Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Diluc isn’t exactly a social person.

Sure, he can be when the situation calls for it—those nights in college where he’d been forcibly dragged by his already-drunk friends to a dark and sweaty frat party, or those formal dinners full of unbearably stuffy rich people that his parents loved to host—but left to his own devices, he’s perfectly happy to be alone, enjoying the company of himself only. Other people are too loud and grating, abrasive to his nerves.

Case in point: his childhood best friend and current roommate, Kaeya.

His exact opposite, Kaeya loves attention and often finds himself in the center of it. He’s charming, clever, and well-aware of that fact. Their college dorm saw an endless stream of visitors, much to Diluc’s chagrin and Kaeya’s delight. His favorite pastime is barging into Diluc’s room without warning, throwing himself down on the bed and occupying his attention with whatever inane topic he had thought of last.

Truth be told, there was no need for them to live together. Diluc’s family is incredibly well off due to a successful wine business that’s landed a bottle with their name on it in nearly every bar in the country, and his bank account—supplemented by invested stocks in said business—is doing perfectly fine, thank you very much. He can more than easily afford an apartment in any city of his choosing, no roommates required—but. Well.

He chalks it up to nostalgia, an unending fondness for the man who grew up by his side, the one person he can tolerate despite his love for solitude. They had met as kids, and except for one small spat in high school over a girl whose name he could no longer even remember, they’ve been inseparable. So it only makes sense that when they’d been in their last semester of college, Diluc had turned to him one day, bemused look in his eye, and said, “Hey, what city do you want to live in together?”

-

“Do you have work today?”

Kaeya’s sprawled out across the couch, his too-long legs dangling off the edge and his head tilted back to squint blue eyes at an upside-down Diluc, who’s bustling around the kitchen in a half-hearted attempt to make breakfast (brunch, at this point).

“I think so,” he responds, eyes darting around. “Where on earth did I put the eggs—”

“Table,” Kaeya supplies helpfully, and rolls to his feet with a groan. “I might come in.”

Diluc pauses, halfway through cracking an egg. He works as a bartender in a—well, mid-tier sort of bar? Not too fancy, but not a dive bar. Not that he really needs to, but living off of his daddy’s money makes him feel a bit of guilt. And besides, making drinks is fun, and socialization with customers (especially drunk regulars with a bit too much cash on their hands) is better than regular socialization. Call him crazy.

“I’m not giving you a discount,” he warns Kaeya, knowing full well he’ll be sliding him free drinks all night. Try as he might, charging his best friend feels wrong. Besides, it’s not like they’ll fire him—he’s their best, most reliable worker, and he gets the business a discount on his wine brand to boot.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kaeya whines, padding over to peer at the eggs over Diluc’s shoulder. “Are you making an omelet?”

Diluc sprinkles some salt into the bowl and whisks it absent-mindedly with a fork. “I guess. How many eggs do you want?”

He learned how to cook when he first went into high school. With a lovely housemaid who supplied most of his meals, there was no need to, but something about the idea of creating something delicious from nothing intrigued him. He would spend hours badgering the maid to walk him through the process, peering over her shoulder the way Kaeya’s doing now, researching techniques online in his spare time. The maid didn’t mind—she was more than happy to indulge the young boy, especially when he started spending his allowance on fancy ingredients and tools for their kitchen.

Kaeya, on the other hand—well, let’s just say there’s a reason Diluc is the primary cook in their apartment.

Still, it’s a little endearing, Diluc thinks, in an annoying sort of way. You’d think a man in his early twenties would know how to make grilled cheese without burning it by now, but the way he gets so flustered with something on the stove is cute enough that Diluc can’t really fault him for it.

As cute as a best friend can be, of course.

They sit down to eat, and Diluc stirs his fork lazily, watching Kaeya shovel eggs into his mouth like its his first meal in days.

“You’re such a gross eater,” he comments, and Kaeya pauses with the fork halfway to his mouth, a piece of omelet falling to his plate.

“Rude.”

Diluc allows a slight smile and digs into his own food, enjoying his own cooking.

Why does Kaeya look cute even with eggs spackled around his mouth?

-

The bar is fairly quiet today, as it usually is on Thursday nights. It’s just the rock music playing over the speakers and the clinking of glasses as he wipes them down with a rag, absent-mindedly roaming his eyes over his surroundings. A few regulars sunken in the armchairs, hidden by the dim lights, and one sat at his bar, nursing an old fashioned that doesn’t really look like it’s going anywhere.

Diluc likes the slow nights. Since he doesn’t really need the tips, he usually picks up these quiet shifts, much to the appreciation of his coworkers. It’s perfect, really. He can make conversation with his regulars if he wants, or just busy himself with practicing cocktails. Diluc’s not the biggest alcohol drinker, but he can appreciate a bit of liquor here and there.

Unfortunately, the quiet doesn’t last for long.

The door busts open with a bit too much force, and in spills Kaeya, two friends in tow. “Diluc!” he crows, perching at the bar in front of the red-haired bartender. “I told you I’d visit!”

“Said you might,” Diluc frowns, and turns around to grab a shaker, already prepping the drinks. Kaeya sets his elbows on the bar and props up his chin, grinning like an idiot.

“I brought my friends,” he announces, with a joy to his tone as if he’s already pre-gamed.

“Yeah… I can see that.”

Said friends join Kaeya at the bar—a short, small boy with fluffy black hair and two braids that melt into a teal color, and a taller thin girl with short red hair. Oh yeah. Venti and Rosaria, the drinking partners of choice.

It’s definitely not going to be a quiet night at this rate.

“Hi Diluc,” Venti cheers, drawing out the vowels in Diluc’s name. Yeah, they definitely have had a few drinks already. Probably raided the liquor cabinet in their apartment. He makes a mental note to restock that when he gets a chance.

Diluc sets a vodka soda on the table, where it’s quickly snatched up by Rosaria. “So, dare I ask why you guys are drinking on a Thursday night?”

“To keep you in business, of course,” Kaeya says, batting his eyes, eagerly accepting the Cosmopolitan that Diluc hands him. Man… Kaeya and his girly drinks.

“We don’t really need help with that, but thanks,” Diluc responds, pouring a vodka lemonade for Venti and making careful note to add less vodka than standard. For all his regular drinking, the boy is a stupid lightweight.

Kaeya and his friends quickly descend into some inane conversation about annoying coworkers, and Diluc excuses himself to wipe down more glasses that don’t really need the cleaning.

He can’t help but get nervous whenever Kaeya comes in to visit. He’s not really sure why, considering they’ve known each other since approximately forever, but something about the boy sitting at his bar makes Diluc’s hands just a little too shaky for comfort.

He swallows down whatever weird feeling is gurgling in his chest and busies himself with neatening the bottles on the shelf, trying to distract himself with new combinations for drinks.

When they were in high school, they had their only actual fight. It was stupid, too. Diluc had been talking to a girl—nothing serious, but maybe the beginnings of a light crush—when Kaeya had swooped in and, with his usual charming ways, asked her out on a date. They didn’t talk for a week after that, and Diluc still remembers the twinge of anger he felt every time he saw the two together.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t even about the girl. He forgot about his crush the second she and Kaeya became official. But every time he thought about Kaeya spending his time with someone else, going on dates and kissing and whatever stupid things you do in a relationship… something in his chest twinged with pain.

He can’t shake the slight feeling that his care for Kaeya could be something deeper. That it isn’t just about their long-lasting friendship, that there’s another reason why the obnoxious and loud-mouthed boy can charm his way past Diluc’s preferred solitude.

“Luc, darling, would you be so kind as to make me another drink?” Kaeya calls out, and the nickname combined with the pet name (that Kaeya loves to overuse the second he gets a drop of alcohol in his system) sends a strange feeling jolting up Diluc’s spine. “Can you make me something yummy? Your choice.”

