[ for all that spatial and temporal locations have become increasingly loose as of late, diluc supposes that this particular jolt back into the arms of one teyvat was not among the worst he's experienced. kaeya trips up into the winery as gracelessly as he does, the drop off-centered and perilous on the rounded lip of their exterior landing. he almost tastes the ache of eating the edge of it with the cut of his mouth like he did as a child. almost.
even so, it doesn't stop him from steadying kaeya beside him instinctively. an arm curls out, a hand dips in. he sinks his fingers into the flesh at his hip, swaying with the residual impact of neon and highs and sounds incomprehensible to even the most mundane of fontaineans.
but, diluc has priorities. admittedly, they're quite fatigued priorities, but the bar of his arm lifts from the small of kaeya's back as he works open the grand, wooden doors. he knows they have little more than a quarter of an hour before the sun slants up and through the bedroom windows. and he knows, too, that his staff will expect him to be resting there. ]
Hurry up and come inside, [ he says, voice pitched low across the lazy stretch of oncoming sunlight. he sweeps up his once abandoned coat at the threshold as he waves him along, the earthy color of oxidized blood branched like craquelure across the stiff collar. ] Adelinde and the others should be reporting in soon.
[ he tosses a glance back, lets his hand linger in the scant distance between - hooks his index finger into the leather fasten of his glove. ]
[ it is, perhaps, slightly suspicious just how clumsily kaeya stumbles through the doorway of the winery as they're unceremoniously deposited back home. sure, he's dealing with both the aftereffects of the strange fruit they imbibed as well as a sack stuffed with enough toy prizes to stock a small store hauled over his shoulder, but it isn't as though inebriation has ever managed to sap the intrinsic grace from his limbs before. disorientation also only works so far as an excuse; for all that he pretends khaenri'ah has faded in memory, his uncanny night vision and ability to adjust to sudden changes in light remain sharp as ever.
and yet for some inexplicable reason, their return seems to have knocked kaeya so far off balance that he is forced, forced, to lean all his weight into diluc's arm around his waist and press his entire body up against his side. how weird??? maybe that fruit affected him more than he'd let on!! ]
Sneaking into your bedroom this late like a couple of teenagers? How utterly improper of you, Master Diluc.
[ not that they hadn't been guilty of doing the exact same in their youth, mostly at kaeya's instigation, but the air had never crackled with such electricity back then. admittedly he's probably the only one noticing the charged tension now - he knows full well diluc has zero awareness of the devastation he leaves in his wake every time he so much as flexes - but not for long, if he has anything to say about it. it's never exactly been that difficult to change diluc's priorities before, after all. ]
What's the hurry? It's not as if they're not used to your late hours by now.
[ one day he ought to gently break it to diluc that most of his staff already know of his vigilante activities...not tonight, though. he's got other priorities in mind, trailing his fingers down the back of diluc's hand as he tugs on his glove - a tug that despite the complete lack of force behind it, seems to knock kaeya so off balance that he has no choice but to lean even more into the already near nonexistent space between them. whoops! clumsy him! ]
We're not— [ diluc takes a breath, feels kaeya's weight shift certain and already up against the line of him. they'd always been as this: torn across the tessellated boundary of sinew and skin. no matter how hard diluc might have pressed his hand in his, he could never quite surpass the separation. he could never wholly house the ephemera of his soul, the heat of his own spirit within the vaulted ceiling of kaeya's ribs. even now, he feels the visceral grip of wanting, the ache of his teeth as he chews over the words that stick stubborn to the enamel, that break over the edge. ] Never mind.
[ the exhalation that yawns up from him isn't a sigh as much as it is an admittance. his eyes drag down to kaeya's fingers as they map along his hand, his mouth parting against what he seems to want to utter, but can't also find. and yet, it does nothing to negate token protestation in the form of a grumble. piecemealing complaints around something akin to "only Adelinde," diluc feints at barely indulging kaeya's heavy list, the inherent "clumsiness" kaeya's settled on tonight.
if kaeya looks to carry a current, he's known diluc well enough that it won't take more than a moment. it's already broken along diluc's expression, made itself known in the kindling color that fans up to the tips of his ears. for all he knows not at all of any of his own "appeal," he knows plenty of kaeya's. and he knows, too, that kaeya has found a steady interest in him.
he clears his throat, doesn't meet kaeya's lone eye, but he needn't have to. the tug on his glove starts up again, reeling him in closer for what is surely only "balance" or "convenience," but mainly so he might... well, he supposes he'll decide on it in a moment. once he's gotten kaeya situated in such a way that he tip his head up to catch the corner of his jaw in a sort of absent protest with less lips and more teeth. ]
Hurry up.
[ this time, it isn't pushy suggestion. but, considering the position they're in, it falls short of a true command. ]
Yes, I slept last night; yes, it was for more than three hours (3.5 approximately); yes, my desk is covered in a full-scale Kjerag mountain peak of paperwork; no, I will not be going back to bed until I've fully read through this 65-page document detailing opening trade with Bolivar. Any questions?
[ even as a misfire, why does this sound eerily similar to his own lifestyle... ]
Quite a few, in fact! Namely concerning the trade with Bolivar. What are the current proposals being discussed? Primary exports and imports? Perhaps talking it through will help spark some creative ideas!
