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Sometimes Venti missed his Gnosis.
Certainly not most of the time. In nearly every sense of the word, it was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, finally leaving him with the freedom he’d been limited to granting others for millennia.
But on the other hand, it made it much harder for him to keep certain people from getting into trouble.
Venti sighed for the umpteenth time that night, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. “He’s really never mentioned me?”
“He doesn’t mention much at all.” The owner of Wangshu Inn stared back at him, unimpressed in equal measure by his words and his height. “Definitely not some kid.”
Venti huffed. “Could I please just—“
“Look, kid—“ and here the woman paused, looking uncertain, “—if we let in everyone that came here looking for the Conqueror of Demons, we wouldn’t have his business anymore. Wangshu prides itself on the privacy of its patrons. You should be glad you even found out he’s staying here.”
Venti opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Then pouted, turned on his heel, and left.
Please just go through the front desk next time , Xiao had said. They’re starting to wonder how you get in, and I don’t want your identity to be in jeopardy, not because of me—
Venti had cut him off at that point because he was starting to say stupid things again.
Let them wonder how Xiao’s mysterious visitor got in. Let them think he was an adeptus, let them even guess the truth. It didn’t matter, and its importance certainly paled in comparison to that of Xiao’s wellbeing, however he might protest.
Venti crouched down outside Wangshu, somewhere out of the way, letting an updraft curl cautiously against his feet before ballooning outwards, catching his cape and glider and buffeting him upwards. He saw the woman at the desk for only half a second, looking away, and spared a moment to gloat to himself before the winds carried him further, up to Xiao’s balcony. Most of the inn’s rooms didn’t have one, but Xiao was always a special guest when he chose to stay at Wangshu, and when people pressed gifts into his hands he was always too awkward to refuse. Venti liked to give him small things, little trinkets with cheesy mottos on them bought from the antique store in Mondstadt, just to see him blush, try desperately to find some reason to refuse but ultimately find none and be forced to wear a jeweled heart earring or friendship bracelet for at least the rest of the day, until he could claim he’d lost it.
Venti smiled, but it was short-lived.
“Xiao!”
The adeptus’ head snapped up from where it laid against the wall, golden eyes piercing, dark energy swirling heavy around him, and Venti froze.
It wasn’t the first time he’d come upon Xiao while the man was having problems with his karmic debt; in fact, such occasions tended to be the rule rather than the exception, and he’d worried about exactly this when he’d burst through the doors of Wangshu demanding to see the Conqueror of Demons.
On very few of those occasions, however, Xiao had been unable to see him (or, Venti suspected, anyone, barring perhaps Morax) as anything but an enemy, and his gaze betrayed that this time was no different.
Yakshas were born to fight. Xiao lived to fight.
And, Venti realized with a sinking sensation as Xiao rose to his feet, that meant Xiao was ultimately much more skilled than him, with no Gnosis for him to rely on as a store of power. Yet Venti still found himself floating closer to the edge of the balcony, feet touching down on the worn wood of the railing as Xiao regarded him warily from inside.
Perhaps expecting him to follow logic and reason was foolish. That was what the stories always said about the Anemo Archon, after all.
Venti eased himself down onto the balcony, trying to make as little noise as possible— if the inn staff decided to come and try to intervene, things would get much, much harder. Xiao said nothing, eyes trained on him still, waiting for a perfect opportunity, a sudden movement, any weakness at all.
In a better scenario, Venti would have welcomed Xiao looking down at him like that, but now was not the time.
He crouched slowly towards the door, trying his best to ignore Xiao’s bloodthirsty gaze while also watching him for any signs of movement. It was hard, much harder than he’d like, and he was almost relieved when Xiao shifted just slightly, preparing for an attack in ways that only someone who had watched him fight for millennia could have pointed out.
Xiao jolted forward–
Then stopped.
At the same time, Venti ran into action, the winds buffeting his coat behind him and giving him extra strength to kick the spear out of Xiao’s hands– an action, he was sure, that was only possible because Xiao was still recovering from trying to use his Vision and having it fail him.
Venti may not have had his Gnosis, but the winds were still his and his alone.
Their struggle was still not over, though; Xiao’s spear had barely had time to clatter against the far wall before he was lunging for it, lips pulled back inhumanly, a growl tearing itself from his throat. Venti barely managed to get to him first, tackling his legs, but it was enough to bring the taller man down kicking and flailing. Venti winced, trying to ignore the feeling of being kicked in the gut, as he made his way up Xiao’s body, having to pin down his limbs with wind in order to make any progress at all. At one point, he made the mistake of looking into Xiao’s eyes, and had to look away immediately at the malice and hate and overwhelming fear that ate away at Xiao’s face. In his eyes, the enemy had him pinned, and he was about to die, or worse. Venti could barely stomach thinking of it.