“Sure,” Diluc mumbles, and grabs a shaker, mind racing through all the different ingredients he has at hand. Some vodka… splash of grenadine… Sprite, and a cherry to garnish… Alcoholic Shirley Temple. Perfect. “Here you go.”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” Kaeya proclaims, and drinks half of it in one go. “Oh, this is so yummy. I could kiss you for this.”

Diluc gives him a flat smile and Venti dies laughing into his cup. “You are the gayest person I know, and I’m friends with Childe,” he chokes out.

Yeah, right. If Kaeya was gay, Diluc would’ve been the first to know.

-

Maybe he should’ve made Kaeya pay for his drinks.

Now he’s fumbling to open the door with his too-drunk roommate leaning haphazardly against his arm, murmuring something nonsensical in his sing-songy intoxicated lilt.

“We’re home,” Diluc announces, and gives him a gentle push over the doorstep. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“Okayyyy,” Kaeya slurs, and gives him the sweetest drunk smile. “Thanks for getting me hooooome.” He stumbles a little and catches himself on the couch, laughing at his own clumsiness. “You’re a reallyyyyy good bartender, Luc.”

Diluc sighs and runs a hand through his hair, subconsciously untangling a knot. “Thanks. I should’ve cut you off way earlier.”

“No way!” Kaeya straightens up and shoots him a mock-angry glare. “I’m having soooo much fun.”

“If you throw up, that’s all on you.”

Kaeya snorts and leans forward to flop on the couch. “I never throw up. I’m a god at being drunk.” He shifts around and stretches his arms out, grabbing for Diluc. “Come cuddle with meeee. I’m so loneeeely.”

He never really understood why the term was butterflies in your stomach, because it feels more like a desperate bird who accidentally flew inside and is now thrashing around hopelessly looking for an exit. Diluc swallows nervously and takes a deep breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kae. Why don’t you go to bed?”

His roommate pouts, and his puppy-dog eyes could shatter Diluc’s heart in that instant. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Get it together, he’s drunk out of his mind and it’s a miracle if he even remembers this tomorrow.

“Fine,” Kaeya announces grumpily, and struggles to his feet, leaning far too much to one side. Without prompting, Diluc is at his side, catching him before he inevitably falls. “Aww, my prince.” He rests his head on Diluc’s shoulder and giggles, starting to walk clumsily to his bedroom.

Almost there. He’ll just put Kaeya to bed, get him a glass of water, and then he’s got some time to himself before he needs to sleep himself. It’s just a bit past midnight, so he probably can get an hour or so to read that book he picked up from the library recently. Oh, he should text Kaeya’s friends and make sure they got home safely… god knows Venti is wandering through Times Square right now, trying to serenade anyone he can find with his drunk warble of a singing voice.

“We made it!” Kaeya cheers, and flops down on the bed, holding on to Diluc’s shirt as he does so, which throws the man off-balance and he stumbles—leg hitting the side of the bed—and ends up on top of the covers, way too close to Kaeya. There’s that frantic bird thrashing in his stomach again. If he looks at his hands right now, they’ll probably be shaking. “Hi Luc.” Kaeya has that stupid sweet smile on his face, eyelashes batting—there is not a chance in hell that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing right now. Even drunk off his ass, the man is a natural flirt through and through.

Even to his roommate, apparently. Even to another man.

For a moment, an odd thought seizes Diluc and the bird is replaced by a red-hot coil burning deep inside of him. How many times has Kaeya gone out drinking and not returned till the next day? How many of those times did he end up in someone else’s bed just like this, flirty and charming even through his drunken stupor? And whose beds were they?

Something inside of him says, you wish he was in your bed, and Diluc thinks, shut up shut up shut up.

This is his childhood best friend. This is the kid who used to chew on pens till they exploded in his mouth and who cried when he was found in hide-n-seek. Get a fucking grip on yourself, Diluc.

“I’m so sleepy,” Kaeya mumbles. “Did I pay you for those drinks? I don’t remember seeing a tab. But I’m drunk. So I don’t know if I don’t remember because it didn’t happen, or because I’m drunk. Man, I drank a lot,” he giggles, “It was so yummy though. You’re so good at making drinks. I’m so lucky you’re my best friend. Everyone else is probably still drinking piss beer. Do you think beer tastes like piss? Wait, that implies that you’ve tried it. I don’t think you’ve tried that. When’s the last time you hooked up with someone anyway? I swear you only leave the house to go to work.”

Good fucking lord.

“That’s cause I don’t like people,” Diluc murmurs, ignoring his ramblings about piss. That’s the last thing they need right now.

“But you like meeee, right Diluc?” Kaeya rolls over to face him, and there goes that pout again. Fuck, his heart. Fuck, Kaeya. His lips look so soft pushed out in that fake-sad frown, quivering slightly as if he’s about to cry. Only inches from his own lips…

Get. A. Grip.

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbles in response, and he can feel his cheeks heating up—if he had to guess, they’re probably as red as his hair right now.

“Yay!” Kaeya cheers and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Man, I’m really drunk.”

You’re telling me, Diluc thinks, relieved that there’s more space between them now. And—is that a tinge of disappointment curling through his chest? No. That makes no sense. “You should sleep now,” he says aloud, “I’ll get you some water.”

He moves to get up, but Kaeya—somehow, in his drunken, lethargic state—is faster, and pushes him back down before he can get anywhere. “Waiiiit,” he whines, peering down at Diluc with one hand on his chest. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m just getting you water,” Diluc argues half-heartedly, hoping desperately that Kaeya can’t feel his heart, which is this close to jumping out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? What on earth is going on? “You should really—ah—drink some water. So that you don’t feel too bad tomorrow.”

“Fiiiine.” Kaeya sits back on his knees and watches him as he stands up, hiding his shaky hands behind his back. “Thank you, Luc.” He sounds more sober now, a neutral expression on his face as Diluc gives an awkward nod and hastily leaves the room.

He almost spills the water as he pours it, and he has to set the glass down to make sure he doesn’t make a mess. His head is a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them coherent enough to be complete—just half-finished questions blowing around like debris, bouncing off of every corner of his brain in utter confusion. There is not a single explanation for why he could possibly be this nervous. This is Kaeya, for god’s sake, he’s seen the boy grow up through every awkward phase and been there for every embarrassing moment.

When they were younger—this must’ve been early elementary school, because the Kaeya in his mind has chubby cheeks and messy jet black curls—he remembers them sitting on the couch one day, watching a Pokémon rerun on the TV. Probably after school, because Kaeya used to come over nearly every day, to the point that his parents joked to Dilucs’ that they might as well adopt him at this point.

But they were watching the show one day, probably snacking on massive amounts of goldfish, when Kaeya turned to him and said, “Have you ever kissed someone?”

“My mom,” Diluc answered, kind of confused, because he was focused on Ash trying to catch a Pokémon on the screen.

“No, silly. I mean like actually, like adults do and stuff.”

“Uhh…” Diluc was still staring at the screen. “No. That’s yucky.”

“Oh.” Kaeya seemed almost disappointed. “I kinda wanna try it.”

That made Diluc look away from the TV. “Why?”

Kaeya shrugged, and he looked a little embarrassed, tugging on a curl and not meeting Diluc’s eyes. “Cause why not? Like what’s the whole deal with it? All the adults on TV do it. And I wanna know what’s so great about it and stuff.”

That made sense to Diluc. Adults always did the weirdest things anyway, like drinking yucky alcohol (he still remembered the bitter taste of the wine his dad always had) and watching the boring news instead of Pokémon. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Kaeya echoed, and giggled. “But don’t tell anyone.”

Diluc giggled too. This was going to be a secret—their secret. Something adult. It was kind of fun to pretend to be a grownup sometimes. “I won’t.”

They faced each other, both unable to contain their laughter, and Kaeya leaned forward a little. “I think you just like—mwah—” he puckered his lips—“And then you do that, and we touch. I think.”

“Okay,” Diluc agreed, and pressed his mouth to Kaeya’s—just for a second, a brief moment, before they both pulled back and burst into laughter. “I don’t get it,” he announced. “Feels like nothing special.”