[ in other words, he's bored and would much rather gather juicy deets about other worlds rather than attend to his own mountain of paperwork.... ]
[ not really a pity, but more a pity for kaeya's poor ability to rest when away from wine. and other things. he huffs. ]
Unlike someone, I have no access to a certain magic missive that whisks the recipient anywhere. And now that our "host" has fixed our regional roulette...
Ha! You'll have to work a lot harder at knocking me out for that to ever happen.
[ kaeya will literally die before letting someone get the last word on him? and even then, he'll just come back as a ghost just to make sure it doesn't happen. ]
My, is that a note of envy I detect, Master Diluc? If you're extra nice to me, perhaps I'll take you along next time Klee wishes to visit...provided that you're up to the task of riding the trains in the domain all day, of course.
[ this is definitely for klee's sake and not at all because it will be hilarious watching diluc try not to hurl, of course. ]
Putting all the onus on me? But I'm too tired to think of anything, alas! How about you tell me a bedtime story and we'll see?
[ but, not that he's... not considering how to get the last word in? he supposes one method or another might be considered cheating, but... well. all's fair and so on. but, the confirmation that he'd always bother him was in its own way comforting. he knows, but it's never disappointing to hear. ]
I have no idea what you're hearing, Sir Kaeya.
[ not that he's considering it. sort of. at least with just him. anyway, he can surely hear the little "hmph" that accompanies the next sentence. ]
Just how many times has she made you ride those... Carriages?
[ not because he's concerned or anything or knows he'd definitely hurl if he drew him up on it!! ]
I'm not the one a considerable trek from the nearest tavern. [ a beat. ] And I'm not telling you a bedtime story.
[ he absolutely will, but you know. has to play the game first. ]
Oh, I have remarkably sharp ears. For instance, just now I seem to have heard a grumpy 'hmph' carried to me by the winds of a distant land....
[ not only can he hear the hmph, he can also envision the slight jutting of the lip into a sulky pout in front of him now...probably underneath a dumb owl mask, what with the late hour. ]
Made me? Our lovely little Spark Knight is far too kindhearted to force anyone reluctant into accompanying her. Some of us are still in touch with our inner child and like to have fun too, you know.
[ if there's one person he gets immediately defensive over - aside from the one he's talking to now - it's klee...even if half the reason he joined her on too many rollercoaster rides to count was to catch all the bombs that would inevitably spill from her backpack. frankly, they could have gone even faster as far as he's concerned to be any fun. ]
Ah, but perhaps you've improved your skills over the years and no longer give the ending away five minutes into the story! Or maybe it's the material you were working with that gave you such issue...how about you try a more adult story and see if you fare any better?
And some of us have to ask to ensure you're not irreparably damaging the equilibrium of two of the more competent Knights.
[ weird little pause here, notably not of his own volition. he'd have been quick to append the following if he wasn't busy elsewhere. when he comes back to the ink, it makes itself muddy with the color of something decidedly less pitch. ]
I have trouble enough playing nursemaid to the woes of the others in my tavern, never mind having to listen to them lament their additional hours.
[ unsurprisingly, diluc worries about kaeya and by extension klee due to his fondness of her. she isn't a bad kid, he guesses. he's never seen a reason to be stern with her, no matter how destructive she might sometimes be. ]
More adult fare? [ oh no. ] Fine.
I spent the bulk of my day participating in meetings regarding the state of public access routes. As you well know, many of them have fallen into disrepair and it has made it exceedingly difficult for untrained hands to move product reliably. I've had to step in on several occasions to clear routes ahead of the caravans. However, my schedule will not always permit me to assist. And so—
...well, this person seems keen on it, so fuck it, it's not like this could go south.]
Bolivar boasts lands with rich Originium deposits. Though dangerous to mine, the technology afforded by processed Originium cannot be overlooked so easily — it is used in batteries, Arts units, power systems, and other electronics, to name a few. Therefore, in an effort to catch Kjerag up with the rest of Terra, I seek to open trade routes for Originium and related technologies, though ideally, I would like to begin the import of tropical fruits as well.
For our part, we, too, mine. Kjerag sports bountiful natural resources that a developed country such as Bolivar lacks — petroleum & petroleum gas, certain types of stone, wood, & furs.
There are additional details contained within the documents proposing the construction of a dam on the Bolivarian coastline to ease with seafaring trade closer to Kjerag, as well as the promise to supply them with materials to make their ships more easily able to navigate and survive the frozen ocean surrounding our nation.
Who, little old me? I'm flattered you think I hold such sway over my colleagues, but I doubt an entire army of ruin guards could so much as scratch either of their equilibriums.
[ well, maybe klee's a little easier to manipulate...but teaching her important life lessons about how to avoid getting caught for the crimes she's committed is a great influence! ]
You could always send them Diona's way, it's not like she could hate you more. Or just tell them it's part and parcel of their knight training. I can't always be around to pick up the slack.
