Chapter Text
Kaeya pretends not to notice — the rugged look on the bartender’s features, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he ducks into his sleeve every so often with a slight shake of his head before letting out a tired sniffle before returning to his work.
“Barkeep!” Kaeya called out. The bartender in question flinches at the sound, nearly dropping the glass he was holding. A sensitivity to loud noises, it seems. He’s doing his best to conceal it, clearly, but Kaeya is nothing if not perceptive. “A Boreal Watch, please.”
A look of recognition flashes across Diluc’s features, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. Probably surprised that he wasn’t asking for a refill. Diluc nods without saying anything and gets back to making the drink. He sucks in a breath, watching Diluc’s trembling hand pour hot water through a sieve. His eyes are glassy, and unfocused, the tense line of his shoulder was disrupted by a shuddering breath, then a shaky inhale. Diluc set the teapot down in a hurry, ducking his head into a hastily retrieved handkerchief. Terribly polite, given the circumstance.
Kaeya’s eye crinkles in mirth. The effort in which Diluc conceals his misery, honestly, it’s quite the performance. Not even the slightest sound escaped him. He almost found it amusing.
Almost.
Not to say he explicitly took joy in Diluc’s suffering, but as is with most things, there’s a time and a place.
“Your drink.” Diluc pushes the saucer before him. He makes a show of pouring the perfect amount of milk from his shaker before topping it off with a mint garnish.
“On second thought…” Kaeya propped his head on his palm and used his free hand to push the saucer across the counter until it touched Diluc’s fingertips. “You look like you need this more than I do. Why don’t you add a bit of honey, too? Should work wonders for a sore throat.”
Diluc bristles, letting out a displeased hum at the accusation. “I appreciate the concern, however unnecessary.” He finds the words willing him to speak and, archons, he really does sound awful. Diluc pushes the saucer back towards Kaeya. “Though, I regret to inform you that I’m not exactly fond of mint. I’ll have to decline your offer.”
Somehow Diluc’s tone, that level cadence and even timbre, the same he uses when speaking to business partners, hurts him more than the rejection. Sometimes, he really did wonder what exactly he aimed to do whenever Diluc-related matters were concerned.
“And why might that be?”
“The scent.” Diluc ducks into his handkerchief with another silent sneeze. He really is committed to this whole “polite” thing. “It irritates me.”
“Irritates you?”Kaeya parrots back. “You mean it gives you the sniffles? That just means it’s working. Warm tea and a soothing aroma. What better for clearing up a cold?”
“I don't know what you’re talking about.” Diluc grits out.
“The wind is awfully loud today isn’t it. Who knows? A storm might be brewing. The last thing Mond needs is for their beloved uncrowned king to be caught in the rain.”
“I can mind myself. No need to overstep your bounds, Sir Kaeya.”He grabbed the teacup and poured its contents down the sink. “I’m sure there are better uses of your time than to—” his haughty words were caught in his throat, seized and strangled, leaving a paroxysm of coughs in their wake. It’s a wet, hacking sound that even made Kaeya wince in sympathy. Diluc really didn't seem well at all. “Ngh… pardon me.”
“My time would be better spent making sure you get some rest.” Before he knew it, he was leaning over the bar counter, reaching up to lay the back of his hand across Diluc’s forehead.
Only, Diluc is quicker and swats his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Kaeya should’ve expected this outcome. Really, just what was he doing? He should’ve known it was wishful thinking Diluc would ever be this honest with him. The illustrious master Diluc was ever infallible as he was untouchable. A perfect gentleman in every way. He would never allow another person to see him in such a far-from-impeccable state.
“Right, of course.” Kaeya finds himself laughing sardonically. “Master Diluc doesn’t need help. Especially from someone as lowly as myself.” He counts out the payment for his drink and slams it on the counter with none of his usual grace. “Goodnight.”
Deafening silence. To Diluc, that’s what rain sounded like. When it poured, it drowned out everything — flushed out and washed away without a single trace. Deafening because Diluc couldn’t hear the sound of the wet ground sinking underneath his boots, nor his labored breathing, nor the hiss of his conjured pyre vaporizing in an instant. Silent because everything else was quiet in comparison to the roaring thunder. Not his claymore slashing through the last hilichurl that charged at him senselessly with a wooden club, nor its dying shriek, nor its body when it collapsed to the ground and dissipated.
All was quiet.
His cloak was rendered beyond useless by now— soaked through in addition to his clothes. The multiple layers were more of a hindrance now that they couldn’t fulfill the basic task of keeping himself warm. They only weighed him down — only making himself feel more sluggish. If he stopped to rest under a tree, if only for a little while, when would the rain stop? Would it ever? Before the sun rose? Before he let himself freeze? Ah, it seems the rain also drowned out his thoughts, too. Or maybe he was simply pinning the blame on it for the ringing in his ears.
The heavy claymore sunk into the ground like a knife through softened butter. The weapon that had saved Diluc from death many times before and here he was using it as a crutch. He was breathing too fast or not enough because he was certain an insufficient amount of oxygen was reaching his brain — not that he could hear it.
A rumble makes him stiffen. Thunder again, he thinks.
