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As the highest ranking diplomat at the banquet, Childe had the unique pleasure of staying by Master Diluc's side the entire night.
Of course he's heard the rumors of a red-headed vigilante decimating numerous Fatui strongholds from Mondstadt to Snezhnaya—so he was entirely surprised by the hospitality Diluc Ragnvindr provided them. A business man through and through perhaps.
While Childe kicked himself for not being available to be one of the harbingers dispatched to quell this threat, it was for the best because he was here now. He could quietly enjoy Master Diluc's charming company. Because he was. Master Diluc was very charming.
It could be the firewater talking though. He was kinda-sorta off duty so Childe has already drunk about a bottle’s worth of firewater and shrugged out of his fancy suit coat. Not that he was drunk, he wouldn't be a real Snezhnayan if he was that much of a light-weight.
Diluc, however, was still nursing his first glass of wine. Understandably of course, he was the host after all. Though his cheeks were flushed a candy pink that was entirely too attractive.
“What's something you do for fun, Master Diluc?” Childe finds himself asking, tracing the rim of his own glass. He feels softened around the edges and wanting attention from the handsome man before him.
Diluc’s bright eyes slide back to Childe, studying him for a moment. “You mean besides managing the winery and attending to the bar at times?”
“Of course! That sounds terribly dull. Let me rephrase; what do you do outside of work? You know…” Childe lets his voice drop, Diluc leans in to hear better. “For pleasure?”
Pulling back, Diluc snorts. “I don't believe either of us have much time for hobbies.” he says, taking a sip of his drink. “My father had me learn a large variety of skills fit for a nobleman, though the only ones I really keep up with now are chess and horseback riding.”
Childe laughs. “I've tried to play chess, unfortunately I am no good at strategy. But horses are such powerful creatures, we owe a lot to them!” He didn't quite care for horses, but riding them does help challenge his skills with the bow.
“And yourself?” Diluc asks, tilting his head with hair falling across his cheekbones. Childe wants to tuck the lock behind his ear.
“Besides perfecting my skills with weaponry, I've always loved ice fishing.”
Diluc raises a brow and he sounds exasperated. “Ice fishing? But you can't even sit still for this banquet.” Suddenly Diluc covers Childe’s hand with his own where he tapped on the table without noticing and there's pressure on his boot—Diluc preventing his leg from bouncing.
A lazy grin stretches across Childe's face. He flips his hand and takes hold of Diluc's. “If you wanted to hold hands, Master Diluc, you could have just asked.” He almost expects Diluc to swing at him; if someone tried this on Childe, he would probably break their nose.
But Diluc smirks and, oh , that's hot. “The same could be said of you, Master Childe.”
A group of people begin laughing behind them, a reminder they are not alone. Diluc jerks his hand back and covers his mouth to clear his throat. “Apologies, but I believe it's time for me to make rounds again.”
As they make their way around the room, a merchant approaches Diluc with a glint in his eye. Childe recognizes the face, but the name escapes him. All he remembers is the man is as greedy as they come.
“Master Diluc!” he calls loudly, attracting more attention. “I have yet to have the chance to thank you for this lovely banquet. Your wine is exquisite as always.”
Diluc nods politely. “Thank you, Mr. Ivanovich. It gladdens me to hear that you are enjoying yourself.”
Diluc attempts to disengage himself, but Ivanovich blocks him. “You've been so generous to keep the wine flowing, but have you had the chance to taste Her Majesty's greatest gift, firewater?” Childe notices Diluc stiffening.
“I… have not.” Diluc says hesitantly. Does the master of Mondstadt’s most prestigious winery not drink?
Ivanovich gasps overly dramatic. “What a grave mistake! Has no one offered you a glass? We must rectify this immediately.” He snaps his fingers and one of the men behind him produces a bottle of quality firewater.
At least it's the good stuff, Childe thinks.
Diluc eyes the bottle and gestures to a maid. She brings over a platter with a single clean wine glass.
Childe opens his mouth but Ivanovich was quicker, opening the bottle and pouring more than enough into the glass. Childe realizes it's about as much wine as the staff have been pouring. “You won't regret this. Our firewater is the best on the market, and if you agree, I'd love to talk about a partnership with the Dawn Winery at a later date if you're amenable.”
Diluc takes the offered glass and swirls it for a moment before taking a sniff, with proper wine etiquette. Childe swallows, a bad feeling settling in his stomach.