[ his mountain of paperwork is already huge enough as it is??? and that's not even including jean's share that he sneaks off with to stop her dying early of overwork??? ]
How can I judge when you haven't even gotten to the good part yet? What happens after you clear the routes and get all splattered in mud? Do you take your shirt off and use it to slowly wipe off all the dirt and sweat? Or do you strip down to draw up a bath instead? Paint me a word picture.
[ never forget there's two little shits in this relationship, ragnvindr. ]
Don't let it go to your head, Alberich. The bar won't require a high jump.
[ SNIFFS INDIGNANTLY ETC ETC. ]
I'd rather not. As much as she and I have similar philosophies, a competitor is still a competitor.
[ but: u g h. ]
There's nothing to paint a picture over when Adelinde forces you to strip as much as modesty would allow at the front door.
And there's nothing appealing about dirt in the bathwater, much less the cauterizing of minor wounds. My hair took an hour to untangle. I looked like a mess.
Too late, I shall be going around the rest of the week with an inflated head because the uncrowned king of Mondstadt deigned to pay me a scrap of praise. I'm already having trouble fitting my eyepatch, that's how big my head has become.
[ though really, it has much less to do with the (completely made-up in his mind) flattery and more with getting any attention from diluc at all...pathetic. ]
And I'm sure it has nothing to do with you secretly enjoying being able to eavesdrop on all the various woes of the knights.
[ he knows! he knows diluc would perish without all that fuel for his grumbling and complaining! ]
Oh, I quite object, I'm enjoying this picture thoroughly. That you bothered to untangle your hair at all is already nearly too titillating to handle. Besides, I rather like you messy...it's more honest than that gentlemanly demeanor you put on.
[ whoops, was that a smidgen of sincerity in there? better backpedal immediately. ]
And of course there's something to be said about the clean up afterwards! Do go on. How thoroughly did you wash up? Spare no detail.
I hope dearly that eyepatch of yours cuts into your circulation.
[ so mean, master diluc. but: ]
You idiot, [ so softly, so fondly. he can probably hear the look he'd give him if he was there with him, bleeding as he is rather steadily on the pages of this thoroughly ruined journal. at least most of it isn't his. ] Only you would ever think that.
[ but, he better veer a little back to his usual grumbling. ] And I've always kept my hair presentable. My lack of product doesn't make it unacceptable by any stretch.
[ he just prefers that kaeya do it. he's always been more patient with him than he has ever been with himself.
there's a significant pause, mostly because he has to work up to the intimacy of details because he's maybe decided to humor him a little. ]
You know I don't bother paying that much mind to myself. I only bother to be thorough with you.
[ rip in pieces kaeya. you asked for it??? ]
I found myself missing the, [ god this is so embarrassing. ] pleasure of working my hands through your hair.
[ kill him kill him kill him ]
Edited (just fuckin up my code it's fine ) 2023-07-16 02:02 (UTC)
[ he sleeps in snatches, fragments of moments tossed about the sheets like the maps he's drawn up by hand and the missives he's gathered. paper curls like the thick of his hair as he breathes in against the pillows on side of the bed he does not often occupy, the faint scent of oils and balms left hours after its resident left.
he'd done the same back then, he thinks. he'd done the same in the nights that eclipsed the days that stretched golden and endless, worry lurching hungry and restless from the bottom of his chest. he hadn't known where kaeya had gone in those hours that felt as though weeks, hadn't known of the world that would await them both at the tail of their childhoods. he hadn't known he would love him anyway, as hopeless as before and hopeless even still. no matter the unbroken weave of fate— he knows it silly to think on it. irrational, to believe that kaeya should have found something else in the deserts to discard the life he's built here against the odds of all and any.
the child he once was still dreads either way.
and so, perhaps it is not too unexpected that the barest tap against the thick panes of his window stirs him. there is no greenery that stretches its arms far enough to scratch against his corner of the manor (has never been) and already he's unspooling himself from the linens and shuffling papers off of the bed. they scatter about the pale of his bare feet as he sets them against the floor, wobbles uncertainly.
he's dressed in unseemly nightclothes, oversized and worn to softness, but it doesn't matter to him. not in this moment. and it is only because—
the figure that greets him is known as unlatches the window, pushes it outward enough to allow them entry. ]
In, [ he commands, though it comes as more a grumble. he leans, one hand against the windowsill and one hand reaching out. his fingers clasp for any bit of kaeya, the warm dip of his waist or the bird bones of his wrist. sleep drunk and warmed as he is, he squints against the sliver of the moon and seeks to haul him in. whether it be to rest against the polished floors of his bedroom or into the circle of his arms - it doesn't matter to him. what matters is that he is here, insufferable as he might be always.
he missed him, of course. but, even with dark shadows that smudge beneath his eyes, he won't tell him with his mouth. ]
[ it probably comes as a surprise to those who know him best that kaeya does not make an immediate beeline for angel's share when he returns to mondstadt, despite how his gaze flickers towards the tavern's direction the moment he steps foot through the gates. there's a couple of extremely practical reasons why he puts off their reunion: one, as much as he appreciated the time off, he'd rather avoid being arrested for allowing poor jean to suffocate and perish underneath a mountain of paperwork because her second-in-command went on a week's vacation. two, lisa greeted him with a pointed comment about missing his better half, and it really wouldn't do to let her grow too smug.