Luckily, he wouldn’t have to for much longer. As gently as he could manage, Venti brought a hand up, lightly gripping the back of Xiao’s head, fingertips beginning to glow a light blue. The sheer power to level mountains and create rivers he’d once had was long gone, but cleansing had always been within his range of abilities. He was as the wind, after all.
For a long few moments, Xiao continued to thrash underneath him, but his movements grew weaker and weaker as he regained lucidity, until Venti saw something break in his expression and he let out a low but audible whine.
“Ven… ti?”
The bard let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yes. Yes, Xiao, it’s me.”
“Oh.” Xiao’s face scrunched up like he’d just eaten a particularly sour lemon, relief and guilt and exhaustion mixing, eyes screwed up in a valiant attempt to prevent tears from falling. “Oh.”
Then the dam broke.
Venti held him through it just as he had Xiao’s fighting, the tears no less painful than physical blows. At some point he realized they were on the floor and pulled Xiao upward, pulling him to the bed with the wind’s help; though the adeptus resisted at first, he soon went pliant once again in Venti’s arms. It was a rare state for him, one Venti typically only saw at the end of a rough but satisfying session. Seeing him like this, without having consented to being put in this state, stirred a fire in Venti’s gut, and he stroked Xiao’s hair to calm himself, pulling him up into his lap.
It took Xiao a while to finally break the silence, and when he did he looked up at Venti with an expression that nearly broke the bard’s heart again. “‘M… I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
“But I hurt—”
“Dvalin once blew me fifty feet backwards and over a cliff edge. Actually, I think that happened a few—”
“But you’re not—” Xiao had to pause, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re not a god anymore, and I hurt you, I could have killed you, Venti—”
Venti pulled Xiao close to his chest, cutting him off.
This, he knew, was what Xiao was most afraid of, the reason he made others stay away at all times, the reason he presented himself as cold and callous and cruel and made getting close to him a puzzle in itself. Barring a very few select people, Venti being one, the millennia had only taught Xiao that anyone he dared touch would soon crumble in his arms. That they would fall at his hands, and he would once again be left alone.
It was a difficult mindset to break. Venti was unsure if he even could. Yet he found himself holding Xiao ever closer, as if that could somehow reverse the thousands of years of karmic debt.
Xiao sniffled, drawing his face far enough from Venti’s shirt that he was once again able to speak. “S… Sorry.”
“For going off and trying to endure this on your own? Again?” Venti snorted. “I accept your apology.”
Xiao bit his lip, but didn’t argue.
“Next time call me, though. Me or Morax, yeah?”
“But I couldn’t—” Xiao stopped abruptly when he saw Venti’s face, staring down at him with an eyebrow raised. “…okay.”
“Good.” Venti leaned down, pressing a kiss to Xiao’s forehead. “Remember, we’ll always be happier if you tell us when you need help, rather than waiting until you’re like this.”
“You’re putting words in Rex Lapis’ mouth.”
“I assure you I’m not. Do you know how upset he was, that time when you nearly fell in Dihua Marsh, before he knew I—“
“Ugh,” Xiao groaned, and Venti’s lips quirked upwards. He had already won. “Fine. I acknowledge that your words may have some merit, however small.”
“Good! I’ll stay here for the night, then.” Xiao opened his mouth to argue, but Venti pulled the covers up before he could say anything. “Can’t have your condition worsening again without me here to help.”
“But— Lord Barbatos, you must have things to—“
“I assure you, I don’t.”
“Lord—“
“Xiao, I know as well as you do that you only use my title when you’re trying to get me to leave.” Venti grinned down at the adeptus. “Stop pretending you respect me.”
Xiao’s cheeks burned. “I— I’m sorry, Lor— Venti, I mean, I—“
“Shush.” Venti pulled Xiao further into his lap, pressing their lips together for a brief moment. “I was joking, my Xiao.” He grinned crookedly. “You know I’d rather you respect me as little as possible.”
If possible, Xiao became even redder. “V-Venti— I—“
Something creaked on the balcony, and all the tension that Xiao had released suddenly came back, his head snapping up off Venti’s lap. Venti was about to reassure him that it was just the wind when a knocking started up on the balcony door, someone rapping a sharp rhythm into the wood. The tension left Xiao’s shoulders as quickly as it had arrived, but he groaned, pressing his face into Venti’s lap even as the bard grew slightly more tense.
“Maybe if we don’t let him in, he’ll go away,” Xiao mumbled.
“Who—“
Venti was interrupted by the knocking becoming more insistent, and Xiao groaned again, raising himself up off of Venti and sitting next to him instead. “Come in.”
