Chapter Text
Kaeya knew the rumor; it was impossible to ignore, and doubly so given his line of work. He also knew it wasn’t just a rumor so he should have prepared himself, or at least given some thought to the situations that were bound to happen.
As it was, the first time he saw Diluc in Mondstadt, Kaeya didn’t recognize him. He did, superficially. The red hair, the red eyes, and the fact that everything on him cost a fortune; it was impossible to ignore who he was at first sight. But he wore only black and an expression that told everyone he was still mourning Master Crepus. Although he stood a bit taller, all the baby fat had been drained from his face and Kaeya suspected his clothes hid a lanky frame; that combination made him look much older than Kaeya knew him to be. All in all, it seemed his little four-year-long adventure spent killing Fatui hadn’t been as cathartic as it should have been.
All of these, Kaeya had more or less expected. What he didn’t was his sudden anger at seeing the boy-turned-man who dared to look – of course – so much like Master Crepus’ son.
When he spotted the familiar shade of red in the crowd for the first time, he left for the Knights’ headquarters before being seen. Even if he had been, he counted on the fact that Diluc didn’t want anything to do with the organization that betrayed him.
When Jean formally greeted the Ragnvindr heir back as representative of the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya was nowhere to be seen. Pacing inside his office with the curtains drawn, he was supposed to pretend to be too engrossed in his work when Jean would inevitably ask why he hadn’t shown, and he had enough work to justify it. He’d believed he would have been able to get some reports done for real. He was just too angry to do anything at the moment. From time to time during the last four years, he’d thought about his former sworn brother in association with some variations of “he did what was best for him”. Kaeya had been convinced leaving had been Diluc’s best decision at the time. He’d cried the night the Mondstadt manor had been sold. Apart from that one incident, he’d been convinced that he’d been over the loss of his friend.
Now it was clear he had just buried his head in the sand. Every feeling was back with a vengeance: the mutual betrayal, the abandonment, being left without the family’s support on which he had counted a bit even after he’d turned eighteen…
And now there would be no way to escape Diluc even if they never met face to face, there was always someone talking about him. He was too influential and famous to be left out of daily conversation.
Jean didn’t come back before the sun was ready to set. Kaeya suspected she went directly to knock at his office.
“You weren’t there,” she said with a distracted tone that told him maybe she expected his reaction and didn’t care as much as he thought.
He still felt the need to justify himself.
“I was too focused on today’s patrols. You know how it goes, a blink and five hours have passed.”
She hummed, eyeing the mostly unmoved piles of papers scattered on his desk. He didn’t say anything because chances were low she remembered what had been where in the first place.
“Why, did he inquire about me?”
“He didn’t say much, he seemed completely wilted. I have never seen him without a smile for so long. Maybe you should go see him on your own.”
“If he didn’t ask, he doesn’t care. Trust me, I know him.”
Jean didn’t hide her strong skepticism.
“He is definitely changed,” she said. “We were close once, and now I can’t tell if he even recognizes me. He called me by my name, but…”
Kaeya feigned to go back to his work. Jean was hesitating to say something more, and he was pretty sure he didn’t care what it was. The sheer notion of interacting with Diluc or thinking about him was enough to trigger a deep disgust for the man who had betrayed his oath at the worst possible time.
“Do you know where his vision might be? I fear it was misplaced when we exposed Eroch and the subsequent chaos.”
“Not sure. I will look if I find a minute for myself.”
“Thank you,” she said with evident relief, as if he’d found it already.
In truth, he knew perfectly well where it was, because he’d stolen it from Eroch a few hours after Diluc left it at the headquarters. But he didn’t want Jean to believe he still felt anything remotely positive towards Diluc.
Hopefully she didn’t press the topic. Maybe she sensed his hostility, maybe she thought he just needed some time. What he did know was that if he expressed how much just seeing Diluc from afar had made his blood boil, she would push for them to talk and reconcile.