“Adults are so weird,” Kaeya decided, grinning.

“True!”

Diluc doesn’t have a lot of memories from his childhood anymore, but he remembers this one vividly. Maybe it’s because it felt so secret, so forbidden—like they were going to get caught at any minute. It meant nothing, of course, just kids experimenting like they do… but the memory floats up and entangles itself in his mind now, taunting him as if to say don’t you want to do it again?

No. It makes no sense.

He picks up the glass of water carefully and makes his way back to Kaeya’s room, only to find the man flung out and sound asleep on the bed.

Figures he wouldn’t be able to stay awake with that much alcohol in him, Diluc decides, and sets the glass down on his nightstand. As he’s bent over, he glances at Kaeya’s face—his cheek smushed against the pillow, his mouth half-open, dark locks falling over his nose. He looks peaceful. Serene.

“Goodnight, Kaeya,” Diluc murmurs, and brushes his hair back. It's an instinctive move, one he barely thinks about before his fingers are gently brushing the blue strands out of Kaeya's face. There's a slight warmth that radiates off of him, and Diluc has to fight the urge to lay back down and cuddle into him. No. That wouldn't be right, he reminds himself before straightening up and moving towards the door. He lingers in the doorway for a second, casting one more glance at his slumbering roommate, everything in him screaming to come back. “Sleep well.”

The door shuts almost silently.

Chapter Text

It’s around one in the afternoon when the door to Kaeya’s bedroom finally creaks open and the man stumbles out. He’s quite clearly hungover, his hair tangled in a ponytail that isn’t really holding anything together anymore, dark circles imprinted under his eyes, yet Diluc almost has to catch his breath when he sees him.

He decides that maybe being so close to Kaeya last night and smelling the alcohol on his breath got him secondhand drunk. That sounds like a solid explanation.

“Good morning, sleepy-head,” he mumbles from his spot on the couch, sunken into the cushions with his book folded facedown on his lap. At least the quiet morning gave him time to get a few chapters in.

“Morning,” Kaeya yawns, ignorant of the fact that it very much is not morning at this point. “Jeez, my head hurts like shit.”

Diluc hums and focuses on reading the back cover of his book over and over, as if it’ll possibly provide a distraction. It doesn’t work. “There’s some Advil and a glass of water on the kitchen table. I figured you’d need them. Oh, and, uh…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before Kaeya finishes it for him. “You got me breakfast? From McDonald’s? That’s my—”

“Your favorite, I know.” He thinks that this would be a perfectly fine conversation if he wasn’t currently hyper-aware of the obnoxious shade of pink his cheeks were turning. After all, it’s only natural he’d remember Kaeya’s favorite hangover food by now, after countless times in college having to run out and get it while Kaeya was slumped over by the toilet. Now that they’re older, Kaeya would probably never ask for fear of bothering Diluc, so he just… well, he just wanted to do something nice, that’s all.

And maybe the sparkle in Kaeya’s eyes does something funny to his chest, but he ignores it as best as he can.

“I think,” Kaeya announces through a mouthful of Egg McMuffin, “You may be my favorite person in the whole world. An angel sent from above, even.”

Oh, God. If his cheeks aren’t the color of his hair right now, he’ll be thoroughly surprised. “I think you may still be drunk,” he says instead, praying his voice is as neutral as he wants it to be.

Kaeya giggles – giggles, Jesus—and finishes off his breakfast, if you can even call it that. “Nah, but really, thanks, Luc. Free alcohol and you take care of me when I’m hungover? I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

If he keeps saying things like that, Diluc might actually lose it, he thinks.

He puts his book down, accepting that his reading time has come to an unfortunate end, and makes his way over to join Kaeya at the kitchen table, where the man is sipping at what’s left of his water and distractedly trying to untangle his hair with one hand.

“You should shower,” Diluc suggests.

There’s a look on Kaeya’s face that Diluc can’t quite read—something akin to mischievousness, maybe—but it’s gone a second later, replaced by his usual lazy smile.

“Join me?”

Diluc’s mouth dries up. He thinks for a moment that he might just keel over and fall out of the chair, and then they’ll both have a much bigger problem to deal with, especially considering hungover Kaeya most certainly won’t have the strength to pull him back up—

“Joking! That was a joke, oh my god, Luc. Sorry. You should’ve seen the look on your face, it’s like I threatened to drag you to a party with me or something.” Kaeya’s laughing now, like it really is just a joke, like Diluc isn’t one fuck-it moment away from taking him seriously and saying yes.

He can’t stop himself before his stupid traitor mouth blurts out, “I mean—” and shuts up just as fast, thank god, he cannot get himself into a situation like this, they’re roommates after all—

Kaeya grins. “Well, maybe once I’m not violently hungover. I think a hot shower right now would just end with me on the floor, so I’ll probably just take a bath instead.”

“Smart,” Diluc mumbles, the traitor part of his brain taunting him with images of the two of them nestled in a bathtub, tucked around each other like their bodies were made to be perfectly slotted together.

Maybe he should take a shower. A very, very cold one.

--

“Luc! Come watch a show with me!”

The rest of the day has been largely uneventful, Kaeya lazing about the apartment through the remnants of his hangover. It’s Diluc’s day off, so he’s been doing much of the same, albeit keeping himself cooped up in his room as much as possible. He doesn’t know what’s going on with his brain whenever he gets too close to Kaeya, so he figures keeping some distance might be best.

Unfortunately, Kaeya is very much not getting the memo.

Diluc peeks his head out of the door and peers at his roommate, who’s sprawled out on the couch with the remote dangling loosely between his fingers. They would look so pretty wrapped around-- “What show?”

“I dunno,” Kaeya shrugs, “Anything you wanna watch?”

He tries to think of a polite way to tell Kaeya that he might actually spontaneously combust if they sit on the couch together, decides against it, and settles on a simple shrug and a, “Not really, but sure, I’ll join you.”

It’s irritatingly adorable how much Kaeya perks up at his words, shifting on the couch to make room for the older boy, a vivid smile lighting up his face. Now that he’s cleaned up and rested, he looks…

Beautiful

Diluc swallows harshly and gives him a smile in return. “I think I may actually make myself a drink. I know you’re probably still hungover, but…”

“Say less!” Kaeya throws his hands up in his favorite mock-dramatic way. “The great Diluc wants to drink for once in his life? I could be on my deathbed from alcohol poisoning and I still wouldn’t say no!”

So Diluc makes them both some drinks, excessively fruity both due to his dislike of alcohol and Kaeya’s… well, questionable taste in drinks. And okay, maybe he pours a little too much in his own cup, but he has a feeling he’ll need it if he’s sitting this close to Kaeya all night.

Unfortunately, he has very good intuition.

Kaeya scrolls through the list of shows lazily, picking a random one “’cause the colors look pretty, don’tcha think, Luc?” and Diluc just gives him a slight smile back and focuses on choking down as much of his drink as he can in one go.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too strong. He doesn’t have much of a tolerance, after all.

But the comfortable warmth it gives him is soothing, and it’s nice to just sink back into the couch and focus on the television. Besides, weird feelings aside, Kaeya is still his best friend, and just being in his presence is…

Intoxicating

Nice.

Well, up until Kaeya won’t stop yawning and shifting around like he can’t get comfortable, and the constant jostling of the cushions is really starting to get to Diluc.

“Will you just pick a position and stay there?” he grouches.

When he glances over, Kaeya’s eyes are wide for a second before his face splits into a smirk. “Oh, I’ll stick to any position you tell me to, Luc,” he drawls, and shifts again to rest his head on Diluc’s shoulder.

Oh. Okay.

That asshole.

Well, Diluc thinks he might actually be on fire now, or at least, where Kaeya’s head is, even separated by the thin layer of Diluc’s t-shirt. It’s not like they haven’t been close before—last night, after all, and college Kaeya loved to crawl into Diluc’s bed to snuggle when he was drunk—so why does it feel so different now?

