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It’s curiously quiet when Diluc gets back to the winery even though he knows Childe wanted to be there. It wouldn’t be unusual for his plans to change on short notice but Diluc stills calls out to him. There’s no answer at first until a noise comes from the direction of the kitchen and he drifts down that hallway.
“Are you here?” he calls out again. Normally he’d expect it to be staff but he’d met Adelinde in town, running errands, and none of the others should be in.
There’s another thump, followed by a heartbeat of silence before he hears Childe’s voice. “Kitchen!”
He likes to cook, sometimes, meals he misses from home and can’t find here. That’s what Diluc expects when he pushes open the door. Instead, Childe is sitting on the counter, face flushed like he rushed to fake nonchalance. Diluc stops short at what he’s wearing, a white ruffled dress like the maids do, a little bit shorter but with the same apron tied around the waist. He’s lacking the matching shoes, a pair of black stockings going up to just above his knees, a sliver of skin peeling through from under the hem of the dress. The little black corset ends under his bust, nothing there for it to support like it’s supposed to.
Childe flutters his eyelashes. “Welcome home, Master Diluc.”
It doesn’t get him a response at first, just eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “What are you wearing?”
“Moco and Hillie helped me.” He kicks his legs a little and leans forward, hands braced on the countertop on either side of him. “Do you like it?”
Diluc slowly takes a step forward and closes the door behind him before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Your intentions…”
Tilting his head to the side, Childe spreads his knees apart just a bit, the dress falling to reveal more of his legs. “I think my intentions are quite clear.”
With a sigh Diluc closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he looks conflicted. “Childe,” he starts slowly. “You’re dressed like my employees. That doesn’t really…get me going.”
Even though he does a good job of hiding it, the corners of Childe’s mouth fall just a bit. “Oh.” He tugs at the white ruffles, pulling them down to cover his knees again. “But Moco and Hillie said it’s okay.”
Diluc chews on his lip and leans against the small table in the middle of the kitchen. “It’s just not really my thing.”
At Childe’s disappointed look he walks over, taking his hands and intertwining them with his own. “I’m sorry. But we can do something else, if you’d like.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Childe says, the emotions on his face plastered over quickly with an easy, hollow smile that Diluc can’t stand to see. “Of course it’s weird. I should’ve thought about that.”
Diluc can’t quite think of what to say, how to make up for it, even knowing that neither of them is at fault. “We can do whatever else you had in mind, let’s just go upstairs and you can get changed?”
Childe nods easily, sliding off the counter without letting go of Diluc’s hands. He keeps holding one of them even as he trails after the other man, out into the hallway towards the stairs. There’s a tug when he stops and Diluc looks back curiously. By the front entrance hangs a large mirror, suitable for one last check before heading out, and Childe has caught his reflection, staring intently. Diluc doesn’t pull him along, instead stepping closer to see. The hand not holding onto his is clenched into the fabric of the skirt and Childe’s stare looks far away.
“What if I like it,” he finally asks, not meeting Diluc’s eyes.
Ah. Diluc’s thumb rubs small circles into the back of Childe’s hand and he leans his head against the other’s shoulder. “It looks good on you,” he says. “Hey, can you look at me? It’s not because it doesn’t look good on you.”
It's unusual to see him so reluctant when he’s usually so brash, unashamed of things everyone around him balks at. He takes a moment before he turns his head to look at Diluc directly instead of through the mirror. “But it’s weird.”
Diluc shakes his head immediately and let’s go of the other’s hand, only to wrap it around his waist in a half hug. “It’s not weird. It’s really not weird.” He exhales, trying to think of what to say. “I just don’t want to think about my maids when I’m having sex. But you don’t have to change right now if you don’t want to, just…”
The corner of Childe’s mouth twitches upwards ever so slightly. “You just won’t fuck me then?”
Diluc can’t suppress his defeated sigh. “Yes. That.”
Childe still stays rooted to the spot, eyes wandering back to the mirror to look at himself, tugging at the dress and swishing the skirt back and forth a bit.