He didn’t feel like he could appear even just cordial right now. How could Diluc just waltz back into town and have everyone throw themselves at his feet? Kaeya had struggled so much after his wardship expired. With no Ragnvindr in town to force respect, people revealed the extent of their indifference towards penniless orphans; they only paid lip service to the notion. As soon as he’d secured Diluc’s old position within the Knights, he’d promised himself to never become like them. The unexpected hardship had opened his eyes to his privilege, and he began to refuse anything Adelinde smuggled out of the estate for his sake. He started donating to the orphanage managed by the Church. He could never match Master Crepus’ donations that continued after his death, but he liked to think he did his part for those who were abandoned like him.
He stayed recluse in his office for the next two weeks, a quite unusual behavior since he always had something to do outside, if only as an excuse to stretch his legs. He just became too angry anytime he thought about Diluc, which was pretty much all the time he hadn’t the nose buried in affairs that had nothing to do with him.
He did his best the following weeks and managed to not run into Diluc, although to his knowledge Diluc adopted the same strategy and mostly kept himself at the Winery.
His newfound animosity didn’t prevent him from fetching all the intel he could gather at his usual spot, the Angel’s Share. It was more upscale than the Cat’s Tail, and the crooks who believed they “made it” loved to spill everything after Kaeya subtly put more alcohol in their system than they could handle.
“So, how’s the Master doing?” he asked in lieu of small talk one evening.
Charles served him the dandelion wine he’d asked to feel a bit fancier than usual. There was little insight to be gained from the barman, he’d seen it all before and everyone was asking him the same questions again and again.
“You probably know more about him than me,” he answered with a chuckle.
Kaeya hid his disgust behind a crafted smile.
“Well, he’s not very talkative to us plebeians.”
“He’s not the type to look down on us, you know that. He just needs to socialize more.”
As he said that, Charles wore a knowing smile that Kaeya failed to decipher, but he wasn’t really interested in what he had himself asked so he didn’t push. He stayed at the bar on his favorite chair, sipping on his nice drink.
Ten minutes passed, and he was ready to go back to work when the door behind the counter opened to an unmistakable mop of red hair. Kaeya thanked the gods that he hadn’t had any liquid in his mouth at that moment, but he still felt like he was choking on something. Diluc was dressed in a typical barman’s attire, although the fabric looked significantly nicer. Kaeya struggled to, but succeeded in not saying anything at the moment, but a few chosen words were burning the tip of his tongue.
He mimed surprise – although he was really surprised – when Diluc stepped in Charles’ place, and leaned against the counter without hiding his interest. Their eyes met, but the spark he’d known in Diluc’s eyes was long gone, and it certainly did not reignite for him.
“Would you see that, the son of my late ward. I don’t think I’ve seen you already. Welcome back.”
“Thank you for your kind words and your recurring patronage. Please be patient with me, as I’m new to this.”
Kaeya scoffed at the empty words, he didn’t know what he expected more. Diluc’s answer was so bland that Kaeya couldn’t tell if he even understood his sarcasm. Knowing their aristocratic upbringing, Diluc probably did and answered in kind. But Kaeya didn’t know this man anymore, and he couldn’t tell. Before he could retort anything, the other patrons noticed the redhead and crowded the bar, as ravenous as a tidal wave. Kaeya waited patiently, counting each passing seconds and minutes by knocking them on the foot of his stool with the tip of his boot. He lost the count several times before reaching the hundreds, then lost track of the minutes somewhere around thirty. People were eager to see the miraculous return of the prodigal son as close as they could, and many ordered a few drinks to hear his voice addressed to them, in that polite and inexpressive way that Kaeya definitely couldn’t recognize.
The sense of novelty passed, no doubt helped by the newfound laconism of the owner. After an hour, the crowd had sufficiently scattered that Kaeya could slide a word towards Diluc and actually expect to be heard.
“I’ve heard of your promotion, Kaeya-”
“Sir Kaeya.”
“My apologies, sir Kaeya. Belated congratulations on your new position. Would you like a complimentary drink for the occasion?”
The answer was just a split second too late to be natural, so Kaeya knew he’d aimed right and hit the target. He smiled as wide and fake as he could.
