Work Text:
Flins regretted little in life, but now it was one of them.
He regretted his … lackluster taste in fashion.
His guiding crystalfly fluttered curiously around his hastily assembled outfit, its head cocked away as if the very thing offended the little one. But had Flins been given a choice? He never had the opportunity to experiment with what he liked while he was still on active duty.
Sure, his Lightkeeper was a little ordinary for his taste, but in his honest opinion, it was the most refined piece of fashion he had worn in forever.
Now, in Mondstadt for a well-deserved break, he just brought anything random that caught his eye.
Which led to this very moment.
“Mr. Varka, how do I look?” Flins inquired before he did a little twirl to show off his outfit.
He may not see like anyone he met, but he knew the family way Varka’s eyebrows would bunch together in concentration, and next he heard the Grandmaster sucked in a breath.
The fae frowned, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, it's just …” Varka slightly stuttered while trying to find the correct phrasing, “I think … I have a second opinion.”
Flins sighed, disappointed over himself, “I know … you don't need to tell me.”
Ah, this turned quite awkward indeed. They were supposed to have fun in Windblume today.
Varka huffed quietly, “How about this; let me dress you for today, and all payment will be covered by me. Sounds good?”
Flins let out a thoughtful hum to himself, his crystalfly landing on his shoulder as if mimicking his thinking train. The fae then began to move, not long after, steady steps approaching the waiting Grandmaster with his arms circling his neck, he smiled teasingly, “Then adorn me, Grandmaster Varka.”
”Adorn me with jewels and silk as you wish.”
Varka laughed, the kind that was as warm as sunlight, before he gently took Flins’ right hand to plant a kiss on the knuckle, “then I shall not disappoint you—” he pulled Flins flush against his chest by the waist, surprising the Lightkeeper, “my fair fae.”
“Dear me …” Flins gasped before he giggled, oh so amused, “then show me, my gallant knight.”
The next place they found themselves in was a fancy boutique from Fontaine, recently opened, apparently. The Lightkeeper was dressed in a simple chiffon shirt that was a bit too big and slightly loose cotton pants, perfect for Mondstadt's warm temperature. He sat almost too still, like a sculpted angel, observing Varka wandering each rack and taking anything that interested him as the purple crystalfly followed close.
Varka was quite handsome while concentrating on his work; had Flins always realized that? The way his azure eyes would be laser-focused on an item of his fixation, or how he would just jut out his bottom lip slightly, made him pout like a bunny. How cute.
A bunny, rather than the ferocious wolf that had ripped apart monsters like it was so easy.
Flins made a noise that caught Varka’s attention.
“What's on your mind, sugar?”
“Oh, nothing,” Flins answered airily, kicking his legs slightly, “I was just thinking how you look adorable while being focused.”
Varka apparently had choked on his own spit, almost clattering the neat pile of clothing in his arms, “warn a guy next time—!”
“Apologies, my gallant knight.”
“Hey, can you c’mere for a sec? I’m kinda … out of ideas.”
“Oh? You can do that?” Flins asked back in mock intrigue.
Varka made a face, “Flins come on …”
“Ahaha, I was joking, dear! Coming.”
As Flins was finally near his knight, Varka then lightly shoved two shirts at him. One was a light purple peplum shirt with slightly flared sleeves, the fabric was made of cotton, with ruffles crafted by tulle artistically sewn to the shirt that reminded Flins of those fancily decorated frostings on Fontainian cakes. The second shirt was a dark green satin fitting shirt with a slightly low dip of the neckline, wrapped in a cape-like piece that reached his upper back, and slightly short sleeves, simpler than the former.
Using his guiding crystalfly, Flins carefully scanned each piece of clothing while weighing his options, as Varka patiently waited with an indulgent gaze towards the busy fae.
Eventually, Flins concluded.
“First one, the peplum shirt.”
“Request accepted, my fair fae.”
After they perused and picked several more, they finally concluded this shopping spree with a whopping seventy-five thousand mora total as a result. Flins gasped in utter shock, while Varka beside him just shrugged.
“Varka, I think—”
“I take all of them, ma’am. Do you accept condensed mora?”
“Varka!” Flins quickly grabbed his arm, “Isn't this too much … ? Please take some of them away …”
Varka smiled, “I won't.”
“Why?!”
“Because you deserved it,” Varka answered, like it was the easiest thing ever in Teyvat, “I have been waiting for this very moment to spoil you rotten. So entertain this old wolf, okay?”
“Still … this could count as excessive shopping …” Flins still tried to reason Varka out of burning a hole in his bank account, but all he received was a proud grin and a cocky chuckle.