“The Snezhnayan custom is to shoot it—that is, to drink the entire glass in one go.” Ivanovich says with a toothy smile.
Diluc lifts the glass to his lips, eyes on Ivanovich before flickering to Childe for a moment then back.
The room has gone quiet, all eyes on the host of the banquet. Diluc throws the drink back, as his hair whips behind him. The room erupts with cheers.
Diluc lowers the glass with a barely hidden grimace and a nod. Ivanovich claps him on the back and says some words to Diluc that Childe cannot hear. Ivanovich steps away and suddenly they have some space.
Childe immediately grabs Diluc's elbow tightly, concern shooting through him. “Master Diluc, are you okay?”
Diluc gives him a pained look. “That’s what you've been drinking this whole time?” His cheeks are already darkening from the alcohol.
Childe guides him to a quiet corner. “I grew up on it.” He probably shouldn't mention that Ivanovich poured more than he should have. Diluc leans heavily against the wall and closes his eyes. “You don't drink do you?”
Diluc's eyes snap open and he's quiet for a moment. “No. I've never liked the taste.”
“You haven't eaten either. I'll get you some snacks,” Childe says, frowning. As he steps away, he notices surprise flash across Diluc's face.
It takes some time to find a maid with hors d'oeuvres and he has to specifically request one for a glass of water. Mission completed, he returns to Diluc who's found a chair nearby to collapse in.
“Hey, here's some water and crackers,” Childe offers, kneeling before Diluc.
His hazy eyes jump up to Childe, then to the glass. He takes a cracker then has a sip of water. “How much longer is the banquet supposed to go?” He asks, covering his eyes.
Childe checks the time. “About half an hour I believe.”
Diluc begins to stand from his chair.
“Wait, you don't need to get up. Let someone else handle it.” Childe insists, taking Diluc's wrist.
Diluc glances at him from the side of his eyes with a frown. He jerks his hand away. “Why do you care so much?”
Childe opens his mouth but he has no response. Why does he care? Because Diluc has a pretty face and seems interesting? Because he knows Diluc is a strong opponent? Because he can tell Diluc is as lonely as he is?
“I won't fuck you if that's what you're after.” Diluc says, deadpan.
Childe frowns for a moment, processing his words then begins to laugh. Diluc glares as he wheezes. “Sorry, sorry - I was not expecting that - and the way you said it-” Childe starts laughing again and covers his mouth as he feels tears come to his eyes.
When was the last time he laughed this hard?
Taking deep breaths, Childe notices Diluc has a half smile on his face. “Archons . Shit, that was funny,” he grins. “That's not at all what I want. I've just enjoyed your company and I'm concerned for your handover later.”
“Oh.” Once again, Diluc seems surprised by the smallest amount of concern.
“Firewater hangovers are nothing to scoff at, especially if you don’t drink.” Childe shrugs.
Diluc glances away, towards the guests. “Adelinde can take care of me just fine,” he says firmly, but he clearly isn’t saying everything.
Childe swallows and takes a chance. “What if I want to take care of you?”
His eyes darted back to Childe. He stares for a minute before closing the distance between them and presses against Childe’s chest. “Killing me in a impaired state doesn’t sound like your style, Tartaglia.” He murmurs, breath caressing Childe’s lips.
Diluc is so fun, Childe thinks. He raises his hands to rest on Diluc’s slim hips. “Rest assured, that isn’t my style at all. I’d much rather face you from the other side of a sword in a glorious battle,” he winks. “All this is, is me cleaning up after one of my comrades. I promise nothing untoward will come from me.” Childe says, moving a hand over his heart. “And I always keep my promises.”
Diluc’s eyes tighten and he goes pale. “Alright, alright . Upstairs, last door to the right.” Childe stares at him blankly. “I'm going to throw up.”
Childe straightens and wraps and arm around Diluc, quickly and discreetly leading him to the room he indicated.
It was the master bedroom, his bedroom. Diluc gestures to a door on the far wall, and Childe helps him through it. The bathroom.
Diluc falls to his knees next to the toilet, leaning over it. Childe steps behind him, gathering this thick long hair around his fist to hold it back. With his other hand, he holds back Diluc’s bangs as he empties his stomach.
Diluc sits back when he’s done, panting. Childe fills the glass on the counter with water, handing it to Diluc. Next he finds a washcloth, wets it and kneels beside Diluc. Carefully, he wipes at the sweat and tears before wiping gently at Diluc’s mouth.
“How are you feeling?” He asks softly.