“You’re so amiable, I’ll take the offer. A large Death After Noon, if you will.”
He’d watched like a hawk the way Diluc had tried to find his way through the extensive collection of bottles earlier, but now it took him just a second to locate the dandelion and the sparkling white wines and mix them with a steady hand. Kaeya let his gaze trail along the covering gloves up to the long sleeves, searching for a hint of skin beneath all that heavy fabric. All in vain by the time his drink was waiting, pushed towards him from avoidant fingertips.
Then, Diluc turned to put the dandelion wine back on its spot at the top. As he extended his arm to reach the shelf, his glove slid up and his sleeve down, leaving a pale crescent of skin visible. No noticeable scar, or anything that would justify such heavy covering. Kaeya licked his lips and took a careful sip, almost expecting Diluc to have put something unsavory in it as payback for his attitude. On the contrary, the mix was different and more to his taste than Charles’ usual. A drop more white than dandelion, and a fair bit more of the mist flower extract that guaranteed freshness without the need to dilute the alcohol with ice cubes.
It was instantly his favorite, and he cursed silently the child prodigy who made his way to adulthood and kept the favor of the gods, to the point he couldn’t even screw up a cocktail on his first night.
Diluc feigned to be absorbed by the glasses he needed to wash, but his not-so-subtle glances toward Kaeya told him enough. Kaeya took it upon himself to only drink small sip by small sip and make a thoughtful expression, as if the drink was awful and he was trying to spare the maker’s feelings.
But no matter how hard he wished Diluc would comment on it, the new barman focused on anything but Kaeya and his glass, serving fewer and fewer patrons as the night flew away. Maybe Kaeya should take the hint and head back too.
He downed the last half of his drink in one go and put the glass back on the bar with a bit more force than necessary.
“Well, I must confess your Death After Noon is my new favorite. Your father may have been proud, had you not forfeited his legacy by selling the family manor. A shame, really. Have a nice evening, Master Diluc.”
He didn’t stay long enough to witness Diluc’s reaction, his right eye knew firsthand what the man could do when enraged. Diluc didn’t follow him outside though, so maybe he had gained some self-control in the last four years.
He managed to reach his bed, at which point the amount of alcohol in his veins made it very easy to fall asleep without a spare thought for the new barman.
He didn’t see Diluc at the bar, or anywhere else, until the next Thursday, but Diluc still haunted his every waking moment. Of course, his appearance at the tavern caused the rumor mill to go into overdrive, and mentions of the so noble, so humble heir were on every lips, including that of his own men.
Thus, when Diluc took the shift following Charles’, he stayed in the back of the tavern. He wasn’t finished with the treasure hoarders trying to grease his palm, but he also knew he would have to deal with them on another occasion. Preferably at night, far from the city, and in a definitive manner. For now, he just enjoyed the attention and the free drinks while keeping track of every movement. The last thing he wanted was being drugged furtively, and then having to deal with Diluc in the aftermath on top of everything else.
It was getting late, at least late for the rascals who probably had some illicit activities planned for the night. They left with the promise to soon share another glass.
Kaeya found himself in a moment when no one was paying attention to him. He kept his gaze wide, but it was inevitably drawn to the main point of interest, who checked the room regularly too but didn’t glance at him once.
The tavern slowly emptied while Kaeya took mental notes of who where at which table, trying to guess who was trying to conceal ties with whom by leaving separately.
He didn’t learn anything really new this evening, so when most of the patrons left in the tavern were close to ethylic coma, he relocated to his favorite stool at the bar and did not shy away from staring right into shrouded crimson eyes. Diluc only glanced at him before his focus was back on his task, taking stock of what had been consumed today.
“What can I serve you, sir?”
“I’ll hear your educated suggestion.”
It was a bit of a dig, as they both knew perfectly well Diluc had been destined to be a Knight, and as such had severely neglected oenology with his father’s blessing.
“We have a red, sixteen-year-old, an excellent vintage from the Dawn Winery. Or an equally nice whisky, twenty-one year-old, a single malts also distilled and aged at Dawn Winery. Both benefit from our longstanding expertise.”