and most importantly three, it would only behoove a rich young master like diluc to develop patience instead of getting what he wants immediately every now and then. this is entirely for his own benefit! this definitely isn't due to any petty revenge to force him into being the one waiting for once!
so despite his eagerness to settle back into his two favorite hobbies (drinking and annoying diluc), kaeya heads back to his quarters after rescuing jean from death via a thousand papercuts. there, as the sky dims from pink to pitch and the moon begins to rise, he buckles down into his real work of the night. he brushes oil into his hair until it falls soft and sleek, braiding a single red bead into the side. with expert strokes, he paints a fresh coat of varnish over his nails, kohl around his eyes, color over his lips. his new outfit he drapes and tugs to cling a little more tightly to certain areas and expose slightly more skin in other areas than he'd allowed in front of klee's innocent eyes. as a final touch, he replaces his usual earring with the one from a ruby tiepin instead, anticipation buzzing hotly through his veins.
...it all seems like such a waste of time when even in unflattering baggy nightwear and a bleary face still creased from sleep, the moonlight tempering diluc's fire into an ethereal glow still manages to put all his efforts to shame. kaeya would feel slightly guilty over the bags underneath his eyes if he wasn't too busy fuming at the unfairness of it all. ]
Inviting me in so easily? You ought to be careful, Master Diluc, lest a ferocious bandit like myself come steal all your riches away.
[ and yet despite his lauded acting skills and determination to roleplay, he finds himself slipping into diluc's arms without any hesitation after all, unable to resist the siren's call of his warmth as always - breathing him in, some unknown weight falling off his shoulders at last. ]
[ like the eager slant of sun, like the winding down of days - kaeya's body against his feels the same way. it feels as though the completion of a thought, the answer of a question he had not quite formed. kaeya, who has always been to diluc so many things, is not without his complexities now. and yet, all that is dark and aching in diluc dampens. water pail to glowing ashes, he feels blanketed by kaeya's certainty of form - the way he returned, no matter his hours away.
and so, it is no surprise that he supplies sincerely and sweetly the moment that kaeya steps into arms: ]
As if you hadn't already. [ it is a mumble, but the words honey themselves in the last vestiges of sleep. he winds his hands around to kaeya's back, smooths the meat of his thumbs against the rising steps of his back. he'll have to tell adelinde there shall be two plates in the morning, to modify the usual course of his breakfasts to feed kaeya and his ever-shrinking waist. he makes a little noise of discontent as he buries his nose against the dark curve of his neck, rests his mouth against the fluttering artery that works its way beneath the skin.
he hadn't not noticed the outfit kaeya had climbed the old masonry in, but he hadn't been able to properly process the intricate lay of beads and feathers - the heavy slide of solid golds. he feels along the pliable fabric, thoughtless and indolent. it feels lovely, he thinks. as lovely as he is. ]
Beautiful. [ a tender non sequitur. he finds himself letting it melt off his tongue, round itself against kaeya's bared shoulder. in the petulant parts of himself, he thinks how unjust it was of kaeya to make him wait. he takes a breath. ] If only I weren't the last to have seen it.
[ he knows better, but it is all for the act. a fine thread diluc weaves through his fingers and back to his. he knows it better than anyone that kaeya had arrived in mondstadt earlier that day, but no stitch of unusual clothing was found upon him. and he knows, too, that kaeya knows it. ]
Lies and slander. Your wine cellar is still fully stocked, is it not?
[ of course he knows that isn't what diluc means, just as he knows diluc knows getting kaeya to accept a single cent of the ragnvindr riches has always and will always be akin to pulling teeth. he can read the implication behind the words perfectly fine, but thinking about phrases like stealing away a certain someone's heart makes him want to jump straight back out of the window, and he's put far too much effort into his attire for it to simply go to waste.
...not that diluc is any help in that regard, and he finds himself grateful for the night's shadows as it hides the darkness of the flush creeping across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. he's been called beautiful many times before, of course, and brushed it off as his due every time, but hearing the word fall from diluc's mouth - soft and reverent, more breath than sound - leaves him as shy and flustered as if he were a child once more. like this, he can almost believe that diluc has somehow managed to see past his polished physical exterior to the rotten core underneath, and despite all evidence to the contrary, finds him...beautiful. ]
My, what would your fans say if they knew of how greedy the gentlemanly Master Diluc could be?
[ he places a hand between them, breaking the embrace, to push diluc lightly towards the bed - partly to tease and titillate, partly in self-defense against the relentless tenderness he's being so ruthlessly attacked with. he is a creature of ice and chill after all, both as guarded as a glacier and fragile as frost, and diluc is nothing if not the sun, the furnace, the crackle of a hearth and roar of an inferno. too close and too long in his grasp, kaeya often fears, and he may just melt away until there's nothing left.
sometimes, he thinks he may just one day let him.
but not today. he has other rather more fun activities in mind, eye narrowing in sharp amusement as he tosses his braid behind him, hips swaying just enough to hear the rustle of fabric and the jangle of jewelry with each step he takes towards the bed.]
Would it soothe your ire to know that you're the only one getting a private show? You better be grateful.
