so blurry in my memories. I… would do anything to–to hear him, just one more time. Saying everything is okay."

"I'm sorry," Dainsleif murmured, and Kaeya, safely hidden against Dainsleif, broke, weeping.
Without anything else he could summon forth to say, knowing best that no one word could amply heal a grief that could not be erased by anything, Dainsleif simply remained put, holding Kaeya, and allowed him to cry as long as he wished.

He did not know how much time had passed when Kaeya's weeping slowly transformed to sniffling hiccups, and eventually, quieted altogether.
What remaining sunlight peering in through the grand windows of the room had left by that time, and when glancing over, he could see the moon beginning to rise over the distant mountains.

"... Can you take me home?"

Nearly startled by the first words spoken by Kaeya since he had begun to hold him, Dainsleif did not hesitate.

"Of course."

Likely to the great relief of Margaret, Dainsleif did not dawdle in his fulfillment of Kaeya's request. Caring not for curious stares and open curiosity, one of the staff was kind enough to quietly point them to a back exit to minimize how many wandering eyes would lay sight upon their heartbroken Captain.
From there, Kaeya, while less sure on his feet than usual, was a surprisingly clear-minded drunk as he provided quiet direction to his modest apartment provided by the knights all the while keeping so close to Dainsleif, he could have been a second shadow.

Fumbling for his key, it took Dainsleif's gentle, steady hand to assist in unlocking the front door.

Somehow, Dainsleif had not anticipated his home to be so… meticulous.
After seeing the state of Kaeya back at the Cat's Tail, some part of him had expected his home to be equally messy with liquor bottles everywhere, trash wherever he felt, but such was far from the truth.
Kept clean, tidy, and decorated with modest furnishings, the front entryway even looked recently swept, and the sitting room was well-organized.

Barely managing to slip out of his boots, on weary feet, Kaeya thumped down onto the sofa, and after following suit in discarding his shoes, Dainsleif quietly followed.

"Can…" Kaeya tentatively began, peeking up from where he was on the sofa, "can I… can you stay with me, until I fall asleep…?"

Broken, vulnerable, exposed, Kaeya seemed prepared for rejection by how visibly tense he was.
Dainsleif did not answer him.
Instead, he carefully settled down on the portion of the sofa not already occupied, and looked at Kaeya with quiet expectation.

For the first time since they had met, Kaeya blushed.
With his naturally dark skin tone, it was somewhat difficult to discern, but with the faintest rosey dusting upon his cheekbones just barely seen through the darkness of the room, it was unmistakable once recognized.

Quiet, careful, Kaeya shifted, and soon, Dainsleif found his head on his lap as he curled up against him.
Cautious, like handling porcelain, his hand settled gently upon Kaeya's head, and watched his eye shut as he began to stroke his hair, slow and methodical, until he heard Kaeya's breathing deepen as he slipped away into sleep.

In the peaceful quiet, with Kaeya long lost to slumber, Dainsleif supposed that he would not mind this moment lasting for eternity.

Dainsleif did not quite know when he had fallen asleep.
Whether it was an hour, two, or more from the point in which Kaeya dozed off, his only realization that he had fallen asleep at all was the morning sun breaking over the mountaintops and in through Kaeya's windows, curtains doing little to stop the invading sunlight.
For a moment, he could believe that the night prior had been all a dream, had it not been for Kaeya still sound asleep on his lap, cuddled up against him.

Soon, however, the sun became a similar enemy to his companion, and Kaeya stirred, blinking groggily as he visibly assessed his surroundings, figured out everything, and tentatively looked up.
Dainsleif half-expected him to jump away and pull from his person and perhaps blame everything on the alcohol. In his shoes, that would be his first impulsive reaction, and here and now, he partly wondered if he should try to quickly begin to explain their positioning on the off-chance Kaeya did not remember what had transpired.

"Hey," Kaeya said softly.

"Hey," Dainsleif answered.

There was a particular shyness to the Captain that never once existed in their prior encounters. It was soft, endearing, and yet never made him appear uncertain nor any less regal.
He could tell he was calculating what to say and how to say precisely what was on his mind, and Dainsleif did not mind waiting, and quietly enjoying the proximity between them.