“This is comfy,” Kaeya mumbles, and shifts further against Diluc’s side. Diluc quietly prays to every god he knows of that he makes it through the rest of this night without doing anything stupid.

Fuck, why does his alcohol tolerance have to be so low, on top of everything else?

He hates to admit it to himself, but despite his dislike of other people, life gets rather lonely with no human touch. Maybe it’s that, combined with the alcohol, that makes him wrap his arms around Kaeya, shifting the two of them around so that Kaeya’s head is resting on his chest, his body nestled between Diluc’s legs.

“Mm,” Kaeya hums approvingly, melting into Diluc’s embrace. “Kinda reminds me of when I would always try to cuddle you back in college. You never wanted to, though. Finally warming up to me, Luc?”

“I had better options back then,” Diluc replies, smiling to himself. He thinks he could stay like this for the rest of his life.

Actually, scratch that.

The unfortunate reality of the position they’re in is that Kaeya’s body is in direct contact with Diluc’s crotch, and considering the direction his thoughts have been going recently, he reckons this may be an issue.

He wants to flip Kaeya over and pull him closer against him and—

Diluc directs his attention back to the TV show and forces himself to be incredibly invested in whatever the fuck is happening between his legs on the screen.

If there’s anything Diluc Ragvandir does well, it’s over-analyzing every thought that goes through his brain. On the bright side, he’s never seen a therapist, because he’s worked out all his problems himself. On the downside, his brain never shuts up.

So why this? Why Kaeya? Why now?

The embarrassing truth is that other than the girl he had a faint crush on back in high school, he’s never found an interest in other people. They’re simply too difficult to talk to, and he never can quite get a good read on them or their intentions. It’s too much trouble for what it’s worth, and he lives just fine without it, so he’s never seen a reason to change.

Of course, Kaeya has always been the exception to this. But that comes with growing up together and knowing each other better than anyone. Diluc doesn’t have to try and read him, because he knows Kaeya’s intentions are always good.

Maybe he’s just a late bloomer, he reasons, and since he’s around Kaeya more than anyone, this is who his brain has chosen as his first genuine crush (can you still call it that past the age of fourteen?). If that’s the case, then the solution is simple: allow Kaeya to drag him to a few social functions, meet someone new, and hopefully make his brain shift the attention to them.

The other possibility is that there’s never been anyone else, because it’s always been Kaeya

There’s no use in entertaining senseless possibilities, he tells himself. It’s only natural to latch onto the only person you truly feel comfortable with, and mistake that comfort for attraction. He’s fairly certain that’s human nature, after all.

Plus, if he was gay, he would have probably figured that out by now. But he’s definitely not, so his brain is just latching on to Kaeya because he’s not close enough to anyone else.

That’s a reasonable conclusion, Diluc decides. He’ll ask Kaeya if he can tag along next time there’s a party or something going on, and hopefully someone there will catch his eye so he can stop having these thoughts about his goddamn roommate of all people.

Then that stupid traitor voice in his head says, wouldn’t it be easier if Kaeya just found himself a girlfriend? and Diluc almost jolts from the sudden heat that blazes in his chest.

He was pretty sure he’d thought this whole situation out pretty rationally, and he doesn’t understand why that simple question ignites – anger? Jealousy?

Jealousy?

He’s mine and mine only

Probably envious of the fact that Kaeya has no problems with talking to people and finding a date, he rationalizes.

Still, for all his over-analyzing, Diluc doesn’t feel satisfied. Truth be told, that explanation makes no sense. He’s not a jealous person, never has been, so why is this what is setting him off?

Below him, Kaeya mumbles something and shifts, pressing his face deeper into Diluc’s shirt, and he decides he’ll unpack that one later.

All that thinking has made him thirsty, and he reaches out for the rest of his drink as carefully as he can, not wanting to disturb Kaeya.

Well, apparently he’s not asleep, because his head lifts slightly at the movement. “Can you get me mine too?”

“Yeah, here.” Diluc passes him his cup, feeling a strange pang in his chest when Kaeya sits up. He misses his warmth already.

Holy shit, he needs to get ahold of himself. Misses his warmth? If you told him he’s been brainwashed into secretly watching nothing but sappy romance movies for the past week, he wouldn’t even be surprised at this point.

Jesus.

“Are you drunk?” Kaeya inquires, leaning in to inspect Diluc’s face. His warm breath tickles Diluc’s cheek, and he wants to grab Kaeya’s shirt and close the distance between them-- “Hmmm.” Kaeya leans back against the couch, his eyes narrowed slightly, not breaking their gaze.

“Kind of.” Diluc’s sobered up slightly, but finishing his drink sends the alcohol warmth back through his veins and he knows he’ll be tipsy again soon enough. “It’s… surprisingly not as bad as the last time I drank.”

To be fair, “last time” was with Kaeya and his favorite drinking buddies, which was always doomed to end in disaster, what with Diluc’s nonexistent tolerance and Venti’s love of drinking games. He never wants to throw up like that again. Just the memory of it makes his stomach turn, and he quickly pushes the thought away before the alcohol has a chance to retaliate.

“It’s really not that bad,” Kaeya agrees, and takes the now-empty cup from Diluc’s hand. “Do you want me to get you another drink? I’m not quite as talented as you, but I’m sure I can whip something up.”

Diluc says yes before he can overthink it.

The drink Kaeya makes for him is actually palatable, which is just another entry in the long list of surprises today has given him. He can’t quite identify what’s in it, but it’s fairly sweet and doesn’t burn too bad, so he doesn’t complain.

“Is it okay?”

Kaeya returns to his spot on the couch, tilting his head to the side to watch Diluc with a curious look as if waiting for his approval, which Diluc gives in the form of a (maybe overly) enthusiastic nod. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, Diluc notes. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

Do you think anyone else can make him smile like that?

Diluc hurries to take another sip of his drink before the hot jealousy can wash over him again. He’s in for a rough morning if this keeps up, and for some reason, he doesn’t think Kaeya will tend to his hangover quite like Diluc did this morning.

“Hey,” Kaeya says, jolting Diluc back into the real world, “You okay, Luc? I feel like you’ve been out of it all day. I mean, you’re always pretty quiet, but your brain seems fully out in space right now.”

“Yeah, I kind of feel like it is,” Diluc agrees, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t know. My thoughts have been going a million miles a second all day, but I’m not sure why.” He prays Kaeya doesn’t ask him what he’s been thinking about.

Luckily, Kaeya just hums and taps his chin, setting his drink down on the coffee table with a dull thud. “Did you get enough sleep last night?” he offers, “I don’t remember when we got back from the bar, but I think I passed out way before you did.”

“I slept in fairly late, so I don’t think it’s that.” Diluc frowns, mulling it over, although he can’t analyze quite as well with this much alcohol in his system. “Whatever it is, I’ll probably be fine tomorrow.”

“Or now, if you drink more,” Kaeya grins, and takes a sip of his own drink. “That always helps me clear my head.”

“That’s something an alcoholic would say.”

“Are you implying I’m an alcoholic?”

“I’m not implying anything, merely stating a fact.”

Kaeya pouts (he looks so cute) and waves his hand dismissively. “Finish your drink. And I’m not an alcoholic, for the record.”

“The first stage is denial,” Diluc responds cheerily, and quickly downs the rest of his drink before Kaeya can throw a pillow at him. “Okay, I did it, look, the glass is empty. Please don’t attack me.”

They both start laughing at that, and Diluc thinks for a brief second that he hopes it’s always like this, just the two of them, teasing each other and joking around like nothing else in the world matters. And a part of him wants to laugh even harder when he thinks back to his plan to find a girlfriend.

Well-- he’ll get the chance to think this over in excruciating detail later. Right now, with a happy Kaeya in front of him, and alcohol buzzing pleasantly through his whole body, Diluc is rather content with how things are.