“Oh.” The idea strikes in Diluc’s head like a match. “Do you want to try a different one?”
With a second of rapid blinking, Childe tears himself away from his reflection. “A different one?”
“Yea.” Diluc nods, smoothing his hands over the corset at Childe’s side. “A different dress I mean.”
When he changed his wardrobe he thought about throwing them out, giving them away at least, but something had stopped him. Something had made him keep at least his favorites, stored away with trinkets from his childhood.
“They might be a bit baggy on you, but I still have some you can try.”
Childe’s lips form a little o as he thinks about it. “I- If you’d like to?”
It’s phrased as a question but the way his hands fidget with the hem of the apron betrays him. Diluc tugs him along, leaving behind the mirror in favor of the storage room at the end of the hallway. It’s not dusty, Adelinde makes sure of that, and he gestures for Childe to stand by while he roots through one of the wooden storage chests. There are more left than he remembered but he’s searching for a specific one. He makes a triumphant sound when he finds it, pulling out the bundle of burgundy fabric. It’s well worn linen, one of his favorites back then, with lacing in the front. Thinking back on it, the way the lacing allowed him to flatten his chest at least a bit probably played a part in it being his favorite. He grabs a blouse with it, one he’s surprised to still find here. It’s older than the dress and he doubts it would still fit him at all but on Childe’s slender frame it might sit as intended. With everything gathered up in his arms he turns back around to find Childe standing by the door, looking strangely out of place. He usually always fits in, charming and outgoing so seeing him this quiet is a foreign sight.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, I’ll help you put it on.”
Not that there’s much to help with, he chose something simple on purpose, but he feels like Childe needs the reassurance. He needs both hands to hold everything without it dragging on the floor and he debates it with himself in his head for a second before he juts out his elbow to offer his upper arm to Childe instead. The ginger looks perplexed, blinking in confusion before he understands what Diluc is getting at. The tips of his ears go red but still he loops his arm around Diluc’s and follows him.
The clothes have been in storage for years so Diluc doesn’t worry about them wrinkling even more than they already are when he drops them on the bed unceremoniously.
“We’ll have to get you out of that first,” he says when he turns to Childe. “Is that okay?”
Childe nods and reaches back to fumble with the ribbon of the apron but Diluc strides over quickly.
“May I?” he asks, hands hovering at Childe’s sides.
Again, Childe nods and Diluc quickly unties the apron and moves on to the buttons at the front. The dress falls away quickly, leaving the ginger in nothing but his underwear and stockings, looking lost. Diluc cups a hand around his cheek, turning his face to catch his eye.
“Are you okay?”
Childe manages a weak grin. “Sure. Always delighted when you can’t wait to get me out of my clothes.”
“I’m not.” He says it immediately, without thinking before he catches himself. “I mean, I’m not just trying to get you out of your clothes. If you liked them I really do want you to try this.”
Childe looks like he has some witty remark on the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t say anything, instead just biting his lower lip. “Okay.”
Diluc gets him into the blouse first, a white one with short puffy sleeves, close to the look of maid dress Childe liked. There’s some extra room in the chest area of course but it fits, sitting just the right level of snug against Childe’s hips.
“Good,” Diluc says as he buttons it up and tugs it in place. “It looks good.”
It’s barely noticeable but he still catches the ghost of a genuine smile on Childe’s face.
“Put out your arms,” Diluc instructs as he gathers up the dress to pull over Childe’s head. The fabric settles heavily around him, still open at the front and Diluc tightens the lacing. The gap closes all the way and Diluc remembers in contrast how much of the blouse underneath used to be visible when he wore that dress.
“All done,” he says as he steps away. “Do you want to see?”
The only mirror in this room is on the inside of his closet door. He opens it wide to let Childe look at himself. The dress is longer, falling to just below his knees.
“Oh,” Childe says as he stares at himself in the mirror. He turns left and right a bit, the dress swishing around him.
“Do you like it?”
Childe swallows, the bob of his throat visible, before he replies. “I do.”