“Did you forget, sweetheart? I’m Grandmaster Varka! My bank account is as endless as my paperwork, so this is just a small dent that will later be refilled soon.”
Flins deadpanned so much he opened his frozen eyes, “So you can be reckless with your mora.”
Varka had the gall to scratch his nape, “Well… Master Diluc can answer that … but enough of that! Ma’am, I’m paying right now.”
Well, there would be nothing stopping the Grandmaster from buying the fae anything he wanted, including new clothes. Flins could only play along then, already resigned to the whims of his friend.
After they reached Varka’s house, Flins followed the man to his private quarters and straight to his walk-in closet.
“Now!” Varka dramatically opened his second treasury, “Come in, dearest.”
The first thing Flins spotted was the variety of Varka’s Grandmaster coats, just in different styles. He snorted inelegantly, “You have 10 different kinds of your current coat …”
“Ah, well,” Varka spoke as he opened various drawers, “I need some creativity in my job. One of them is a winter coat for Snezhnaya in case you want us to travel together.”
“For … a vacation.”
Varka stopped for a moment, “Yeah, a vacation. Just the two of us.”
Then he resumed fishing out different accessories, some looked vintage for this time, and Flins’ curious crystalfly saw glimmering gems that definitely caught his attention. But his interest was quickly pushed away from him as Varka then pulled him up from the comfortable seat in front of a mirror.
“Now, witness this wolf dress you to the most beautiful man in Mondstadt!”
Varka had seen Flins naked countless times, so this was nothing, yet with the context of the situation … for some reason, the Grandmaster had found himself blushing quite often. This was more intimate than that night in the Flagship. The fact was that Flins was in a process of wearing the clothes he bought with his mora, wearing adornments that were his, steadily shaping the fae to an image catered to him. And the fae had nothing but trust in him, accepting everything Varka did to him with that same small smile that was reserved only for Varka, and then thanking the other man just doing the bare minimum, like buttoning his shirt, for example.
Windblume was near, so the time for this dress up was over.
“There,” Varka finished with a bow on Flins’ ponytail, “now …”
As Varka took a few steps back, his breath was positively stolen.
Flins was gorgeous.
The peplum shirt fitted his form like it was custom-tailored, the flared sleeves added a silhouette to his lean body, the pencil straight pants with sewn-on ribbons on the sides accentuated Flins' long and elegant legs, alongside black dress Mary Jane shoes that brought a glimmer of innocence to the entire set that complemented well with Flins’ simple hairstyle.
“Varka? You're so silent, my dear.”
Varka seemed to shake away from his stupor before quickly clamping his jaw shut.
“Sorry— Gods— Flins you're … holy shit …”
Dear Varka was at a loss for words.
Flins laughed, his crystalfly then lightly kissing Varka’s cheek in gratitude, “Then, I think we should move this outside.”
“Oh— shit, it's windblume— right.”
Varka was tailing Flins as they made their way back to the main square, but he quietly took the kamera. So as they finally reached Varka’s front porch, the Grandmaster picked several windwheel asters and gave them to Flins.
“Hold this for me, sugar.”
“Hm? Well, if you insist …”
“Oh, and uh— stand here.”
Flins wordlessly followed Varka’s instructions; he didn't comment as the man inched away from him to standing in front of him. He heard distinct sounds of clicks and whirrs of a machine— hang on, it sounded familiar …
“Smile, Flins!”
Flins’ eyes fluttered open, he held the bouquet of windwheel asters close to his chest, and smiled at the Kamera.
Click!
“Dearest, if you want a picture of me, you can always ask,” Flins said in amusement.
“Sorry— inspiration just struck me the moment I finished dressing you up …” Varka clarified, followed by him nervously clearing his throat, and his eyes gazing at Flins with doubt, “... You don't mind, right?”
“Hm, let me think …” Flins hooked a finger below his chin to pretend, quietly relishing the way Varka fidgeted with his kamera, “how about … we snap a few more photos during Windblume?”
Varka seemed to spring up like an excited puppy, “You don't mind?!’
“Why would I be?” Flins asked again, maybe too flirtatious than intended, “as long as you keep me as your muse, that is.”
“Then it's settled!” Varka suddenly linked their hands together, “I know several spots that's perfect for you! And after all this is over, I’m treating you to dinner at Good Hunter! Sounds good?”
“Ah— that will be appreciated, my Knight.”
People smiled and cooed as they saw the Grandmaster and his supposed beau walking around Mondstadt hand-in-hand and the former snapping countless pictures of his apple to his eye.