Kaeya huffed. Diluc was taunting him with bottles that cost two months of his wages, and such luxuries couldn’t be bought by the glass.
“A Death After Noon.”
He watched with explicit interest the mixing process – or rather he stared at Diluc’s fingers, the different ways they exerted pressure on different surfaces, how they slid or glided or gripped, the different positions they took in relation to each other. How they wrapped around the neck of a bottle to cradle it in the palm, how they worked together to remove the cork, how they seized the bottom to tilt it elegantly and let a thin trickle fill the glass. How condensation formed around the area they touched because they were hot and the liquid cold, and how it disappeared as soon as they left.
Then Diluc pushed the drink towards him, and his hands disappeared behind the counter. Ragnvindr red on the palm, black as morose as their owner on the back. The color of his gloves was oddly similar to Albedo’s.
Diluc left the bar to collect stray glasses and mugs and wipe unoccupied tables. The waitress had left one hour ago.
He came back behind the counter. A few clinking sounds echoed in the empty tavern while he washed what he retrieved.
“You must be really bored, working here on your own. Is bartending your new passion job?”
Diluc glanced at him. He didn’t answer right away.
“It’s just-”
“Let me guess. Now that your career within the Knights is over, you need a new activity. Archons know why you chose this one of all things. Must be nice to occupy a night shift that a commoner could use to put food on the table.”
“I take care of my employees.”
“Must be nice to go play the hero abroad, then come back and pretend you’re a man of the people. I’m sure it fits very well within your newfound humble rich attitude.”
Diluc didn’t answer at all, and his expression didn’t change. He didn’t even glance at Kaeya.
Nimrod passed by the bar and waved, Diluc raised his head and nodded as a silent goodbye. The man left the tavern stumbling through his drunken haze, and Kaeya had a fleeting compassionate thought for Eury. He sipped on his perfect Death After Noon.
Diluc left the bar again to shoo away the last few patrons in the room and upstairs. Kaeya knew he was expected to leave without input, as he wasn’t completely out drunk. He didn’t move at all, tracking Diluc’s movements by the sounds of his steps.
Four or five people left the tavern, there were a few clings and clangs while Diluc gathered the remaining mugs, then the steps came back towards the bar. Towards him. Diluc put down the tray he’d used to collect the leftover mugs, but he didn’t go back behind the bar.
Kaeya had no real intention of outstaying his welcome, he just wanted Diluc to perceive how much he despised him.
So he was already on his feet when Diluc opened his mouth.
“Kaeya, I-”
“It’s sir Kaeya. I’m not disrespecting you, Master Diluc. Don’t disrespect me, you’ve done it enough in the past.”
He downed the last sip of his drink and left.
And by the next Thursday, he’d been at the tavern every evening trying to connect with that precise group of treasure hoarders. He hadn’t seen a single member in town since then, and he was quite sure none would magically appear at the tavern today. They were a quite new, quite successful group but Kaeya had arrested their receiver ten days ago. They should have been in town trying to secure a new one, yet they had just vanished. If they’d moved north or towards Liyue, Kaeya would have known from Vile.
Instead of waiting for the unlikely, he dropped on the chair next to one of the most successful dealers of Mondstadt. Kaeya appreciated the man, he was competent, knew his place and was very cooperative whenever Kaeya needed someone like him. As compensation, Kaeya let him operate relatively freely. He was quite lenient as long as no one died and altercations never reached the public.
“Seems like the Master has his eyes on you,” the man laughed, around Kaeya’s third beer.
“What can I say, I do have this kind of appeal for a lot of people.”
He’d noticed the repeated glances that Diluc tried to dissimulate by also looking at other random things in the room. But Kaeya was the common denominator each time he raised his head, and he promised himself to confront Diluc about it later in the evening.
“You could get a nice social status promotion.”
Kaeya scoffed, the other knew their history, or at least the public part of it, which was that they had a falling out shortly after Master Crepus’ death. Wild rumors had been popping in and out of existence to this day, usually some mix of inheritance dispute, secret filiation and other conspiracies involving Fatui or the Abyss Order, or Fontaine’s intelligence services, for some reasons.