“Good.”
“There’s…,” Childe breaks off and clears his throat. “Moco gave me something else. But I didn’t put it on.”
Curiosity sneaks onto Diluc’s face, his eyebrows raised. “Do you want to show me?”
Childe has to pull away for that, striding over to the discarded maid dress to root around in the pile of fabric. Diluc didn’t know they had pockets but Childe pulls a small metal tube out of one of them and holds it up to the light. Lipstick. Turning back to Diluc he takes off the cap to show him the dark red color.
“Do you want to try it now?”
Childe shrugs. “I don’t know, I’d just make a mess with it.”
Makeup was never Diluc’s strong suit but this is manageable. “Come here, I’ll put it on for you.”
He has to pull down the other a bit to put it on, careful not to smudge the lipstick. When he pulls away he frowns a bit and Childe’s face falls in disappointment. “It’s bad, isn’t it.”
“It’s not!” Diluc put his hands on either side of Childe’s face, maybe with a bit too much force, squeezing his cheeks. “It’s not bad. But red lipstick is quite a lot, it would be more balanced with more makeup, some eyeliner maybe. You could put on a bit of eyeshadow, you know, just to really bring out the blue” and a bit of blush here to-” A bit embarrassed, he catches himself in his rambling, clears his throat and eases up his grip on Childe’s face. “I mean, if that’s what you want. You look good just like this.”
“Oh.” Childe still looks unsure and it makes Diluc’s chest ache. He never sees this look; Childe rarely gets upset and even less so without any anger. “Maybe next time?”
“Sure.” He tries for his best reassuring smile. A moment of silence passes between them, the uncomfortable need to say something but not knowing what settling into Diluc’s chest. “So,” he starts again, “What did you want to…do?”
Childe scrunches up his nose and stares straight at Diluc, his eyes blank. “You know what I wanted to do. But it’s weird if I just put this on for sex.”
He says it like it’s a fact, as if he didn’t put on the maid dress exactly for that before, and Diluc doesn’t think before he replies.
“It’s not weird.” He frowns and has half a mind to stop and gather his thoughts more but he continues on, driven by the need to get it out there. “I don’t care. It’s not weird if you just want to wear it for sex, you’ve seen me wear lingerie just because it’s hot, haven’t you? I’m not-” He pauses and notices that he’s gripping Childe’s shoulders tightly. With a deep breath he eases up but doesn’t let go and Childe makes no move to pull away, leaning into him instead. “And it’s not weird if you just like it either. I can’t tell you what that means for you, I can’t only tell you that it’s okay, whatever it is.”
It's a strange conversation to have. Diluc never really had to talk about it, about clothes or identities. Or, he thinks, maybe it’s less that he didn’t have to talk about it and more that he refused to, refused to discuss this on top of every other burden and expectation he had to shoulder. Maybe that’s what makes this feel strange. Knowing everything Childe has done, the convictions he holds and vows to keep, the ruthlessness with which he tackles every obstacle in his way. The blood they both have on their hands and just how little regret goes with it. That despite everything there are still things they both need reassurance for.
“I can’t tell you what it means for you. You know what it means for me, but I’m not a man because I don’t like to wear dresses anymore. So, you can be one if do like to wear them.” Diluc dully notes that he’s starting to ramble again, making less and less sense but still he hopes Childe will pick out what he means. “But you don’t have to be, you can be anyone you want and it's not strange in any case. Just…tell me if you know?”
Childe blinks at, eyes wide and stare blank before he nods, slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. I mean, I think I…I just like it? I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to,” Diluc repeats himself hurriedly. “You don’t have to know now or tell me now if you just started thinking about it. But don’t say it’s weird, it’s really not.”
He doesn’t want to add that if Childe was weird for this then what would that say about Diluc in return but from the quirk of Childe’s eyebrows he thinks the other gets it.
“And in any case,” he says and runs his hands over Childe’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. “You look good like this.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Childe’s mouth, wrinkling the skin around his eyes.