[ the heat kaeya holds in his skin is fleeting, as much as fire itself is. diluc knows he toes the precipice of tolerance, peers over the edge - he knows it, because he knows himself. he knows it, because fire always starves itself. and yet, he thinks he should like to wield as though a warm slant of sunlight or the sliver of some dawn. he thinks he would like to make bloom in kaeya the recognition of what he is, as much as he must think - ]
It's nothing new, [ he retorts, disturbed as a smoldering bonfire is. disgruntled, to be risen from the place he's burrowed himself against. the hand that parts them is rude, but he obeys it. he sniffs. ] You take from my cellars whenever it pleases you.
[ tit-for-tat. he sees the wound in his defense and leaves it to bleed against the separation, reluctant as diluc is to be parted from the grey shadows that lap at the boundary of his skin. that feeling rides in the cut of his shoulders, in the downward curve of his mouth, but his eyes - they follow kaeya as an ember follows kindling. they burn a searching line from the familiar round of kaeya's hips up to the bright catch of amusement that banks itself against the lone star of his eye, in the parting of his lips.
comprehension of what kaeya tells him comes against the impulse to know what it is to wrap the dark of his thick braid about his closed fist. it comes, too, against the want so deep it aches in his teeth: what would it be to pull? to harness?
the weight of it settles him against the bed, body permissive as much as his mouth and mind put up resistance.
it's a game. play the game.
be good. ]
Maybe, [ diluc ekes out. at least, that would be his perception. instead, the pause of it is weighted like a sword in the hand - a bundle of fresh calla lilies, dredged from vernal shores. for all that he is dressed in modest nightclothes, he knows better than to think it hides him the quick of kaeya's insight anymore.
how quick he's always been, to be flayed against kaeya's whims. even now, his hands rest against the rumpled sheets. he lifts his chin.
and still, as always and ever, he worries the inside of his own mouth. ]
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( after the party. )
even so, it doesn't stop him from steadying kaeya beside him instinctively. an arm curls out, a hand dips in. he sinks his fingers into the flesh at his hip, swaying with the residual impact of neon and highs and sounds incomprehensible to even the most mundane of fontaineans.
but, diluc has priorities. admittedly, they're quite fatigued priorities, but the bar of his arm lifts from the small of kaeya's back as he works open the grand, wooden doors. he knows they have little more than a quarter of an hour before the sun slants up and through the bedroom windows. and he knows, too, that his staff will expect him to be resting there. ]
Hurry up and come inside, [ he says, voice pitched low across the lazy stretch of oncoming sunlight. he sweeps up his once abandoned coat at the threshold as he waves him along, the earthy color of oxidized blood branched like craquelure across the stiff collar. ] Adelinde and the others should be reporting in soon.
[ he tosses a glance back, lets his hand linger in the scant distance between - hooks his index finger into the leather fasten of his glove. ]
no subject
and yet for some inexplicable reason, their return seems to have knocked kaeya so far off balance that he is forced, forced, to lean all his weight into diluc's arm around his waist and press his entire body up against his side. how weird??? maybe that fruit affected him more than he'd let on!! ]
Sneaking into your bedroom this late like a couple of teenagers? How utterly improper of you, Master Diluc.
[ not that they hadn't been guilty of doing the exact same in their youth, mostly at kaeya's instigation, but the air had never crackled with such electricity back then. admittedly he's probably the only one noticing the charged tension now - he knows full well diluc has zero awareness of the devastation he leaves in his wake every time he so much as flexes - but not for long, if he has anything to say about it. it's never exactly been that difficult to change diluc's priorities before, after all. ]
What's the hurry? It's not as if they're not used to your late hours by now.
[ one day he ought to gently break it to diluc that most of his staff already know of his vigilante activities...not tonight, though. he's got other priorities in mind, trailing his fingers down the back of diluc's hand as he tugs on his glove - a tug that despite the complete lack of force behind it, seems to knock kaeya so off balance that he has no choice but to lean even more into the already near nonexistent space between them. whoops! clumsy him! ]
no subject
[ the exhalation that yawns up from him isn't a sigh as much as it is an admittance. his eyes drag down to kaeya's fingers as they map along his hand, his mouth parting against what he seems to want to utter, but can't also find. and yet, it does nothing to negate token protestation in the form of a grumble. piecemealing complaints around something akin to "only Adelinde," diluc feints at barely indulging kaeya's heavy list, the inherent "clumsiness" kaeya's settled on tonight.
if kaeya looks to carry a current, he's known diluc well enough that it won't take more than a moment. it's already broken along diluc's expression, made itself known in the kindling color that fans up to the tips of his ears. for all he knows not at all of any of his own "appeal," he knows plenty of kaeya's. and he knows, too, that kaeya has found a steady interest in him.
he clears his throat, doesn't meet kaeya's lone eye, but he needn't have to. the tug on his glove starts up again, reeling him in closer for what is surely only "balance" or "convenience," but mainly so he might... well, he supposes he'll decide on it in a moment. once he's gotten kaeya situated in such a way that he tip his head up to catch the corner of his jaw in a sort of absent protest with less lips and more teeth. ]
Hurry up.
