Chapter Text
“I know you’re there.”
Footsteps echoed in the chilly wine cellar and crates clacked against each other, bottles rattling from being stacked for temporary storage. Even among the shuffling and wispy humming of disturbed glass, the foreign sounds didn’t escape the attention of the person who listened like he expected to hear an intrusion. The click of a boot heel at the base of the stairs shouldn’t be such a distinct identifier, but no one ever accused Diluc of being normal. And they certainly didn’t accuse him of being inattentive.
“Nothing gets by you, does it, Master Diluc?” The familiar voice returned his accusatory tone with enough mirth to make his chest tighten. The instinct to tell the man to get lost bubbled up before he could form better words of retaliation.
“I don’t recall inviting you to bother me,” he compromised, being unnecessarily snide, but not exactly telling him to get the hell out of his sight just yet—and in all technicality, Kaeya hadn’t actually entered his field of vision.
“I’m sorry for your bad memory, it must be tough,” Kaeya shot back and the crate Diluc moved rattled much more forcefully from the way he set it on the stack. “Take it easy, I’m not here to pick a fight.”
“If you need to send a message, then write a letter, I’ve got work to do,” he still made no effort to pause in his work. With a sudden rain spell coming, getting his product chilled and stored in the ideal humidity required locking the cellar up airtight until the weather passed. He sent his cellar manager off with the finished stock, while he stayed behind to load in the fresh bottled batch.
Naturally, Kaeya zeroed directly in on this fact. After all, why should he be doing the manual labor? As if he didn’t do that more often than people noticed. As though Kaeya didn’t know the type of person he was. “Don’t you have workers who do this stuff? Or do you really have to get your hands in everything?”
Diluc audibly exhaled, a sigh that Kaeya would easily ignore. “Why ask if you know?”
“Getting you in any sort of conversation is like setting water on fire, you know?” The railing by the stairs creaked, and Diluc could visualize Kaeya leaning against the aged oak frame.
“I know you’re not here for a social call,” he shrugged off his jab and walked back across the room to the stack placed by the recently pulled wine racks—now empty and waiting for the next round of aging. He picked several cases to hoist back over to the temporary storage space, passing right next to the man he still didn’t bother to make any eye contact with.
“You’re awfully cold for someone with a pyro vision, is that what they call situational irony?”
“If you’re going to run your mouth, then move your arms while you do it,” Diluc dropped the next stack and in the same motion, tossed a pair of work gloves at him. Standing straight, he made eye contact with Kaeya for the first time since he first heard him trigger the croaking board of the third step coming down.
“You’re really something,” he paused for a moment before he laughed, clearly unable to come up with a reason to back out. So he slipped the leather gloves on and made his way to the stock staged to be arranged around the cellar. Instead of watching Diluc going back and forth, he placed himself as a middle man and just began to pass them his way, meeting him in the center of the cellar.
For a little while, all discussions dropped to silence, until they established a rhythm. Without words to get in the way, they established a repeating foot pattern that definitely outpaced the work of one person alone in a cold, dimly lit basement. But even in the low light, Diluc could feel eyes on him the whole time—even while he continued to refuse eye contact beyond that one brief exchange. Kaeya was humoring him, in his own way. While he came for some specific reason, he easily could have marched himself back upstairs to wait for him to finish his task. In fact, he had more reason to be suspicious because he did stay.
“What are you staring at me for,” he muttered, lifting the next box from his hands, barely brushing hands with him as they had done ten or so times already.
A moment of silence, and then Kaeya offered his most insincere denial, “I’m not staring.”
Diluc shook his head and continued with the task at hand, giving Kaeya enough time to think he’d simply dropped the issue at hand—to think he’d fall for such a simple tactic, when a few moments later he simply took a step back and turned to face him. His flat stare made his temporary helper jump a bit. “You have something to say?” He asked.
“Ah, well, yes and no, haha. I have things to say, but some of it can wait until we go back upstairs.”
“You can’t just get your business out of the way now?” He turned away again to stack the last crate on top and secure the column. “It can’t be a matter of escaping other people’s observations. No one is around.”
Kaeya pursed his lips and Diluc had a brief desire to kick him out, or leave without a word, or even just bop him until he got to the point of this visit.
“Damn, you kinda filled out didn’t you?” He didn’t expect the words that fell out of Kaeya’s mouth and froze in place, turning only his head to stare back at him like he needed to confirm he heard what he heard.”