“But it’s this a bit strange to you too?” He gestures down at himself but his tone is lighter, more curious than before. “This was your dress, wasn’t it?”
Diluc chews his lip and thinks. “It’s not strange for me. I think…somehow it’s the opposite. I’m glad you’re happy about it when I couldn’t be.”
Understanding dawns on Childe’s face and he nods slowly.
An idea sparks in Diluc’s mind and he immediately feels heat rising to his cheeks but the rational part of him isn’t string enough to stop him from saying it.
“Do you want to know one of the perks of wearing dresses?” he asks and leans in a bit.
“What do you- Oh.” Childe catches on quickly, unsurprisingly.
“Only if you want to.”
Childe laughs. “As if I’d say no.”
Diluc’s hands slide lower along Childe’s arms but he still gives the ginger a stern look. “You can. Say no, I mean.”
“Well, I’m not saying no, firefly.”
There it is, the hint of self-assured teasing Diluc had been missing. Hiding the fondness tugging at his chest he rolls his eyes but at the same time presses closer to Childe. He gently pushes him backwards until he hits the bed, half falling down onto the mattress in a flurry of fabric. Diluc follows, one knee between Childe’s thighs as he leans in close to kiss him. His hands roam lower, settling on the other’s waist as he slots their lips together, licking into Childe’s mouth insistently. The ginger braces himself against the bed and sighs into the kiss. Diluc takes a moment to battle with himself. He wants to keep going until Childe is breathless but more than that he wants to see the ginger’s face. He pulls back just a bit, just enough to see the shadows his long lashes throw over freckled cheekbones and the way his lipstick is smudged now, bleeding out at the corners of his lips. Childe’s eyes flutter open, looking up almost demanding as he arches his back into Diluc’s touch.
“Didn’t you want to show me something?” he asks, the white of his teeth glinting sharply as he grins.
Diluc rewards him by letting his hand wander lower, reaching for the hem of the dress and hiking it up to Childe’s thigh. He slips underneath, fingertips ghosting over bare skin and he feels Childe’s shudder under him. He doesn’t take his time to tease, something to save for another day, and instead slides his fingers underneath band of the other’s underwear. Childe’s cock is still soft but he feels it stiffen in his hand as he runs it along the shaft. He barely skims it, the movement gentle and careful without lube to ease the glide but still he hears the way Childe’s breath hitches in his throat. Diluc presses against the slit, gathering the drop of precum to spread it across the head.
“See,” he whispers against Childe’s lips. “Easy access.”
It startles a laugh out of the ginger. “Who are you calling easy?”
Diluc grins back. “Didn’t say that, but if the shoe fits who am I to argue.”
Childe doesn’t bite back at it, just leans in for a kiss again as Diluc’s strokes along his cock get just a bit faster. He revels in the way Childe moans into the kiss, jerky thrusts of his hips urging Diluc on. Childe whines in protest when Diluc separates them, just enough to be able to speak.
“But you wouldn’t want to dirty something so nice, would you?”
The look on Childe’s face is questioning until Diluc pulls away further, sliding to his knees before the bed and lifting the skirt. Diluc sees the expression change to realization before he ducks under the fabric and nudges Childe’s knees apart a bit further. He doesn’t need to urge more than that, instead Childe crosses his legs behind Diluc’s back, pulling him in further, insistently.
Diluc run the flat of his tongue up the underside of Childe’s cock and then strokes it again, his spit easing the friction. He wishes he could see the ginger’s reaction but the twitch of his cock is enough to make him keep going. Still stroking the shaft, Diluc wraps his lips around the head, the salty taste of precome on his tongue. Faintly he hears Childe’s moans as he slides down, taking his cock further into his mouth. He savors the warm and heavy weight against his tongue, dragging the tip of it along the vein on the underside as he pulls back slowly. Listening for Childe’s hitched little breaths he sets a rhythm, his fingers filling the space every time he draws back his head. Diluc only tries to take it as far as he can once, the head of Childe’s cock bumping the back of his throat. He chokes around it as much as he wills himself to relax but he’s rewarded with a needy whine and a desperate twitch of Childe’s hips. The ginger tries to chase the friction around his cock as Diluc pulls back and he presses his free hand against his hipbone, keeping him down firmly against the mattress.