Chapter Text

Miraculously, Diluc feels rather fine when he wakes up the next morning, pleasantly surprised considering his nonexistent tolerance. He doesn’t see Kaeya for most of the day; by the time he finally leaves his bedroom, he finds a tinfoil-covered plate on the kitchen table. Huh—maybe he was wrong about Kaeya not taking care of him after drinking after all.

He picks at the breakfast Kaeya left for him, chewing slowly to not upset his stomach. All in all, he’s grateful for the quiet, he thinks. It’ll be refreshing to spend a few hours away from Kaeya, as much as he enjoys the man’s presence. The last two days have been a mess of wild confusion thanks to their constant rubbing of shoulders, and, well—all the alcohol probably didn’t help with that either.

As if hearing his request for some time apart, he gets a call from his work; the bartender for today has called out, and they’re very sorry to disturb him, but is there any chance he could possibly come in today? Diluc sighs, but he can’t pretend he’s not pleased. Work has always been the one place he can count on to take his mind off of things—there’s something soothing about the rhythmic mixing of drinks and pointless conversations with drunk patrons.

When those drunk patrons aren’t Kaeya, that is.

Regardless, the respite is appreciated. Diluc yawns and stretches, standing up to make himself a pot of coffee. When he reaches for the coffeemaker, though, he finds it’s not empty—there’s just enough coffee left to fill a full mug.

Even when he’s not home, Kaeya always makes his presence known, Diluc thinks, and pretends there isn’t a gentle smile on his face.

--

He’s very lucky, all things considered. Diluc doubts he could sit through the monotony of a regular job, not to mention the mundane conversations he imagines all office workers have. The flow of bartending suits him much better. It’s like a little game, he supposes. Take the order, make the drink, engage in idle chitchat, move on to the next person. Nothing to overthink, nothing to carefully word. He can speak freely, and anyone who doesn’t like it can just go to a different bar.

The hours pass by easily—he’s in no rush to go home, so he allows himself to slip away in the quiet clink of glasses and mundane conversation. It’s pleasant. Relaxing. Kaeya barely crosses his mind.

Childe is sitting at the bar. He must’ve just got off work himself—he looks tired, but not unbearably so, just enough that Diluc can tell from a glance. Bartender intuition.

He greets Diluc warmly. They’re not close friends, per se, but he knows him and Kaeya well and Diluc doesn’t mind him. If there’s anything he envies the ginger man for, it’s his confidence; he carries himself like he has nothing to worry about, never seems to stop and question his words or his actions.

In any case, that’s what’s on Diluc’s mind when he starts to tell Childe about what’s going on. He doesn’t mean to, necessarily, but something in him craves an external opinion, and he can’t exactly ask anyone else. Really, he’d be hard-pressed to think of someone if he tried. Kaeya has always been his go-to in difficult situations; what is he supposed to do when Kaeya is the difficult situation?

To his credit, Childe does his best to listen—it becomes an increasing struggle, however, the more Diluc goes into detail, and it’s clear he’s fighting a smile.

“Respectfully, Diluc, you’re a fucking idiot.”

Diluc frowns at the man in front of him. He thought he presented his situation as reasonably as he could. Maybe there was something Childe got confused about, maybe he messed up his wording—he opens his mouth to clarify, but the ginger cuts him off.

“I think you’re overthinking stuff,” he explains. He’s smiling gently, the kind of smile you use when you have to explain something too simple to a child. The kind of smile Diluc got used to seeing in his own childhood. “I assume that’s what you do best, but really, all this theorizing and analyzing yourself is way over the top.”

Well, he’s not wrong about overthinking being Diluc’s personal area of expertise. But is it really so bad? He just prefers to inspect things from afar, analyze situations with a degree of detachment rather than thrusting himself square into the middle of things. All it is, is a way to get a reasonable grasp on things, that’s all, nothing “over the top” as Childe claims. If anything, it’s the perfect level of rationality, he tells himself.

“If you think you have feelings for Kaeya,” Childe continues, snapping him out of his thoughts, “You should probably talk to him—”

“No way.”

They both look startled—Childe at the interruption, Diluc at his traitor mouth for blurting out the words that were supposed to stay in his head.

“I mean—” Diluc falters. “If I’m not confident in how I feel about Kaeya, it seems somewhat pointless to put unnecessary stress on his shoulders. Besides, our relationship has been platonic for as long as I’ve known him, and the last thing I would want to do is throw off that balance somehow.” He hesitates. “What if he becomes uncomfortable around me?”

What if I lose him? is the unspoken question.

Childe hums, staring into his whiskey. The air around them suddenly feels heavy, the small bar becoming claustrophobic.

What is he thinking, unloading all his problems on Childe? He should’ve kept it to himself, like he always does. Stupid, he frowns.

“I see what you mean.” Childe meets his eyes again. There’s no hint of annoyance or judgement in his gaze; maybe compassion is the right word. Sympathy, even. “It’s a delicate balance. You guys are very close—I get why you wouldn’t want to risk messing anything up. Still, though—” he chews his lip thoughtfully—“You’re putting a lot of judgment on him right now. Think about it. You guys have known each other for, what, fifteen years? I feel like you should know him enough by now to be able to tell what makes him uncomfortable.” He pauses, inspecting Diluc’s expression. “And trust him enough to know that wouldn’t be his reaction. Plus, that’s a hell of a long time to throw away over feelings.”

As much as Diluc hates to admit it, Childe’s words make sense. To be fair, he’s also probably biased—he’s been confident in his sexuality long before Diluc even knew him. This situation would be nonexistent in his eyes.

Diluc thinks he’s becoming a more jealous person by the minute.

“Of course, it’s ultimately up to you,” the ginger man adds, shrugging. “I can’t exactly tell him for you. But I do think you should do it, because—” he breaks, stifles a laugh— “You never know the outcome.”

--

 He thinks about Childe’s words for the rest of his shift and on his way home. You never know the outcome bounces around in his head as stares up at the faint stars above him, barely visible through the constant city lights.

Wouldn’t that be nice? He thinks, wistfully. To approach the situation with no pre-determined thoughts of how it would go, no bias reinforcing his interpretation of Kaeya’s reactions. To allow himself a tender, foolish hope.

I’m the luckiest guy ever, Kaeya’s voice says in his mind, and Diluc remembers the way his eyes sparkled when he said that. So carefree and jovial. Such important words thrown around so casually.

To that point, though, Kaeya has always taken things casually, hasn’t he?

He almost wants to test his luck, emboldened by Childe’s speech, but shakes his head.

Don’t be stupid.

Kaeya looks up from the couch when he lets himself in, closing the door quietly—it has a tendency to slam shut if he’s not careful.

The room is dark, illuminated only by the glow of the TV; it’s playing a show Diluc doesn’t recognize, but the sound is set so low he doubts Kaeya’s really been paying attention to it either.

“Hey, Diluc,” the blue-haired man says, smiling easily. He’s flung out among the cushions, arms draped over the back of the couch. He looks gorgeous relaxed; a loose gray shirt covers his torso, and his usual ponytail is tucked over one shoulder. “How was work?”

“Not too bad,” Diluc mumbles, still standing by the door. He twists his fingers around awkwardly, looking anywhere but at Kaeya’s eyes.

Coward.

“Anything interesting happen?” Kaeya prods, eager for conversation. Diluc thinks he’s more eager to get out of here.

“Not really,” he lies, shrugs. “Just the same old.” He immediately feels guilty for lying to Kaeya, but it’s a necessary evil. If he tells Kaeya he saw Childe, it’ll naturally raise the question of what they talked about; a conversation he doesn’t want to get into right now.

He’d rather get into Kaeya’s p—

“Oh.” Kaeya shifts, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Well, you must be tired. I won’t keep you.” He quickly focuses his attention back on the TV and pretends to be invested in whatever’s on the screen.

Diluc feels strangely guilty as he heads to his room.