As soon as he said it, the door burst open, revealing a short man with a large hat, face almost comically contorted into a scowl. “ Thank you, finally. What were you doing in here, getting—“
Venti’s eyes met his, and he froze.
For a moment, no one spoke, but the Wanderer could see a smile slowly building and building on Venti’s face until he erupted into laughter, falling back against the bedframe.
“Oh, I knew you two didn’t really hate each other, I knew it!”
“Shut up.” Wanderer's ears were a bright red as he shut the balcony door behind him, taking a few cautious steps forward into the room. “I just heard he was staying here and thought I’d come annoy him is all.”
“Really? That rhythm seemed rather specific. Like you’d agreed on it beforehand, even. Xiao, do you know why he’s here?”
Xiao refused to look him in the (too knowing) eyes. “No, I don’t— I thought it was someone else.”
“You’re a bad liar, Xiao,” Venti teased.
The adeptus swallowed. “I— we have an arrangement, but—“
“Oh, don’t say it like we’re fucking,” Wanderer growled, and Venti laughed again. “I come to see him when I have bad nights, and then in return I help him out with whatever he needs helping with. That’s all.”
An uncomfortable silence descended over the room. Wanderer fidgeted with the doorknob. “Not that it matters. I can manage by myself. Go ahead and do… whatever it is you’re doing.”
“No, I can—” Xiao cut himself off uncomfortably, glancing back and forth between Wanderer and Venti. “I mean— Lord Barbatos, if you’ll give us a—”
“Dreams, right? Nightmares?” Venti noted Xiao and Wanderer's expressions, one disguising shock much better than the other, and nodded. “Don’t worry, I can’t judge.” He’d asked Xiao for help himself more times than he could count, when a face eerily similar to his own haunted his sleep.
Instead of leaving, as Xiao had been about to suggest, Venti leaned back lazily against the pillows, nodding for them to continue, and after a moment’s reluctance Wanderer sighed, shrugged, and laid down next to Xiao, propping his arms behind his head in faux relaxation. “Just go ahead. He won’t be able to see them. It’s fine.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Xiao leaned over Wanderer, placing a hand on his chest, and closed his eyes. Venti wondered absently how they’d become so close that Wanderer would allow Xiao to do this; seeing his nightmares undoubtedly meant seeing the deepest, darkest parts of Wanderer's past, and even the lightest parts of Wanderer's past weren’t for the faint of heart. He watched Xiao’s face screw up as though he was eating a lemon, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, easing him out of his trance-like state as he finished consuming Wanderer's dreams. As soon as he did, he fell sideways on top of Venti, no longer seeming to care if Wanderer saw them.
“Mmmph. Wanderer, when you kick this Doctor’s ass, you should let me come with you. I’d like to get in a few hits.”
Venti snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ve known for a while, and he only very recently let me in on his plans. And I think that was partially because his actions have hurt Mond, too.”
“You’re too sentimental. Both of you.” Wanderer's tone was biting, but he rolled over to lie next to Venti and Xiao all the same. “I could still betray you, you know.”
Venti remembered hearing those words from another man he loved, and had to take a breath before he could respond. “Yes, I’m very scared of you.” He reached down, ruffling Wanderer's hair. “But you’re hot when you’re scary, so I just choose to ignore it~”
“Ugh– stop!” Wanderer jerked his head away from Venti, only laying it back down when it became clear that Venti meant no further mischief. “Could you take me seriously?”
“Sorry, Wandy.” Venti saw Wanderer's face start to contort, and quickly added, “It’s just hard to take something seriously when it has as little basis in fact as Teyvat being flat.”
Xiao made a small noise of assent. Wanderer grumbled, settling his head back into the pillows. “Fine. But it’s your fault when that ends up being a bad decision.”
“I’ll take that risk.” Smiling, Venti pulled Wanderer up into his lap next to Xiao, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that they did not pull away from each other. “For now, you both need sleep.”
Both men opened their mouths to argue, then closed them just as quickly when they saw Venti’s reaction, sighing with resignation, slightly off-sync with each other. It made Venti’s heart flutter, in some strange way.
There were more arrangements, of course. Wanderer was rather particular about how he slept, and Xiao didn’t like to have his back to the door. Nevertheless, they eventually wound up both snoring on Venti’s lap, heads draped over a pile of pillows that had materialized at some point on top of Venti’s legs.
Venti sighed contentedly, arching his back. There was work to be done in Mondstadt, of course, there always was, and even if there wasn’t he made a habit of going to see his other boyfriends at work. For now, though, Venti just smiled, watching how the rising sun glinted off Xiao and Wanderer's hair in turn.
The wind could, at times, be still.