“—Pardon?”
“I mean—,” he waved, trying to be nonchalant about his comment, but looking like he realized he stuck his head in a dragon’s mouth. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you without your coat on, and you didn’t used to be…” he motioned to him vaguely, “this.”
“My claymore probably weighs more than you,” he meant for it to sound less threatening, but somehow, it still sounded threatening. Kaeya, at least, didn’t take it personally—even if Diluc thought he really should. He didn’t have to know how Diluc imagined going over to him and picking him up just to see his reaction. They were the same size, roughly, until Diluc stripped down to a work shirt. Then the difference in their weapon choices made itself known.
“You could just accept a compliment for a change.”
“You could not try to distract me from the original topic,” he stepped closer to him, standing toe to toe with him.
“I like this topic more,” he smirked a bit, making a leisurely gesture.
“This topic is busy, and if you have nothing else, I’m going back to work, wait upstairs if you can’t refrain from being a disruption,” he pulled his gloves a bit tighter and the brief standoff ended faster than it started. He knew better than to spend too much time staring Kaeya down.
Diluc turned away from him fully, and went right back to his task; whether Kaeya helped him or not, he needed to have it done so he could close up the cellar. The less attention he gave him, the more space he could maintain before this needling and prodding finally broke through his carefully fashioned walls. Torn between tired and irked, he really wanted to know why Kaeya wouldn't just tell him what he showed up for, choosing instead to play the same game with him he always did—just to get a rise out of him clearly.
Unexpectedly, he heard the gentle rattling of the glass bottles, and Kaeya hoisting a crate to pass in his direction. Silently, he took it and let them fall back into the efficient sorting of what would become Mondstadt’s finest wine. Once the rain passed, he could finish the repairs in the aging foundation and maintain the environment more efficiently. For the time being, he could get by with an afternoon spent trying to essentially bury his product. Kaeya must have understood the importance, at least enough not to really try to drag him away from it.
Still, the odd silence in regard to his visit perplexed Diluc. Normally, Kaeya would tease him, but he wouldn’t beat around the bush so intentionally.
He fashioned each stack as he finished placing crates, to make sure nothing moved over time. Keeping his attention busy and his hands moving, prevented his mind—and eyes—from wandering over in his temporary helper’s direction. Giving this man attention only served to tip his hand in the wrong direction.
Fortunately, nothing further interrupted progress and he tied the last stack, before cutting a couple of the lamps off and opening a small box of charcoal in the back corner of the room to control the humidity. With just the light of the last lamp, he unlatched the hook holding the door open and prompted Kaeya to ascend back up the stairs so he could close it up tightly.
“So what made you have to push the cellar closed over a little rain?” He asked, watching him stuff a wedge under the door to keep the cool air in.
“Damage. The foundation is hundreds of years old, it’s only natural parts would need replacing sooner than later,” he stripped his gloves off and ascended after him, tossing them on the table as he passed. “We only noticed the split wood in the last month. The materials are still in transit. We decided to build it stronger, naturally, lumber from Sumeru was the choice.”
“That won’t affect the aging process?”
“No, the barrels are still oak and they’re in the other storeroom. The corked bottles won’t be affected by a few replaced support boards. Don’t worry, the wine won’t taste any different,” he shot him a mild look.
“Hey, now, I’m just curious for only the purest reasons”, '' he held his hands up, defensively—even though Diluc knew better.
“Hmm,” he didn’t dignify him with any further commentary, instead, leading him back through the main floor of the winery. He gave a brief summary to Elzer, and asked him to make a trip into Mondstadt to make arrangements for what stock he did have going out. Business made for an excellent cover to get everyone out of the building so he could interface with whatever nonsense Kaeya was dragging through his door.
Once done, he turned to find Kaeya had wandered off to either look around at what changed, or reminisce. Books and trinkets, a few pictures; none of them had been moved in years. At least not by him, because he rarely touched anything outside of what he kept in his own quarters if it wasn’t business related. The place may as well be a well kept, and well dusted, time capsule.
Kaeya stood in front of the window, head turned to inspect the old chest on the fireplace mantle. It hadn’t been moved in years. It hadn’t been opened since they were kids.
“Remember the effort we put into trying to find out what was in that?” He smirked. “Putting you on my shoulder so you could reach it.”