Several hours later, Kaeya found himself lingering again in the empty tavern. The presence of Diluc prevented him from just leaving whenever he wanted, his desire to be a pain in the ass more important than a few hours of sleep.
He faced the barman head-on, waiting for him to start a conversation. Diluc had been trying to say something during their past two encounters and Kaeya hadn’t been in the mood then. It would be a lie to pretend he was now, but curiosity and the perspective of more ammunition to use against the redhead won over.
Several times, Diluc stopped his accounting or glasswashing and looked like he wanted to speak. Each one, he just resumed his task without opening his mouth.
“Aren’t you going to flaunt one of your most expensive bottles tonight?”
“I’m sorry, it seems I’ve been distracted from my duty. Please feel free to choose anything from our selection.”
The dismissiveness annoyed him more. He didn’t order anything and he could tell it made Diluc more nervous. He could see him physically restraining himself to avoid looking at Kaeya directly, while Kaeya had no qualms making his point of focus known.
It was quite the victory to see him grab a glass and the familiar bottles, and mix a Death After Noon just to slide it his way. With a cautious finger, he traced the rim of the glass.
“Aren’t you reading my thoughts now? Will you add it to my tab if I drink it? Or did you add something to it that I should be aware of?”
“Consider it a thank you for your continuous patronage. It is nothing more and nothing less than a regular Death After Noon.”
Kaeya scoffed and played with his glass for several minutes before giving in to the temptation and taking a sip; it tasted indeed like the divine beverage it was. He refrained from licking his lips or drinking more. There was no way he would give Diluc the smallest victory if he could help it and getting subtle waiting glances from the barman counted as exactly that. So despite his deep desire to finish the cocktail, he let it grow warmer until even he wouldn’t drink it. He occupied himself by watching Diluc’s every move and the way he fit his clothes and what it revealed about him. He seemed a bit beefier than the first time he appeared in the city – Kaeya could imagine Adelinde force-feeding him back to a healthy weight. He followed the folding and unfolding of Diluc’s sleeve as he washed a few mugs, up to the man’s jawline. It had more personality now, running from a nicely shaped ear – elegant, not too big, not too small, not too prominent – to a closely shaved chin. All that Diluc was could be resumed this way: a mix of nature’s perfection and exhaustive care. He looked properly unreachable even without his wealth, almost artificial. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to think that Celestia engineered his birth just to scorn the pitiful mortals that existed alongside him.
Thus Kaeya was the only one who could and would call him out on his attitude. Only he knew Diluc for who he was and not who he appeared to be, and Kaeya couldn’t care less if everyone found his behavior uncalled for.
When he decided to return home, he left behind the full glass and hoped it would hurt Diluc at least as much as it pained him to forfeit such good alcohol.
Kaeya purposely avoided the Angel’s Share the next Thursday. That, and he also had a report to write on the mysterious disappearance of three Fatui envoys. They weren’t the only ones missing – no one but him noticed missing treasure hoarders. Jean would certainly not ask him to stretch his already busy days to wonder about vanishing criminals who had regularly targeted traveling merchants and citizens. It was in everyone’s interest not to question it too closely. His subordinates in particular enjoyed the unexpected help.
Three officials from Snezhnaya were another problem altogether. Mondstadt was already deeply indebted to the Tsaritsa, this was just worsening the delicate balance of diplomacy. Killing crooks was one thing, inciting an open conflict with another nation was another. He had to catch whoever was behind this.
Or rather, he had to get proof it was Diluc and use it to make him stop. It would be a lie to say his enmity ran deep enough that he wished to see him behind bars. Kaeya wanted to take him down a few notches, nothing more.
So of course he had to be there for Diluc’s shift the next Thursday. He arrived later in the night, when most of his contacts had left already under the guise of respectability.