"I apologize if I scared you," Kaeya began, and slowly began to sidle off of Dainsleif's lap, and straighten up.
It was a lucky thing that Dainsleif had that often-praised poker face Kaeya spoke of, as otherwise, it would be difficult to veil his disappointment in being made to part ways.
"I… this time of year is not particularly kind to me. It never has been."

Methodically preening himself, seemingly habitual by how easily his hands sifted through his ruffled ponytail, Kaeya took on a solemn, ponderous look as he studied the room around them.

"Usually, I hole myself up somewhere, and stay away from anyone who knows me too well… They do not deserve to endure my miserable self. Especially not…"

Kaeya frowned, on the verge of saying a name, but chose not to utter it.

"And I thought it was better off that way. That I did not mind the loneliness this time brings."

Finally, his gaze drew back to Dainsleif, and Dainsleif could not help but shiver.
In a single look, he saw a world of potential, a future he had never dared dream of, and he knew as Kaeya watched him, he was feeling the same.

"Perhaps I'm foolish, naive, or whatever else you may consider me, but… But I am not ashamed in saying that I enjoy your presence more than as a mere companion, Dainsleif. I will not force anything upon you, as I know this relationship has begun, and may very well end, as a business transaction, but I would be doing my father's soul a disservice if I did not put his lessons in honesty to use."

A smile, world-weary and melancholic, broke across Kaeya's stern expression, and in the morning sun, Dainsleif was captivated by how beautiful he looked when his facade had finally dropped.

"So, if you wish this to be where we part, then I do not–"

"I feel the same."

Kaeya paused, words stumbling into silence as Dainsleif interjected with a boldness usually reserved for his blunt and abrasive attitude. Dainsleif himself seemed to realize this as he drew back, not meaning to be so unintentionally forward, but unwilling to walk back his words now.
Unlike Kaeya, Dainsleif's pale skin was the perfect canvas for a growing blush, and knowing this, Dainsleif turned his eyes elsewhere in budding embarrassment.

"I… had thought about leaving you to your suffering, back at the Cat's Tail. It would have been easy, and I know that I would be blameless for choosing to. But…"

How could he phrase these feelings?
Did he describe how every time Kaeya smiled at him, his chest grew tight? Or how he had begun to look forward to these meetings, and thought of all of the stories he was so desperate to pass on? What of every other instance in their time together–when he wanted to gently tuck a stray hair over Kaeya's ear, or fix his shirt for him, or walk him home instead of disappearing into the night.

Every moment together was a moment he did not want to end.
Every meeting was one he wished he did not walk away from.

Endlessly could he spend the remainder of his immortal hours with this man he had once distrusted and found almost insufferable.

Putting thoughts to words was a harder thing than he could ever imagine, and Kaeya seemed to recognize this silent agonizing.
The distance between them created by Kaeya collapsed to nothing as he shifted closer, and before he could even think of beginning some helpless explanation for all of these whirling thoughts, soft lips touched upon his own.
Chaste, gentle at first, but soon with greater pressure and need as Dainsleif, catching up from his momentary mental reeling, returned the kiss with vigor and desire.

Hungry, desperate, like a man finally met with cool, refreshing water after weeks of endless thirst, Dainsleif clutched onto Kaeya like a lifeline until the need for air broke them apart, breathless and panting deeply.

Their eyes locked, and Dainsleif flushed as Kaeya leaned in to gently bump their foreheads together, finding his hands and intertwining their fingers upon Kaeya's lap.

"I'm okay with just… Staying like this, for a while. No labels. No descriptions. Just these feelings," Kaeya murmured, and Dainsleif felt a relief in the absence of pressure to pin down these butterflies fluttering about his stomach.
He squeezed Kaeya's hands, noting how warm he was in spite of the frigid Vision adorning his hip.

"Thank you for last night," Kaeya added, and Dainsleif hummed.

"No need to thank me, simply… Consider it to have been me returning one of your many favors."

With a small laugh, light as the spring breeze and as warming as the summer sun, Kaeya kissed him again, and again, and again.