“I remember breaking your leg on the way down.”
“It wasn’t broken, it was a sprain—“
“No, I definitely broke your leg.”
Kaeya ran a hand through his hair and laughed , in a real sort of way that Diluc hated hearing because of the weird feeling that came with it. His laughter sounded foreign, since he’d long ago replaced it with the false chuckle. He could say nothing about it, though, because he never laughed anymore himself. He no longer had the energy to pretend, people would see through him much quicker than Kaeya.
“You just like saying you got one over on me,” he mused when his laughter ebbed. “Imagine if you fell on me now, I’d definitely break bones. You used to be so little,” he snickered and Diluc ground his teeth just a little, forcing himself to control his face as best as he could.
He stepped over to look at the box that had simply turned out to be where his father stored vintage cigars. Had they been wiser kids, they’d have known by the smell coming from it. “As if you could carry me on your shoulders now anyway,” he let a soft snort and took a step away from the mantle.
Before his body even fully faced Kaeya, he felt a hand on his arm, drawing him the rest of the way in his direction. Chilly fingers grazed just a little too long, squeezed a little too intently, and then trailed up his bicep to tease the loose end of his hair. He paused, in movement and breath, when Kaeya’s closeness caught up with his slowed brain. He made no effort to retaliate, not in agreement and not in disagreement. He simply stared him in the face, close enough he could feel his breathing. Close enough he may as well have had his nose against his cheek.
Kaeya slid his arms around his shoulder as casually as a cat stretching in the sun. Like he belonged there.
“You’re being watched,” Kaeya whispered, so close to his face that no one would be able to see his mouth nor hear his words unless they were literally right next to them.
“And this is your method of conveying this information?” He swallowed and whispered back, a little more hoarsely than Kaeya sounded.
Kaeya pressed unnecessarily closer and hummed, “It’s important that they see it, because someone saw me sending letters off to you.”
“Did they intercept it?” He relaxed when he understood the intention. Despite their differences, they worked in relatively similar ways and both had a risk involved with the average contents of their letters.
“No. But everyone knows we don't just chit chat over everyday affairs.”
“So you’d rather they think we’re chit chatting over a different type of affair,” he pursed his lips and tilted his head a little away from the window. “Reputation be damned?”
“The fatui don’t want you to know they’re scoping you out, so they won’t want anyone else to know, anyway. A relatively safe method, I’d say,” he punctuated his reasoning with a thumb stroke across Diluc’s cheek. The action alone almost elicited a defensive growl, but he tempered his attitude back down and committed to the bit. His arms easily circled Kaeya’s thin waist and he briefly enjoyed the half-squawk he squeezed out of him—just to remind him not to take him too lightly.
It backfired, unexpectedly. Oh, it backfired.
“Those arms of yours, Master Diluc,” he drawled, close enough to his face to make him shiver from the tone inflection. “Maybe I just wanted to get a nice feel on them,” he ran a hand down his shoulder to squeeze his fingers in a curl around his bicep.
With the squeeze of those fingers, Diluc’s arms tightened, inadvertently lifting Kaeya off his feet. The shifting of his body made Kaeya’s grip shift back to around his neck, just to keep from tipping back. “Easy, I’m delicate.”
“Delicate—bullshit,” he huffed a short laugh, even if it came out more hostile than he intended. Hostility appeared to be his default and had been ever since he threw hands with Kaeya years before—a distant memory he almost forgot in the moment.
With both Kaeya’s elbows perched easily on his shoulders, he held him high enough that he had to crane his head a little to keep eye contact. Kaeya’s only open eye, glittered with mirth that he hadn’t seen in a while—as if he were truly amused, and having a good time at the expense of Diluc’s thin face. He knew his skin flushed, because he could feel it and the curse of his fair complexion gave him away in an instant; one of many reasons he trained himself to not to react to things. He’d clearly failed spectacularly and if he could step outside his body for a moment, he’d smack the both of them off their feet.
“And here I thought you only had the mouth of a proper gentleman,” he snickered, turning his face and grazing his lips to his cheek. Clearly he was enjoying himself far too much!
“You’ll say anything to irritate me,” he growled against his jaw, tempted to bite him for the sake of it, but refraining because going to that level might be more unbecoming than whatever acts Kaeya pulled. “How long have they been surveying me?” He grunted in his ear.
