Chapter Text
Rain fell hard on the cobbled streets of Mondstat, water washing down the steps of the city, out towards the city gates and the lake.
The wind pulled branches from trees and ripped awnings from buildings. It whipped the rain into an angry, violent beast.
Most townsfolk found themselves huddled in their homes, perhaps with a mug of a warm drink and a good book.
Not Diluc.
Churned mud mixed with blood and rain under the great oak at Windrise. Fire flashed from Diluc's claymore before being promptly put out by the rain.
Childe laughed, loud and ugly and ingenuine. "Having trouble?"
"Not as much trouble as you with that fuckin' bow." Diluc shouted
"You're cute when you're pissed!"
"You're cute when you shut up."
“Oh, baby, we both know I never do that.”
“Maybe I'd like you more if you did.”
Diluc swung his claymore, catching Childe off guard and hitting him in the side. Childe staggered backward, keeling over and nearly slipping in the mud.
“Fuck Red, that was hotter than it should've been.”
Diluc opted to stay silent and punched Childe in the jaw.
Childe reeled back, spitting on the ground and grinning, blood in his teeth. He spread his arms and dropped his bow. “How about we call it a draw?”
“How about you leave Mondstat?” Diluc's face remained expressionless. He stood still, holding his extinguished sword in front of himself.
Childe could never quite tell what Diluc wanted from him.
One moment the man would be thrilled to fuck his guts out. The very next, he'd be screaming at Childe to leave him alone and never speak to him again.
Childe shook his head. "You'd better make up your damn mind soon Diluc. You'll drive yourself insane like this."
"Like this? Like what, Tartaglia. What the hell do you think this is."
Childe doesn't have a good answer for that.
He doesn't try to give one.
Diluc stalked closer, discarding his sword and drawing a knife to put to Childe's throat.
He leaned in, staring into Childe's empty blue eyes. "You know what I think this is Tartaglia?"
Childe stayed quiet.
"I think you're fucking infatuated with me. I think you're obsessed and delusional."
"Then why the hell can't you get enough of me?"
Diluc glared, storming off without saying another word.
Night came and went. The sun rose over the cloudy horizon. The rain slowed to a drizzle.
Childe found himself back in his room in the Grand Goth Hotel.
He always found the place pretentious. All blank white walls and expensive art and gold dishes. He really never liked any of it much at all.
Childe sat on the bed. Sat in the room that felt like a shell of a place.
Childe had only been into Diluc's house once. He remembered stepping into the space and feeling the same way he did now. He'd decided he didn't like it much.
Childe felt that homes were reflections of people, places that people had put a piece of their heart and soul into.
The winery felt, to Childe, like a home without a soul.
He stared at the drab walls, the near-empty closet, the desk overflowing with Fatui correspondence and other letters.
Another home without a soul.
He leaned back onto the bed, not caring if he got the sheets wet. He felt his clothes rub against cuts that Diluc had left during their fight.
Blood mixed with water and dirt on his skin.
On his clothes.
On the sheets.
Diluc pushing his head into the sheets.
Diluc with his hands around his neck.
Diluc trailing down his naval with a dagger.
Childe decided it was time for a cold shower.
Or maybe it could be, after he finished with something else.
Childe threw his arm over his face and slipped his other, still gloved, hand under his waistband.
Slender fingers found his clit, slowly circling. The thin fabric of his glove was quickly soaked through, creating extra friction.
Childe let out a shaky breath, a quiet 'fuck'. He removed his hand to quickly shuck off one glove, but left the other on.
He gently worked his index finger inside himself, then quickly added his middle finger. He moved his still-gloved hand down to circle his clit, spreading slick from his hole upwards and teasing himself.
Childe couldn't help but wonder what Diluc's hands would feel like instead.
He began to slide his own two fingers in and out of himself, curling and dragging them against all the right places.
Diluc always wore thick work gloves. Childe had never seen him without them.
Childe's own gloved hand continued to rub his clit, getting more aggressive as he got closer to releasing.
Childe just knew that Diluc's hands were probably calloused and rough. Maybe scarred.
His fingers would be shorter than Childe's own, but thicker, rougher.
Soft moans escaped his mouth, hands continuing their work.
His back arched just slightly off the bed, thinking about Diluc getting him off.
He felt himself throb, hard, against his own fingers. He panted and moaned, moaning Diluc's name once or twice as well.
Childe finished, wet against his own hands. He pulled his hands from his pants.
He felt himself stick to his boxers, wet and hot, still throbbing.
He groaned, wiping his hands against his pants.
He stood and shuffled towards the bathroom, out of breath and far too clothed for his own liking.
Diluc stood absently behind the bar in The Angels Share. It was currently empty, quiet. He was enjoying it.
He found that his patience was running thinner than usual lately.
Maybe it was the presence of that damned harbinger in town.
Or maybe it was the fact that Diluc liked the harbinger more than he rightly should've.
Something about his fake smiles. Something about his obnoxious jokes and teases.
Diluc shook his head, hoping to shake a certain ginger from his brain while he was at it.
Kaeya shoved his way through the door of The Angels Share.
Diluc definitely didn't have enough patience for this.
"Hello, dearest brother!" Kaeya's smooth voice reached Diluc's ears.
Someone may as well have dragged a cheese grater against Diluc's brain.
"Care to sell me a drink?"
"No. Leave."
Kaeya sat at the bar anyways. "Always so mean." He pouted. "I'll take a glass of dandelion wine."
“Will you leave me alone if I get you a drink?.”
“If I say yes will you get me a drink?”
Diluc sighed, frustrated and exhausted. He poured Kaeya a glass of wine.
"You know, I'm shocked you haven't killed that harbinger yet." Kaeya grabbed the wine, mumbling into the glass. "Out of character. Almost like there's a reason you won't kill him."
Diluc glared across the counter. "You can blame the knights and their insistence upon diplomacy for that."
Kaeya scoffed. "When was the last time you listened to the knights? Ten years ago? Eleven maybe?" He smirked, finishing the glass. "Must be some damn good sex if you're laying down your decade-old grudge for him."
Diluc's eyes snapped up, glaring at Kaeya. "Get out."
"Yikes! Touch a nerve, did I?"
Diluc pointed towards the door. "You had your drink. See yourself out."
Kaeya made no move to leave.
The door swung open. A shock of ginger hair, bright blue eyes, and a cocky smirk.
Tartaglia.
“Hey Firefly! Mind serving me?”
“Bar is closed. Please see yourself out.”
Childe settles himself at the bar, propping his head up on his hands. “You know, if you wanted to say ‘get the fuck out of my bar’ you could’ve.”
“Ok. Get the fuck out of my bar.”
"Come now, dear brother, that's no way to treat a guest. I thought you were big on diplomacy now!" Kaeya grinned across the bar.
Diluc felt like he was going to explode. “Maybe I’ll just drag you both out.”
Childe pouted at Diluc. "What if I just want a drink, Firefly?"
"What if I stabbed you through the chest." Diluc drew his claymore and leaned it against the counter.
Childe sighed. "Point taken. Hey, I'll see you tonight though." He winked at Diluc, then climbed over the counter and made his way out of the back door.
"Tonight?" Diluc echoed, confused.
Kaeya snorted. "What was all that about having no-" he cut himself off, snickering. "Ulterior motives. In your relationship with the harbinger?"
"Get the fuck out."
"Alright, alright, I understand, my brother's got a dick appointment he can't miss."
Kaeya stood and made his way to the front door of The Angels Share.
Diluc had never felt more exhausted.