A crackle makes him turn. Waiting for the inevitable crash, he really ought to get back to the Winery—
The crackle of ice.
Diluc stands. Ready to fight off whatever threat its headed his way, but the moment he takes a step, his world is thrown to face the rain clouds as his feet fly out from under him. He manages to catch himself on his hands and can only stare dumbly as a cryo-wielding silhouette crushes a frozen statue of what Diluc thinks was another monster underneath their boot.
Great. He was careless too, and now there was a stranger involved.
“….luc….. e…r….. me?”
Their words are jumbled but it doesn’t matter because they’re approaching — quickly. It’s only now that Diluc realizes that he isn’t wearing his disguise anymore — having taken it off earlier in a useless attempt to rid himself of the excess water so unless he wills himself to move then he might be in real danger.
There’s a clasp at his shoulder, firm, grounding, “Diluc, can you hear me?”
Kaeya.
Suddenly the rain isn’t so loud anymore.
“What are you doing out here? It’s late — it’s raining. Go home, Kaeya.”
“I could say the same about you.” It’s not his usual teasing tone. It’s gruff and cold — much like the rain. He helps the other rise to his feet, nonetheless. What he’s not expecting is to find himself collapsing in Kaeya’s hold, his legs shuddering under his own weight as the true extent of the cold seeps beneath his skin. “Is the darknight hero really so busy that he can’t take a rain check?”
“Shut up. I can handle myself.” Diluc says despite himself. Three years alone had taught him that he could only rely on himself, being self-sufficient was more than just an aspect of his character — it was the difference between whether or not he made it out of that winter hellscape all that time ago. The Traveler made him realize that he’d always have allies to rely on, but Kaeya was decidedly not one of them. He had no right.
“I didn’t say that you couldn’t.” Kaeya says, deftly ignoring the way Diluc shook like a leaf against him. He was shivering profusely and, for better or for worse, Kaeya decided not to comment. “So now that we’re done here, I’ll escort you back to the Winery. You’re soaked through — you’ll catch your death out here.” Kaeya doesn’t wait for a response. He’s already shuffling them forward. They’re only just past Springvale, but the walk couldn’t feel any longer.
Diluc musters up the energy for a scoff. It was a silly notion, really. “Only idiots get sick from the rain.” He mumbles lowly. He’s wincing when a sharp crash of shrieking lightning makes his temples throb. Kaeya is hardly dressed for the outside weather, now that he looks. If anything, Diluc should be the one fretting over him.
“You’re right, silly me. You’ve already gone and caught something, haven’t you? The rain is only making it worse.”
“Archons, Sir Kaeya, did you really come all the way out here to mock me? If you really must know, my vision keeps me warm—!” Before he could finish, Diluc pulled away, ducking to the side and sneezing into his wrist. A full-bodied shiver wracks his form with the force of it.
“Does it now?” Kaeya raises a brow, clearly not convinced.
A beat of silence.
Another thunder crash.
“What does it matter to you?” Diluc pushes himself away from Kaeya with a harsh shove. Immediately he stumbles, but he wasn’t going to prove his point if he collapsed now. “I already told you earlier but clearly you’ve forgotten: I don’t need you.”
“Then walk back to the winery yourself!” Kaeya shouts amidst the thundering and rustling winds. His heart, Diluc finds, is much like this storm — a tumultuous turmoil, a whirlwind of emotions. “Prove it since you’re so desperate!”
“Have it your way!”It’s tight. His chest is so tight.
Diluc had made it all the way from Mondstadt city to here. He just had to cross the same distance again, simple. It was nothing he hadn’t done before in an arguably worse condition.
Diluc walks away from Kaeya.
Again.
It feels like another goodbye.
Walking. It’s just one foot in front of the other — easy — so why does it feel…? It’s taking all his energy to stay upright. A whimper has regret festering, like an infection that continued to spread, strangling him from the inside out, shutting down every function.
Somewhere, somehow Diluc loses his footing. He doesn’t have the energy to get up.
This is what he deserved.
This was all that’s left when he pushed everyone away.
Regret manifests. It’s tears this time — shuddering sobs that wrack him to his core. The winds are howling, misery drowned amidst unforgiving gales.
“Diluc. You’re…” Kaeya doesn't finish his sentence, but Diluc already knew what he was going to say. The wetness on his cheeks isn’t just from the rain. The pitiful sniffles aren’t just from his cold. The barest hint of a whimper isn’t just from a potential injury he sustained.
With a shaky grasp, Diluc takes Kaeya’s hand. Gingerly, softly, he removes his glove feeling each and ever callous of the strong, yet tender hand — much more tender than his own. The coolness of Kaeya’s hand feels heavenly against his boiling skin as he nuzzles into the other’s palm and the heat of his fever radiates off Diluc’s cheek. It’s a wordless admission — the touch that Diluc had denied Kaeya earlier.
I don’t feel well
“You’re burning up.” Kaeya said with finality, helping Diluc to his feet once more. His legs wobbled like a newborn fawn’s. More rain pelted the two of them. “Dawn Winery is too far. We’re going back to Mondstadt.”