He doesn’t mean to be so short with Kaeya, really, it’s just that—every moment they spend near each other is another moment of constant battle in Diluc’s head. A struggle to keep from throwing himself down on Kaeya’s lap, tearing off that gray shirt that hangs off his muscles in such a flattering way—

God, he’s so screwed. What kind of miswiring in his brain is making him think like this? Why didn’t he just keep an eye out during his shift today, try to flirt with some random girl hanging on his bar? Why can’t he get his mind off of Kaeya?

Still, Childe’s words keep flitting around his brain. You should do it. You never know the outcome.

Diluc sighs and sits down on his bed with a heavy thud. What a stupid idea, he thinks bitterly. Of course he knows the outcome. It would be foolish to even try.

He stares at the window blinds blankly, praying his mind will unclutter itself. On the other hand, it would also be stupid to keep this up—skirting around Kaeya, avoiding him as much as he can, not looking him in the eye. He estimates that he has probably around a day left of this before Kaeya corners him and demands to know what’s going on.

That’s another conversation he really would rather not get into.

Because what can he say, really? “Sorry I’ve been avoiding you, I just get overwhelmed by how much I want to kiss you when you’re near me but I’m pretty sure I’m straight and my affection is just being misdirected because I don’t talk to anyone else, so I’m trying not to make things awkward”? He snorts to himself. That would go over real well.

You should know him enough by now to be able to tell what makes him uncomfortable.

Does he? Sure, he knows Kaeya better than anyone, but neither of them have ever dealt with a situation like this. And no matter how much you know a person, they can still surprise you—Diluc knows that all too well.

But a part of him can’t imagine Kaeya being upset. Carefree, playful Kaeya, always a joke or a flirt on his lips, letting everything roll off his back. His uncanny ability to see the good in every situation, to be the good in every situation. The life of the party, the center of attention. Even in all their years of being friends, Diluc’s rarely seen him be genuinely upset, and those few times he was, it was always justified.

Is this justified?

--

Kaeya knocks on his door an hour later, startling him from his position on the bed, where he’s been laying and staring at the ceiling like a catatonic patient.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Kaeya mumbles, suddenly shy. Diluc wonders if he’s been drinking again, allows himself to look, sees nothing but sobriety and twinkling blue eyes.

“You didn’t.”

He watches Kaeya’s shoulders sag slightly, and it hits like a knife in his gut. Of course his attitude would reflect on the man—especially when Kaeya hasn’t done anything wrong, doesn’t deserve to have Diluc act so cold and standoffish towards him.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” Kaeya admits, a light blush coloring his cheeks, and now he’s the one who can’t meet Diluc’s eyes. Suddenly he’s the five year old boy again, knocking shyly at Diluc’s front door, asking if he wants to play hide and seek, asking for friendship in that hopelessly simple way that only little kids can achieve. “You seemed really upset when you got home. I didn’t wanna bother you, but it kept nagging at me.”

For all his flirtatious jokes and annoying personality, Kaeya can be so sweet it makes Diluc’s heart ache. Just another reminder of how stupid he is. How selfish. Hurting Kaeya for no good reason at all.

He sags, exhales, accepts the chance being offered. “I guess I was rather out of it when I got home. Must’ve not slept well last night, or something.” Every neuron in his brain is at odds with each other.

Tell him—

Don’t—

“I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Diluc offers awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that.” He thinks he may scream.

Kaeya smiles a bit. It’s hopeful and sweet and Diluc feels his chest burn with a feeling he can’t quite put a finger on. Or doesn’t want to. “Well, as long as you’re okay,” the blue-haired man says, and it’s so genuine it hurts. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

To be fair, Kaeya does love talking about himself. Maybe the conversation has a chance.

“Yeah,” Diluc responds, as gratefully as he can. “Yeah, I do. Thank you, Kaeya.”

He senses a bit of unease—like Kaeya still has something else to say.

Instead, he steps past Diluc, setting a mug down on his nightstand and carefully perching himself on Diluc’s chair. “I made you tea, by the way,” he adds, jerking his chin at the mug. “Little bit of sugar, right?”

God, Diluc’s heart hurts.

“Maybe I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he muses before he can stop himself, but to his relief, Kaeya’s face breaks into a grin at his own words being echoed back to him. “Thank you, really.”

The tea is just what he needs, strong and herbal. He sits back down on his bed and drinks; Kaeya watches him carefully, as if waiting for him to turn cold and aloof again. Just the thought hurts. Is that how he sees me now? Flipping from warm to cold like it’s a fucking switch?

You did this to yourself, the voice in his head reminds him. Diluc has to fight to keep the scowl from showing on his face.

“The tea is great,” he tells Kaeya. “I really appreciate it.”

Kaeya smiles almost bashfully. “Aw, don’t mention it. I just wanted to do something nice for you, since you’ve gotta put up with my shit all the time.”

What is he talking about? Diluc cocks his head quizzically, not understanding. “What do you mean, put up with your shit?” If anything, it should be the other way around, right?

“Well—” Kaeya hesitates. His cheeks start to turn a dark shade of pink (cute). “I thought you might’ve been getting annoyed at all of my jokes. I know you’re a kind of private person, I should’ve noticed you wouldn’t like my flirting—it was, um.” His speech is halting, stilted. He’s growing more uncomfortable by the second. “I didn’t mean to annoy you.”

His eyes drop to his lap, staring at the way his fingers twist back and forth. Diluc’s heart flutters between melting and shattering. “Kaeya…”

“No, no,” Kaeya insists. “I don’t need you to apologize or anything! I just wanted you to know I’m sorry for weirding you out.”

When he glances up again, Diluc is in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. He knows he shouldn’t—knows that’s not what Kaeya’s apology implied—but his heart is thudding in his chest and he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop himself even if he genuinely wanted to.

“Hey,” Diluc murmurs. “You didn’t weird me out.” His hand moves to cup Kaeya’s jaw, thumb brushing his cheek softly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“S-sure,” Kaeya stammers, unusually flustered. Diluc doesn’t think he’s ever seen him like this, all traces of his cocky demeanor gone. It’s oddly endearing, being able to unravel his confidence so quickly, so easily. Part of him wants to push it further; wants to unravel him completely.

“Are they jokes?”

Kaeya stares at him with dark eyes. “What?”

Feeling that familiar burn in his chest start to ignite, Diluc presses on, absent-mindedly brushing Kaeya’s hair behind his ear. “When you flirt with me. Are those jokes?”

“Um—”

He wants this. So bad. It takes all of his effort not to swoop down and capture Kaeya’s lips in a kiss, to straddle him right on the chair and just—

Kaeya still hasn’t answered. His eyes stare straight ahead, burning through Diluc, looking past as if he’s not even there. The discomfort rolls off of him in waves, and Diluc freezes. He’s gone too far now, he should’ve known, shouldn’t have got his stupid hopes up, of course Kaeya was only joking—stupid, stupid, stupid.

He drops his hand quickly, takes a stumbling step back. Kaeya briefly meets his eyes—the expression on his face is unreadable—and clambers to his feet.

“It’s getting late,” Kaeya mumbles. “I’ll, um. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Diluc’s heart sinks to his stomach, heavy and hot. The embarrassment burns lowly in him, spreading through his limbs until he thinks he might actually ignite. “See you in the morning,” he echoes, barely hearing himself past the roar of blood rushing in his ears.

Kaeya gives him what could be a guilty smile and slips out the door. “Night, Diluc.”

The door shuts silently; Diluc can only stare at the wooden surface, feeling like he just got the wind knocked out of him, not understanding what he did wrong.

“Night,” he mumbles to nobody.

Chapter Text

The door to Diluc’s room shuts behind him. The second he hears it slide into place, he bolts—fingers wrangling with the doorknob to let him out, craving fresh air, craving the night sky, craving a chance to clear his head.

He stumbles down the stairs in a daze, not fully realizing he’s out on the street until the wind hits his face. There’s a slight chill in the air; it’ll be getting cold soon, properly, but for now it’s welcome and refreshing against his hot skin.

Every part of him feels like it’s burning up. The patches of skin that Diluc’s fingers made contact with feel like they’ll burst into flame at any second, and he has half a mind to press himself against the cool brick of the building’s wall.