The tavern was still lively, so maybe he was the only one able to see the gloominess Diluc exuded. The moment Kaeya took his favorite seat at the counter, Diluc’s eyes jumped to him. His hands lost their coordination and he almost spilled the whole content of the glass he’d been pouring. Kaeya gave him a roguish smile as the other fumbled to correct his mistake. He had to take another glass and start from scratch, to Kaeya’s great delight.
When he finished a few more orders, he finally turned his attention fully back to Kaeya.
“What can I help you with, sir?”
“Two Death After Noon.”
Whether Diluc thought two were excessive – and he most certainly did – Kaeya was served properly with an “enjoy your drinks” to accompany them. He downed the first glass in under a minute, then sipped on the second, taking the time to savor it after quenching his thirst of having missed this delicacy the previous week.
“Tell me, Master Diluc, have you heard of the Darknight hero?”
“No.”
“Really? I struggle to believe you, the city has been brimming with the rumor recently.”
“I was unaware they called themselves this way. I have heard of them indeed.”
Kaeya felt the immediate disgust Diluc held for the moniker he’d just invented and smiled to himself.
“Not to be confused with the Darknight heroine, of course.”
Rosaria would tear his head off with her teeth if she’d heard him. Hopefully she wasn’t there tonight.
“Of course,” Diluc parroted. “So, what about him?”
“I am very curious to hear your perspective on such a person. He’s operating against the law for the good of Mondstadt, and I know how much Mondstadt means to you.”
“I believe he’s doing what the Ordo Favonius should be doing. But I don’t have time for philosophical debates about good and evil.”
Kaeya laughed, putting the other on edge.
“Of course, you still have such clear-cut opinions. You rarely give to important subjects the thought they require.”
Diluc glared at him a bit before occupying himself with new patrons. Kaeya waited for him to finish, admiring his three-quarter profile. It was really sad and pathetic that he still found that figure so attractive. His mind wandered to a faraway place, where he could peel each of Diluc’s clothes under the threat of two furious scarlet eyes. He would use and abuse his body, feeling it with the entirety of his own and making it submit to pleasure and cry in overstimulation. In the dull reality where Diluc would never agree to hate fuck him, he found himself on the edge of his seat, inching closer to the object of his desire.
“Can I do something for you, sir?”
Kaeya thought about it for two seconds before going with the obvious.
“Glare at me, Master Diluc.”
Comically, Diluc’s eyes widened then thinned in anger, giving Kaeya exactly what he wanted. A delicious shiver ran along his spine. The alcohol had definitely done its part in lowering his inhibitions. Otherwise, he would never have dreamed of these gloves seizing him aggressively while he bit into Diluc’s neck and drew blood like a vampire would.
“So very obliging. But you’re always so while in public, right? In private you can hear me beg and cry without a single feeling fleeting through your heart. You’re perfectly able to leave me without a Mora to my name. I wonder what that Darknight hero would think of you.”
“I…”
Kaeya waited, unimpressed by Diluc’s excuses before even hearing them. Diluc didn’t finish, focusing on washing a glass that may or may not have been clean already.
Kaeya stood up with his glass in hand.
“Nothing to say? You’re smarter than I thought, because there’s nothing you can say that would change anything.”
He bowed a mocking goodbye before exiting the tavern with his kidnapped glass. Eh, he could return it anytime.
The following week was miserable. The Fatui were on the Knights’ back for the disappearances. It was bad enough that the missing envoys were small fry, Kaeya didn’t trust Diluc not to kill the ambassador if given the chance. He hoped the hotheaded redhead had more sense than that. He also had nothing to incriminate him at the moment since he was operating mostly outside of the city, where it was easy to burn a body to the ground without attracting attention.
Then Stormterror acted up again after months of relative peace, and the Fatui increased the pressure on Jean to kill it.
Kaeya really looked forward to Thursday, when he could unload his grievances on someone he didn’t care to upset. On the morning of that very day, Jean was so close to yielding and conceding something to Snezhnaya that he resigned himself to stay close to better support her – and prevent her from doing anything she would instantly regret.
At noon, a stranger with an equally strange flying fairy arrived, disrupting everything.