[ this time, it isn't pushy suggestion. but, considering the position they're in, it falls short of a true command. ]
@VIGOROUS; not a misfire finally
Am I to take it that you've managed to finally fall asleep?
Good. Get some rest.
@snowcap; misfire
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You ought to make it up to me for so cruelly interrupting my beauty sleep. I find that wine works quite well for me as a soporific.
no subject
Quite a few, in fact! Namely concerning the trade with Bolivar. What are the current proposals being discussed? Primary exports and imports? Perhaps talking it through will help spark some creative ideas!
[ in other words, he's bored and would much rather gather juicy deets about other worlds rather than attend to his own mountain of paperwork.... ]
no subject
[ not really a pity, but more a pity for kaeya's poor ability to rest when away from wine. and other things. he huffs. ]
Unlike someone, I have no access to a certain magic missive that whisks the recipient anywhere. And now that our "host" has fixed our regional roulette...
[ he pauses, writes again. ]
It seems you'll have to think of something else.
no subject
[ kaeya will literally die before letting someone get the last word on him? and even then, he'll just come back as a ghost just to make sure it doesn't happen. ]
My, is that a note of envy I detect, Master Diluc? If you're extra nice to me, perhaps I'll take you along next time Klee wishes to visit...provided that you're up to the task of riding the trains in the domain all day, of course.
[ this is definitely for klee's sake and not at all because it will be hilarious watching diluc try not to hurl, of course. ]
Putting all the onus on me? But I'm too tired to think of anything, alas! How about you tell me a bedtime story and we'll see?
no subject
[ but, not that he's... not considering how to get the last word in? he supposes one method or another might be considered cheating, but... well. all's fair and so on. but, the confirmation that he'd always bother him was in its own way comforting. he knows, but it's never disappointing to hear. ]
I have no idea what you're hearing, Sir Kaeya.
[ not that he's considering it. sort of. at least with just him. anyway, he can surely hear the little "hmph" that accompanies the next sentence. ]
Just how many times has she made you ride those... Carriages?
[ not because he's concerned or anything or knows he'd definitely hurl if he drew him up on it!! ]
I'm not the one a considerable trek from the nearest tavern. [ a beat. ] And I'm not telling you a bedtime story.
[ he absolutely will, but you know. has to play the game first. ]
You always complained mine were terrible anyway.
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[ not only can he hear the hmph, he can also envision the slight jutting of the lip into a sulky pout in front of him now...probably underneath a dumb owl mask, what with the late hour. ]
Made me? Our lovely little Spark Knight is far too kindhearted to force anyone reluctant into accompanying her. Some of us are still in touch with our inner child and like to have fun too, you know.
[ if there's one person he gets immediately defensive over - aside from the one he's talking to now - it's klee...even if half the reason he joined her on too many rollercoaster rides to count was to catch all the bombs that would inevitably spill from her backpack. frankly, they could have gone even faster as far as he's concerned to be any fun. ]
Ah, but perhaps you've improved your skills over the years and no longer give the ending away five minutes into the story! Or maybe it's the material you were working with that gave you such issue...how about you try a more adult story and see if you fare any better?
[ talk dirty to him diluc ]
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[ weird little pause here, notably not of his own volition. he'd have been quick to append the following if he wasn't busy elsewhere. when he comes back to the ink, it makes itself muddy with the color of something decidedly less pitch. ]
I have trouble enough playing nursemaid to the woes of the others in my tavern, never mind having to listen to them lament their additional hours.
[ unsurprisingly, diluc worries about kaeya and by extension klee due to his fondness of her. she isn't a bad kid, he guesses. he's never seen a reason to be stern with her, no matter how destructive she might sometimes be. ]
More adult fare? [ oh no. ] Fine.
I spent the bulk of my day participating in meetings regarding the state of public access routes. As you well know, many of them have fallen into disrepair and it has made it exceedingly difficult for untrained hands to move product reliably. I've had to step in on several occasions to clear routes ahead of the caravans. However, my schedule will not always permit me to assist. And so—
Suitable enough for you?
[ this fucking little shit. ]
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...well, this person seems keen on it, so fuck it, it's not like this could go south.]
Bolivar boasts lands with rich Originium deposits. Though dangerous to mine, the technology afforded by processed Originium cannot be overlooked so easily — it is used in batteries, Arts units, power systems, and other electronics, to name a few. Therefore, in an effort to catch Kjerag up with the rest of Terra, I seek to open trade routes for Originium and related technologies, though ideally, I would like to begin the import of tropical fruits as well.
For our part, we, too, mine. Kjerag sports bountiful natural resources that a developed country such as Bolivar lacks — petroleum & petroleum gas, certain types of stone, wood, & furs.
There are additional details contained within the documents proposing the construction of a dam on the Bolivarian coastline to ease with seafaring trade closer to Kjerag, as well as the promise to supply them with materials to make their ships more easily able to navigate and survive the frozen ocean surrounding our nation.
What do you think?
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[ well, maybe klee's a little easier to manipulate...but teaching her important life lessons about how to avoid getting caught for the crimes she's committed is a great influence! ]
You could always send them Diona's way, it's not like she could hate you more. Or just tell them it's part and parcel of their knight training. I can't always be around to pick up the slack.