By New York standards, the street is quiet; he hears the faint sound of cars in the distance, the rustling of rats scrabbling through trash bags, the muted sounds of music drifting from an open window. It’s late, he realizes, curses himself for forgetting. Diluc always gets home far past midnight when he works—and Kaeya, like a fool, stays up to wait for him.

Diluc.

The name courses through him, igniting every inch of his veins. There’s an ache in his chest and it feels so real, so tangible, that he just wants to grab at the skin and claw the pain out.

He knows he’s overreacting. If anything, that’s what makes it hurt so bad—he had a chance. He had an opportunity. All he had to do was lean into Diluc’s touch, tell him his flirting wasn’t a joke, and—and—

Kaeya knots one hand in his ponytail and tugs, as if it’ll open the trapdoor in his head and pour all the bad thoughts out. It doesn’t work. He curses, rummages in his pockets, lights a cigarette.

Bad habit, Diluc’s voice chides him in his head. Shut up, shut up, shut up, Kaeya snaps back.

His fingers are trembling as he pulls the cigarette away from his mouth, watching the smoke curl up and dissipate. The nicotine barely gives him a buzz anymore; still, he chases it, chases the feeling of something in his brain other than thoughts and thoughts and thoughts.

He thought this is what he wanted. That this is what he dreamed of. Diluc’s hand cradling his face, pulling his chin up for a kiss, his voice low and soft and rich and music to Kaeya’s ears—

He had that. All of that, to himself. So why did he fucking run?

Kaeya leans his back against the cold wall of their apartment building and stares up at the stars that he can barely see. He’s scared, he figures with a sigh. There’s really no easier way to put it.

He’d spent all his life pretending. Flirting with anyone who looked at him in high school, never leaving a party without someone by his side—much to Diluc’s chagrin, god, that poor man put up with so much shit—even now, willingly going home with anyone who bought him a drink. Sauntering back into his and Diluc’s apartment like he didn’t know what a walk of shame was, all confidence and charisma and pride. It’s the easy way out; easy to convince yourself they don’t hate you when they’re on top of you.

Sex is easy, Kaeya thinks. Love is not.

The word reignites his veins like a struck match. Is that what it is? he asks himself, as if he had the answer. Are the feelings he has for Diluc—is that a label he could possibly pin on them?

Between the two of them, they always had the quiet understanding that Kaeya would be the one to get into trouble, and Diluc would be there to drag him out. That Kaeya had all the questions, and Diluc would always know the answer.

He thinks back to the way Diluc’s been acting—his skittishness around Kaeya, his constant bemused look like he was writing the world’s longest thesis in his head, his attitude flipping so suddenly from warm to cold. Does Diluc have all the answers still? Or does he just have more questions?

Kaeya drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his heel, watching the embers fade away into the ground. He’s never had a solid answer to anything, he thinks. Certainly not the questions that Diluc presents—the unspoken ones that linger on him, begging Kaeya for a response.

He thinks back to last night, to Diluc’s warm arms around him, his chest steady under Kaeya’s head. The way their breathing synced up as they lay there, their bodies slotted together perfectly, as if they were made for it. Basking in each other’s presence like this was something they did regularly, and not—

Not just because Diluc was drunk, Kaeya’s mind finishes the sentence for him. Because Diluc refused to even lay with him when he begged. All those nights in college with Kaeya’s teasing pleas to crawl into Diluc’s arms, always shot down, always turned away. And maybe it was his fault; maybe he had always assumed too much, hoped that Diluc would see through the joking tone of his words and understand what Kaeya was really asking.

He knows it isn’t fair. Knows the trust Diluc places in him comes partially from a place of believing Kaeya doesn’t keep anything from him, makes himself easy to read so that Diluc doesn’t drown himself in worry. He had said that once, long ago, a rare drunken confession that Kaeya never got him to admit again. The words, hushed and stumbling, telling Kaeya how much he trusted him, how grateful he was for Kaeya’s constant honesty. For always wearing his heart on his sleeve and never showing judgement.

For wearing his heart on his sleeve. Hah. Kaeya’s heart is locked up so tight it may as well be at the bottom of the sea. But who can blame him, when it’s so much easier to wrap himself up in jokes and meaningless sex and fake confidence? Easier, at least, than coming to terms with the fact that no one wants him. At least when they’re on top of him, or laughing at his jokes, he can pretend.

Pretend, Kaeya thinks, and wishes he’d taken one of the bottles from the liquor cabinet. He starts to walk, his footsteps seeming horrifically loud against the silent backdrop of the street, subconsciously steering himself towards the bodega. He doubts they’ll have liquor, but anything will do, he thinks.

He can already hear Diluc’s voice in his head, chiding him in that half-joking way, that subtle smile tugging on his lips to show Kaeya he’s not really worried. That of course there’s a reasonable explanation as to why he’s drunk again—and Kaeya doesn’t even have to explain himself, because Diluc trusts him implicitly.

The door to the bodega jingles when he pushes it open, harder than he meant to. The emotions in his body are threatening to erupt through every pore, to seep out with such a vile toxicity there’ll be no one left standing around him.

Kaeya stills his breathing, pays for bottles whose labels he doesn’t care to read, manages to walk out without screaming. That’s a good sign, he figures. At least he’s able to keep it together on the outside.

The thought forces a scoff out of him. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s keeping up appearances. Call him a fucking master; he’d win a world championship at it.

The steps up to his building are cold when he sits down, and the beer is shitty when he cracks it open, but a part of him is satisfied—like this is what he deserves, sitting out in the cold like an unwanted dog while Diluc falls asleep comfortably in his warm bed.

He frowns, waving the image out of his head. Diluc has no obligation to check on him, not when Kaeya acted the way he did. He still sees Diluc’s expression when he closes his eyes; the ache in his chest resurfaces when he remembers the shame that spread across Diluc’s face, the horror in his eyes as he sat there and watched Kaeya leave. How can he even dare to make him out as the bad guy, when all he did was ask a question?

Because he should’ve known I never have the answer, Kaeya thinks. He washes the thought down with acrid beer. Diluc isn’t the enemy. If anything, his silence now makes perfect sense; Kaeya doubts they’ll be able to hold a solid conversation for the next few days, if not longer. He can already see it—Diluc tiptoeing around him, too ashamed to meet his eyes, unable to speak more than a few stumbling words. He hates that he knows Diluc so well that he can be sure of his actions—actions caused by Kaeya’s own stupid mistake.

He puts his head between his knees, staring at the concrete under his feet. Leave it to him to take a simple situation and tangle it into something that would hurt them both. Part of him wishes he’d never given Diluc an answer when he asked what city Kaeya would want to live in. At least then, he reasons, things wouldn’t be like this, with Kaeya drinking alone on the steps and Diluc—well, he can’t lie, he knows the man too well—stricken with shame in his bedroom.

But what use is it to go back inside now, to breathe an apology laced with beer through Diluc’s door, to barge in and pretend the last hour never happened? Better he pays his penance outside, in the cold, Kaeya thinks, and maybe he’ll be more deserving of Diluc’s presence when the daylight comes.

He snorts and opens the second can of beer. As if he’s ever been deserving, as if he hasn’t been stealing Diluc’s attention ever since he knocked on his door when they were five. Announcing his presence as if it was God’s gift to earth—on the inside, desperately hoping Diluc would agree to come out and play.

What difference is there between him and that lonely child, other than fifteen or so years of age? At its core, nothing has changed—he’s still a hopeless liar, saying anything and everything just to get someone to look at him.

Diluc always looked.

Yes—he was the only one who wouldn’t shy away from Kaeya’s gaze, who could tolerate his presence and put up with all his bullshit. The only one who would take him as he was, no questions asked, who would clean up his messes with no complaints and still make breakfast for him in the morning.

Kaeya thinks he may be losing his mind, and downs the third beer without blinking. Oh—maybe he should’ve read the labels rather than just grabbing the first cans he saw—although the higher alcohol percentage is not unwelcome as the buzz spreads through him.