“Only since the last letter. You have to lay low so they’ll go away,” he hummed, hugging his arms around him. Like he owned the spot!
“Wouldn’t laying low after interfacing with you only add reasons to suspect me? You show up here, and then suddenly my activities change?” He questioned his logic, knowing he probably came from a place of concern—but also remembering that he once got taken as a prisoner by the fatui after being handed over by Kaeya. So concern couldn’t be the only motivator. He certainly wouldn’t let himself believe that.
“A valid point, but I don’t think they’ll underestimate you next time if they do capture you. And my hands are tied with the knights. If they come up with a convincing enough reason to believe you’re the mysterious Darknight Hero, and prove their claim that he’s battering Fatui agents who cross his path in his spare time…then the knights would be obligated to bring you in to keep the peace.” He explained, lips against his skin. No one could hear them and certainly couldn’t read their lips when they hovered so close together—no, Kaeya continued this display just to be a bitch.
“Then I’ll simply have to adjust my plans, and make myself known in a different location than they’re expecting me. While also being within sight of a trusted member of the knights.” He remarked, matter-of-fact and voice calm enough to bat down whatever began to flutter under his ribs.
“Assuming you have the strings to pull to make that happen, how do you suggest we go about that? Mondstadt is fond of their Darknight hero , you know. Such a ruse would have to be very convincing.”
“Augh,” he grimaced and squeezed his arm, digging his fingers into him, in what he hoped to be a threatening aura. “Stop saying that name.” Kaeya knew how little he cared for that silly name the town gave to the person who ran around at night, cleaning up what the knights failed to catch.
He took brief pleasure in feeling him squirm a little, and how he had to suck a breath in because of the vice-like grip Diluc held on him. His fault, he started it.
“Okay, okay, I’m a delicate flower, D. Don’t be so rough, I’ll wilt.”
“I’m sure you will,” he did relax, despite Kaeya—who appeared very comfortable. He tilted a half-lidded, blank look up to him, “you must be terribly bored with the knights if this is how you get your kicks.”
He expected some snarky remark, or a teasing gesture. But he didn’t expect the grin that went all the way to his one sparkling eye and Kaeya to descend his face down and ghost a very light kiss on his mouth. Playing pranks and at his own expense was hardly beyond Kaeya, but he had no ability to predict he’d be that brazen. Kaeya also had a terrible amount of faith in the sturdiness of his grip—unfortunate, because his brain immediately communicated flight to the rest of his body. Very hard to do with a grown man in his arms. So naturally, he let go unintentionally and then their mutual instability left Kaeya dragging them down to the floor; because he had not let go.
Instinct took over, but a little too late. He managed to grab him quick enough that he didn’t have to watch Kaeya smash his head open against the fireplace. Then he did his best to brace, so he didn’t actually just crush him beneath him. The whole incident happened within the span of a blink, and he groaned. Kaeya groaned. Neither of them were dignified in the slightest at that moment.
“Are you okay?” He managed, trying to figure out where to put his hands and knees so he could get back up without making it worse.
“Haha, yeah, nothing’s broken this time!”
He reconsidered putting a knee into his gut, but untangled and scooted into the space next to him. “Next time you want to make this into some affair for your amusement, please warn me.”
“If I warn you, then the plan fails, Master Diluc—loving as a cactus, my Darknight hero.” His smooth words didn’t distract Diluc from the hand that then patted his hip, still set on teasing him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, “if you have any plans to stay for dinner, then you better shut your mouth. We can discuss the plan then. Unless you’re just distracting me from a set up so you can hand me over and absolve the knights.” He tossed the thought out there, but didn’t really mean much by it. After all, they’d discreetly plotted around the fatui before.
The silence that stretched after, unsettled him a little and he looked down to Kaeya—still laying on the wood floor. “Your trust in me may be sketchy at best, but I wouldn’t jeopardize you like that. If that were the case, I don’t think I’d have come this whole way to make a fool out of both of us for prying eyes to misinterpret.”
He didn’t argue, and Kaeya didn’t let the edge in his voice hang for very long before he did sit up and return his face to passively smiling.
“So what’s for dinner anyway?”
“Come on, let’s go find out.”
His trust in Kaeya was more than sketchy at best , but he said nothing in response and chose the silent answer of leading him toward the dining area instead.