[ his mountain of paperwork is already huge enough as it is??? and that's not even including jean's share that he sneaks off with to stop her dying early of overwork??? ]
How can I judge when you haven't even gotten to the good part yet? What happens after you clear the routes and get all splattered in mud? Do you take your shirt off and use it to slowly wipe off all the dirt and sweat? Or do you strip down to draw up a bath instead? Paint me a word picture.
[ never forget there's two little shits in this relationship, ragnvindr. ]
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[ SNIFFS INDIGNANTLY ETC ETC. ]
I'd rather not. As much as she and I have similar philosophies, a competitor is still a competitor.
[ but: u g h. ]
There's nothing to paint a picture over when Adelinde forces you to strip as much as modesty would allow at the front door.
And there's nothing appealing about dirt in the bathwater, much less the cauterizing of minor wounds. My hair took an hour to untangle. I looked like a mess.
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[ though really, it has much less to do with the (completely made-up in his mind) flattery and more with getting any attention from diluc at all...pathetic. ]
And I'm sure it has nothing to do with you secretly enjoying being able to eavesdrop on all the various woes of the knights.
[ he knows! he knows diluc would perish without all that fuel for his grumbling and complaining! ]
Oh, I quite object, I'm enjoying this picture thoroughly. That you bothered to untangle your hair at all is already nearly too titillating to handle. Besides, I rather like you messy...it's more honest than that gentlemanly demeanor you put on.
[ whoops, was that a smidgen of sincerity in there? better backpedal immediately. ]
And of course there's something to be said about the clean up afterwards! Do go on. How thoroughly did you wash up? Spare no detail.
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[ so mean, master diluc. but: ]
You idiot, [ so softly, so fondly. he can probably hear the look he'd give him if he was there with him, bleeding as he is rather steadily on the pages of this thoroughly ruined journal. at least most of it isn't his. ] Only you would ever think that.
[ but, he better veer a little back to his usual grumbling. ] And I've always kept my hair presentable. My lack of product doesn't make it unacceptable by any stretch.
[ he just prefers that kaeya do it. he's always been more patient with him than he has ever been with himself.
there's a significant pause, mostly because he has to work up to the intimacy of details because he's maybe decided to humor him a little. ]
You know I don't bother paying that much mind to myself. I only bother to be thorough with you.
[ rip in pieces kaeya. you asked for it??? ]
I found myself missing the, [ god this is so embarrassing. ] pleasure of working my hands through your hair.
[ kill him kill him kill him ]
( post-sumeru. )
he'd done the same back then, he thinks. he'd done the same in the nights that eclipsed the days that stretched golden and endless, worry lurching hungry and restless from the bottom of his chest. he hadn't known where kaeya had gone in those hours that felt as though weeks, hadn't known of the world that would await them both at the tail of their childhoods. he hadn't known he would love him anyway, as hopeless as before and hopeless even still. no matter the unbroken weave of fate— he knows it silly to think on it. irrational, to believe that kaeya should have found something else in the deserts to discard the life he's built here against the odds of all and any.
the child he once was still dreads either way.
and so, perhaps it is not too unexpected that the barest tap against the thick panes of his window stirs him. there is no greenery that stretches its arms far enough to scratch against his corner of the manor (has never been) and already he's unspooling himself from the linens and shuffling papers off of the bed. they scatter about the pale of his bare feet as he sets them against the floor, wobbles uncertainly.
he's dressed in unseemly nightclothes, oversized and worn to softness, but it doesn't matter to him. not in this moment. and it is only because—
the figure that greets him is known as unlatches the window, pushes it outward enough to allow them entry. ]
In, [ he commands, though it comes as more a grumble. he leans, one hand against the windowsill and one hand reaching out. his fingers clasp for any bit of kaeya, the warm dip of his waist or the bird bones of his wrist. sleep drunk and warmed as he is, he squints against the sliver of the moon and seeks to haul him in. whether it be to rest against the polished floors of his bedroom or into the circle of his arms - it doesn't matter to him. what matters is that he is here, insufferable as he might be always.
he missed him, of course. but, even with dark shadows that smudge beneath his eyes, he won't tell him with his mouth. ]
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and most importantly three, it would only behoove a rich young master like diluc to develop patience instead of getting what he wants immediately every now and then. this is entirely for his own benefit! this definitely isn't due to any petty revenge to force him into being the one waiting for once!
so despite his eagerness to settle back into his two favorite hobbies (drinking and annoying diluc), kaeya heads back to his quarters after rescuing jean from death via a thousand papercuts. there, as the sky dims from pink to pitch and the moon begins to rise, he buckles down into his real work of the night. he brushes oil into his hair until it falls soft and sleek, braiding a single red bead into the side. with expert strokes, he paints a fresh coat of varnish over his nails, kohl around his eyes, color over his lips. his new outfit he drapes and tugs to cling a little more tightly to certain areas and expose slightly more skin in other areas than he'd allowed in front of klee's innocent eyes. as a final touch, he replaces his usual earring with the one from a ruby tiepin instead, anticipation buzzing hotly through his veins.