He realizes how pathetic he must look right now; drinking on the stoop is a new low for him, but what can you do? He’ll go back inside soon enough, sure, just a few more drinks to clear his head…

Hopefully Diluc is asleep by now. Hopefully he’ll move past this quickly. Hopefully everything will be okay in the morning—

Kaeya’s laugh is empty and hollow as it echoes down the silent street. Wishful thinking, as usual. No—this isn’t the type of situation he can drink away and pretend it never happened. Diluc is smarter than that, more careful.

God. He buries his head in his hands. There’s no way out of this other than an actual sit-down conversation, which is the last thing he wants to do, but what’s the alternative? He thinks about Diluc earlier today—cold, stilted, awkwardly rushing away—and his gut roils. If this is going to be their new normal, he thinks he may actually vomit on the pavement.

The thought of losing Diluc punches through him with such vigor he has to take a second to cough and catch his breath.

“Shut up,” Kaeya mumbles to himself, grinding the heel of his hand against his eye, seeing stars to block out the images of a cold, detached Diluc. “You’re not—” he hiccups, takes a long sip of his last beer—“Not gonna let that happen. Gonna walk in there, and—” his hand waves as if punctuating his words, gesturing to no one—“Talk to him. ‘Nd clear shit up. Not gonna let him overthink himself again.”

Satisfied with his plan, he polishes off the rest of the beer and struggles to his feet, immediately dizzy. Okay, so maybe four cans of beer that had a lot more alcohol than he thought might not have been the best idea, but hey, he has a plan now, doesn’t he?

“Just gotta do it,” he grunts, gathering up the empty cans—littering is bad, kids—and stuffing them haphazardly in the nearly-overflowing trashcan by the curb. “Just gotta walk in there and talk to him.”

The thought scares him more than he’s willing to admit. Who knows if Diluc will even bother to hear him out? And why should he, when Kaeya so callously tossed him aside and rejected him—god, and he can’t even imagine what it must be like, when Diluc is already so nervous about letting his guard down, just to have Kaeya go and confirm his worst fears—

Kaeya grabs onto the door and doubles over. Luckily, nothing comes up—he’s not that drunk, although definitely close—but the disgusting feeling curls through him like a poison. Diluc, his best friend. Diluc, who barely talks to anyone but him, barely trusts anyone but him—and Kaeya, letting him down at the most crucial moment.

His footsteps sound like thunder in the stairwell. This is a stupid idea echoes in his head. Honestly-- nothing screams ingenuine and desperate quite like running back to Diluc with a drunk, pathetic apology. His hand hesitates on the door handle, unsure if he should retreat back to the calm silence of the street.

It doesn’t help that Kaeya’s always been a coward.

“This is Diluc,” he mutters angrily, as if he can scare the doubts out of his head, “You’ve known him for years, what’s he gonna do, toss that away?” he snorts, quiet. “Yeah, right.”

He might, he can’t help but think, a frown deepening on his lips. “And he might not, so shove it,” he mumbles to himself, pushing the door open quietly.

The apartment is dark and silent, illuminated only by the muted TV, still playing whatever show he’d been absentmindedly watching earlier that day. Feels like forever ago now. He doesn’t even remember what the show was about—truth be told, he was paying more attention to his phone, but… regardless. Must’ve been a shitty show.

There’s no light creeping out from Diluc’s door, but Kaeya doesn’t take that as proof he’s asleep; his roommate has a tendency to lie awake in the dark for hours, not doing much of anything but thinking, which he supposes is enough of an ordeal in itself. Kaeya can’t possibly imagine him doing anything else in this situation.

He’s at Diluc’s door before he knows it, rapping on the wood gently with his knuckles, calling out a breathy, “Luc? You awake?”

Past the door, he can hear the faint sound of rustling and something that sounds like a mumble—enough of an invitation to Kaeya, who would honestly take just about anything right now.

“I’m gonna come in,” he says aloud, more as confirmation to himself than to Diluc, and twists the doorknob before the half of his brain that is screaming at him to turn around has a chance to spring into action.

Diluc is right where Kaeya assumed he’d be—wrapped up in his blanket, face obscured by the shadows, an eerie resemblance to how he was when Kaeya had last come in. Almost as if the universe is saying, fine—here’s your do-over. Your second chance.

“Luc,” Kaeya breathes, and thanks his lucky stars that Diluc isn’t close enough to smell the alcohol undoubtedly wafting off his breath. “I…”

He doesn’t have a chance to get the words out before Diluc is sitting up—although the room is dark, there’s no mistaking his piercing stare that cuts through Kaeya so easily. Kaeya shivers in spite of himself.

“Why did you come back?” Diluc asks, and the only thing in his tone is pure confusion. Like he just can’t comprehend why on earth Kaeya would want to be in the same room with him again; oh, Kaeya can feel his heart shatter, guilt flooding through his veins like heavy lead, his blood pounding in his ears to the repetitive beat of “you—fucked—up”.

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” he tries to counter, light and easy, but alcohol and shame is a powerful combo—his words come out half-slurred and heavy, thudding to the ground between them. Diluc blinks.

Stupid, Kaeya thinks, and he’s all too close to just giving up and turning around, escaping to the safety of the liquor cabinet. There’s a Conversation brewing—with a capital C, for sure—and Kaeya has always been, for what it’s worth, a master at getting out of these situations.

Easier to run than to talk.

“Are you… drunk?” Diluc ventures, the confusion still blatant on his face. “Where did you find the time to do that?”

God, he’s so cute like this, all innocent and bewildered and just desperately trying to understand why Kaeya is still here. As if Kaeya could ever possibly leave him.

“I kinda went down to the bodega,” he admits sheepishly, a blush tickling his face. Like a guilty child confessing to his parent. Whatever—the longer he can delay the Conversation, the better. Hell, he’ll even fetch his expensive bottle of whiskey if it means he can stave off talking about what the fuck is going on between them.

“Why did you—” Diluc sighs, shakes his head. “Never mind. I don’t even want to know.” He hesitates, draws his blanket tighter around himself. “Listen, Kaeya… I don’t—I don’t really want to talk about all of… all of this. Right now. If that’s okay—”

Kaeya cuts off his stammering gratefully. “Me neither. I was kinda worried we’d have to.” He offers Diluc a grin, gets nothing but a blank look in return. Fair.

“No,” Diluc mumbles, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Kaeya, um…” It’s too dark to tell, but there’s not a doubt in Kaeya’s mind that there’s a heavy blush spread across Diluc’s cheeks. “Will you—” he cuts himself off, winces, continues—“I’m sorry if it’s too much to ask, but… will you just sleep here tonight?”

“Here?” Kaeya echoes, and looks around, confused. Diluc only has one bed, obviously; is he implying that Kaeya should sleep on the floor, as a sort of penance for his actions? “Like, on the floor?”

Diluc shakes slightly in what could be considered a laugh. “No, silly. I mean, like… with me. On the bed. Is that—” He looks up, searching Kaeya’s eyes worriedly. “Is that okay?”

Relief replaces the guilt coursing through Kaeya’s body, and he almost slumps when he feels his shoulders finally relax. “Of course that’s okay,” he smiles, and shuffles towards him, Diluc shifting to make room. “You sure you don’t want me to sleep on the floor, though? Like, as punishment?”

“Why on earth would you deserve punishment?” Diluc breathes, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or their intoxicating closeness, but Kaeya wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, feeling his body heat replace the outside cold. “Just stay here, for now, that’s all… all I ask.”

Maybe it’s just a way for them to ignore the impending conversation and pretend everything is alright, but with the way Diluc nestles in his arms so perfectly, as if he was made for it, Kaeya thinks he doesn’t mind pretending for the rest of his life.

“’Night, Luc,” he murmurs, and Diluc mumbles a response, muffled by Kaeya’s chest.

If this is what being a coward gets him, he’ll take it.