It really doesn’t take much more, Childe letting himself sink into pleasure without holding back. The drag of Diluc’s calloused fingertips and plush lips against his cock, gentle but firm in the right way, gets him to the edge quickly.
“I’m gonna come,” he warns, voice breathy, but Diluc stays where he is, mouth halfway down Childe’s cock.
He’s allowed a shallow thrust into the velvety warmth, barely even bordering on rough. Heat started pooling in the pit of Diluc’s stomach, his underwear feels sticky and he tries not squirm, focused on Childe’s pleasure. He ships where he’s kneeling, the seam of his pants brushing against his clit and he moans, choked off. The vibration around his cock is the final push and he spills down Diluc’s throat. The redhead takes it, not letting a drop stain the fabric of his old dress. He waits for Childe to ride out his orgasm, savors every twitch of the cock in his mouth, before he finally pulls off. Before he draws away entirely he leans his cheek against the soft inside of Childe’s thigh. He presses a kiss there, skin impossibly smooth, and finally reemerges from under the skirt.
Childe’s flushed freckled face is a treat, panting ever so slightly and relaxed in bliss. He makes a keening noise when he sees Diluc and doesn’t hesitate to draw him in for a kiss, tasting himself on the other’s lips.
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
“It’s my pleasure,” Diluc replies.
“You didn’t even get off,” Childe says in what can only be described as a whine. “Let me?”
Diluc’s mouth opens to protest on instinct before he bites it back down. “Okay,” he says instead and nips at Childe’s lower lip.
He’s straddling the ginger’s lap, rutting against his thigh in barely suppressed desperation. Childe’s hand sneaks down between their bodies, quickly undoing the button of his pants to slip inside. Diluc gasps at the first touch against his clit, swollen and sensitive. He has to break their kiss, face instead burrowed into the crook of Childe’s neck as a thumb circles the head of his clit, two fingers sliding past it between his wet folds.
“Not inside,” he pants as Childe circles the rim of his hole. “Just- This is enough today.”
Childe complies, only pressing against the space between his folds, his fingers rubbing against Diluc’s clit on either side. The redhead grinds down against them, angling his hips for the right kind of friction he’s searching.
“Stay like this,” he gasps. “Just keep them like this, I’ll-”
He cuts off with a huff but Childe gets the message. He keeps his hand steady as Diluc bucks against it, chasing his own pleasure.
“Right there.” Diluc’s voice is choked off, his arms trembling where they’re slung around Childe’s shoulders. Just a little bit the ginger presses back against Diluc’s thrusts and rubs his fingertips in gentle circles.
Diluc goes still as he comes. He doesn’t make a sound but Childe feels the tremble of his thighs and the desperate twitch if his clit before Diluc sinks against him, weight heavy against his chest.
They both breathe into the silence for a moment, content in each other’s company, before Childe pulls away his hand. He makes eye contact with Diluc and grins deliberately as his tongue darts out to lick his glistening fingers. Diluc scrunches up his nose and Childe laughs.
“Don’t be like that, you swallowed all my come.”
Without a retort ready, Diluc looks away instead, shaking his head slightly. “I guess.”
He can’t stand looking away for too long, especially not when Childe is still smiling, finally smiling again. He doesn’t even mind their tastes mixing between them when he presses their lips together again.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks into the kiss before Childe steals his breath again.
He hums an affirmative. “I am. Thank you.”
“Good,” Diluc says and pushes Childe backwards until they’re lying down on the mattress. “Stay here for a while?”
They both know he doesn’t just mean the bed, doesn’t just mean their bodies tangled between skirts and sheets but something more.
“I will,” Childe whispers, his roaming along Diluc’s sides gently. “Thank you. For letting me stay.”
And they both know he doesn’t just mean this room at the winery.