...it all seems like such a waste of time when even in unflattering baggy nightwear and a bleary face still creased from sleep, the moonlight tempering diluc's fire into an ethereal glow still manages to put all his efforts to shame. kaeya would feel slightly guilty over the bags underneath his eyes if he wasn't too busy fuming at the unfairness of it all. ]
Inviting me in so easily? You ought to be careful, Master Diluc, lest a ferocious bandit like myself come steal all your riches away.
[ and yet despite his lauded acting skills and determination to roleplay, he finds himself slipping into diluc's arms without any hesitation after all, unable to resist the siren's call of his warmth as always - breathing him in, some unknown weight falling off his shoulders at last. ]
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and so, it is no surprise that he supplies sincerely and sweetly the moment that kaeya steps into arms: ]
As if you hadn't already. [ it is a mumble, but the words honey themselves in the last vestiges of sleep. he winds his hands around to kaeya's back, smooths the meat of his thumbs against the rising steps of his back. he'll have to tell adelinde there shall be two plates in the morning, to modify the usual course of his breakfasts to feed kaeya and his ever-shrinking waist. he makes a little noise of discontent as he buries his nose against the dark curve of his neck, rests his mouth against the fluttering artery that works its way beneath the skin.
he hadn't not noticed the outfit kaeya had climbed the old masonry in, but he hadn't been able to properly process the intricate lay of beads and feathers - the heavy slide of solid golds. he feels along the pliable fabric, thoughtless and indolent. it feels lovely, he thinks. as lovely as he is. ]
Beautiful. [ a tender non sequitur. he finds himself letting it melt off his tongue, round itself against kaeya's bared shoulder. in the petulant parts of himself, he thinks how unjust it was of kaeya to make him wait. he takes a breath. ] If only I weren't the last to have seen it.
[ he knows better, but it is all for the act. a fine thread diluc weaves through his fingers and back to his. he knows it better than anyone that kaeya had arrived in mondstadt earlier that day, but no stitch of unusual clothing was found upon him. and he knows, too, that kaeya knows it. ]
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[ of course he knows that isn't what diluc means, just as he knows diluc knows getting kaeya to accept a single cent of the ragnvindr riches has always and will always be akin to pulling teeth. he can read the implication behind the words perfectly fine, but thinking about phrases like stealing away a certain someone's heart makes him want to jump straight back out of the window, and he's put far too much effort into his attire for it to simply go to waste.
...not that diluc is any help in that regard, and he finds himself grateful for the night's shadows as it hides the darkness of the flush creeping across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. he's been called beautiful many times before, of course, and brushed it off as his due every time, but hearing the word fall from diluc's mouth - soft and reverent, more breath than sound - leaves him as shy and flustered as if he were a child once more. like this, he can almost believe that diluc has somehow managed to see past his polished physical exterior to the rotten core underneath, and despite all evidence to the contrary, finds him...beautiful. ]
My, what would your fans say if they knew of how greedy the gentlemanly Master Diluc could be?
[ he places a hand between them, breaking the embrace, to push diluc lightly towards the bed - partly to tease and titillate, partly in self-defense against the relentless tenderness he's being so ruthlessly attacked with. he is a creature of ice and chill after all, both as guarded as a glacier and fragile as frost, and diluc is nothing if not the sun, the furnace, the crackle of a hearth and roar of an inferno. too close and too long in his grasp, kaeya often fears, and he may just melt away until there's nothing left.
sometimes, he thinks he may just one day let him.
but not today. he has other rather more fun activities in mind, eye narrowing in sharp amusement as he tosses his braid behind him, hips swaying just enough to hear the rustle of fabric and the jangle of jewelry with each step he takes towards the bed.]
Would it soothe your ire to know that you're the only one getting a private show? You better be grateful.
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It's nothing new, [ he retorts, disturbed as a smoldering bonfire is. disgruntled, to be risen from the place he's burrowed himself against. the hand that parts them is rude, but he obeys it. he sniffs. ] You take from my cellars whenever it pleases you.
[ tit-for-tat. he sees the wound in his defense and leaves it to bleed against the separation, reluctant as diluc is to be parted from the grey shadows that lap at the boundary of his skin. that feeling rides in the cut of his shoulders, in the downward curve of his mouth, but his eyes - they follow kaeya as an ember follows kindling. they burn a searching line from the familiar round of kaeya's hips up to the bright catch of amusement that banks itself against the lone star of his eye, in the parting of his lips.
comprehension of what kaeya tells him comes against the impulse to know what it is to wrap the dark of his thick braid about his closed fist. it comes, too, against the want so deep it aches in his teeth: what would it be to pull? to harness?
the weight of it settles him against the bed, body permissive as much as his mouth and mind put up resistance.
it's a game. play the game.
be good. ]
Maybe, [ diluc ekes out. at least, that would be his perception. instead, the pause of it is weighted like a sword in the hand - a bundle of fresh calla lilies, dredged from vernal shores. for all that he is dressed in modest nightclothes, he knows better than to think it hides him the quick of kaeya's insight anymore.
how quick he's always been, to be flayed against kaeya's whims. even now, his hands rest against the rumpled sheets. he lifts his chin.
and still, as always and ever, he worries the inside of his own mouth. ]