“My stomach is in knots, and I’m already starting to get a headache,” he says. “How do you people drink that shit?”
Childe chuckles and stands to clean the wash cloth. “Want me to get more crackers and water? And tell someone that you’re indisposed?”
Diluc sighs, slowly getting up. He takes Childe’s offered hand, Childe smiles at that. “Crackers yes, indisposed, no. Ask for Adelinde, and tell her… I am unwell and it's raining.”
A code obviously. Childe takes Diluc’s arm and leads him back to the bedroom. “Got it. Want to lay down? Make sure to lay on your side.” He looks around, he didn’t pay attention when they first entered.
A large, four poster canopy bed dominated the center of the room. Gauzy gray curtains hung between the posters and rich, black silk sheets were pressed into a military precision. Several white lacquered dressers sat along the walls as well as several bookshelves, stuffed with books. There was also a chess board tucked away in one corner.
“I’ve had a hangover before, Childe, I’m not stupid.” Diluc snaps weakly, pulling back the sheets and slipping under.
Childe does not mention how many deaths he’s seen from that very thing. “I’ll go find Adelinde.”
Turns out, she already saw Childe take him upstairs. She stood politely outside the door, nearly scaring the piss out of Childe. “Thank you for taking care of the Master, how can I assist?” She asks.
Childe leans against the closed door, hand over his chest. “Gods,” he gasps. He takes a breath, trying to calm his heart. “Crackers and water. And,” he watches her carefully. “He said he is unwell and it’s raining.”
Childe is impressed with how she does not react at all. She simply nods. “You can return to him, I will knock when I am back.”
Swallow, Childe nods in response and re enters the bedroom. “She’s scary,” He says after he closes the door.
Diluc snorts from under the covers. His suit coat and tie have been tossed to the end of the bed. He looks… small and miserable.
Childe approaches him, Diluc watches his every step, tense. Childe reaches out slowly and presses it against Diluc’s shoulder when he says nothing. He steps closer and begins to gently rub his shoulder.
Diluc scoots back father on the bed, making room for Childe to sit. He shifts until he is laying more on his stomach, exposing his back.
Childe accepts the invitation, sits, and begins rubbing Diluc’s back. Slowly, Diluc’s eyes drift closed.
When Adelinde knocks, Diluc jumps. “Come in,” he croaks. She enters and sets the tray of crackers, cookies, a glass of water, and a glass of something purple.
She puts her hands on her hips as she looks between them. Her eyes focus on Childe. “You let him crawl into bed in his suit? You know that cannot be comfortable. Please step out while I help the Master dress properly.” Childe opens his mouth, but she continues. “Millie has some more comfortable clothes for you as well.”
Childe sighs and steps out in the hallway. One of the maids holds out a pile of neatly folded clothes to him. She giggles when their fingers brush as he takes the clothes. She gestures to a door, blushing. Childe smiles kindly, not interested, and enters the room. It’s an extra bathroom.
He changes quickly. He was given simple, gray clothes, loose pants and a loose shirt. When he leaves, the maid is gone. He knocks at Diluc’s door, heisitanly. Adelinde tells him to enter.
Diluc is back in bed, this time wearing soft looking red sleepwear. The clothes he threw to the end of the bed have been put away and he has a book in his hands. It's dark, only a single candle on his nightstand next to his pyro vision.
“If that is all, I will take my leave, Master Diluc.” He nods, eyes on Childe, cheeks flushed.
After she leaves, Childe steps closer. “Where do you want me? How can I help?”
Diluc glances away frowning, then pats the space next to him on the other side of the bed.
“In bed?”
Diluc nods.
Childe almost wants to laugh because of how cute and shy Diluc is acting now. He climbs in bed, under the sheets and stops with space still between them. Childe briefly wonders what he did to be allowed to see Diluc so soft and vulnerable.
Diluc puts the book down and rolls over, curling up against Childe’s chest. He makes a gesture with his free hand and the candle goes out.
Realizing how late it is, Childe yawns and wraps his arm around Diluc, pulling him closer. He feels so warm against Childe, soft in a way Childe knows he isn’t. They’re both touch-starved and they’re both lonely. They only have this moment, and maybe that’s okay.
Childe rubs Diluc’s back and runs his fingers idly through the silky red hair. When he hears Diluc begin to snore softly, Childe presses a kiss to the crown of his head and breathes in. He smells like comfort, sweet like wine and warm like home.
It the first night in a very long time that Childe does not have a single nightmare.