Work Text:
A STUDY ON GRAVITY
by queenemone, for ryuusea_
#
Part I: Push & Pull
Gravity (force)
/ˈɡravɪti/
noun
PHYSICS
the force that attracts a body towards the center of the earth, or towards any other physical body having mass.
There was no shortage of idols in the entertainment industry. Ever since the soloist Venti launched the trend in Mondstadt, fifteen years ago, every nation in Teyvat had spawned their own labels of talents allying dance, music, visuals, and scandals for everyone’s Twitter feed, giving fans a run for their money and paparazzi a challenge to catch freshly hatched gossips.
So why — and Diluc looped this question back and forth in his mind while rereading his manager’s text — why did his new collab have to be with him?
Why?
Was there really no other option? No other blue-haired counterpart to pair him up with for the whole red/blue aesthetic so in vogue at the moment? No one to match Diluc’s style both in quality and nature?
No one, except Kaeya Alberich?
“This has to be a joke,” Diluc mumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes at the phone. “Or a typo. Or… Or, a really mean prank.”
Adelinde, his manager, raised curious eyes from her seat on the bench. They were in the gym, because on top of being his manager, his godmother, and probably very soon his stepmother — if Diluc’s father ever managed to psych himself up for The Question — Adelinde was also Diluc’s personal trainer. There was nothing she couldn’t do — except resting.
“Oh, you got my text?” she asked, handing him a towel.
Diluc took it without answering. He was still deciphering the text, trying to read between the lines for any surreptitious meaning or hidden watermarked letter that would transform Kaeya’s name to not-Kaeya’s-name. “You got me a collab with… Kaeya,” he said, accusatory.
“I did. You’re welcome, about that. You have no idea how busy he is.”
“Busy?” Diluc repeated, holding back a scoff. He wasn’t sure why his mind was reeling. What was worse? Being matched with his ex-boyfriend-he-had-totally-(not)-gotten-over? Or imagining him collaborating with other people?
“Everyone wants to work with the rising star. Have you seen his last performance? He broke the Internet.”
Of course Diluc had seen it. “I haven’t, actually. Why would I?”
Adelinde bit her lips, as if hiding a smile. “Well, I sent you a few of his MVs to get a feel for his style. I encourage you to watch them. Trust me, I wouldn’t push for this so much if I didn’t believe it would benefit you; I only want the best for you.”
That was true. Adelinde had been Diluc’s manager ever since his debut — through all of his blunders, his approximative performances, and his many uncertainties. Dawn Production was a product of love and passion — his father’s — but it wasn’t one of the big four; everyone was family here, and Adelinde especially had seen him grow up.
Literally. He was ten years old when she joined the production. Nobody questioned it when she stepped up as his manager, after Diluc graduated from Favonius High — a school for talents. It was natural as breathing, and Diluc had quite welcomed the change from his previous manager who’d tried to cut him into a circle when he was all angles and sharp tongue.
If there was someone in this world who cared about Diluc’s wellbeing more than the numbers he generated, it was Adelinde.
But also, if there was someone out there who knew just what Kaeya meant to Diluc — and how much he resented him — it was also Adelinde.
She had been there to console him when he and Kaeya broke up. She had listened to his babbled ramblings — those that scorched and those soaked in unshed tears — and she had given him precious advice to move on, rebuild on top on the ruins — because Diluc hadn’t just lost a lover that day; most importantly, he had lost a friend, his best friend.
So why?
Why?
Diluc leaned back on the bench. He pulled on the towel thrown around his shoulders, scoffing, but there was no winning with Adelinde. And no lying. And no pretending.
She could read him like in a music score.
“It will be good for you,” she promised. “Trust me?”
Diluc sighed.
“Oh Diluc, my Diluc. It’s okay to cry, you know. You don’t have to hide your tears from me,” Adelinde said, wiping his cheeks with the back of her hands. Diluc had never met his mother, but he assumed Ade was the closest thing he had to one. “You’ll be okay. Trust me?”
He nodded, accepting her hug — or rather, clinging to her as though she were a buoy. His heart was so heavy. He couldn’t carry it all alone.
Minutes later, long after her gentle daisy perfume replaced the salt of his sorrows, Diluc let go and nodded.
And, he said —
“Okay.”
Adelinde smiled. “You won’t regret it.”
There was some thrill in the forbidden.
Lying on the bed next to Kaeya when Diluc knew neither of them should. Kissing his brow while Kaeya slowly rocked into him, a sight to feed a whole world of scandals for the years to come. Threading his fingers in midnight blue hair and clasping his thighs around hips he loved to grab and bruise and caress and, deeply lost in his climax, forgetting how fast their budding careers would crash if any of their whimpers were ever heard.
“Kae, Kae,” Diluc called, and Kaeya preened, kissing his neck while spilling into him with a shuddering sigh.
It tasted bittersweet — the danger of a love to shatter both of their lives, simple as it was. When they were together, so lost in their own pleasure it obscured scandals and gossips alike, the forbidden was mere fuel to this growing pull between them.
But then, they came down from their high, and the sweet had since long melted, leaving only bitter in its wake.
Diluc sighed, pulling the blankets to him as he nuzzled into Kaeya’s embrace. They were eighteen, in love, with promising careers. The fact these three things couldn’t coexist because their single status was marketable drove him off the wall. He and Kaeya had known each other since middle school — they were best friends. People wrote freaking fanfictions about them when they appeared in public together — when they stood next to each other and vaguely crossed each other’s gaze — but god forbid they actually became a thing. He was just a trinket to covet and collect, a generic pretty face to dream about and project on — and with.
“All good?” Kaeya asked, combing slender fingers through Diluc’s red hair. It used to be curly, but he’d had to straighten it after an onslaught of comments calling him ‘unkempt’. Gods, he couldn’t wait to graduate from Favonius High. Only a few months to go and he’d give up his current manager to work with Adelinde, in his father’s studio. With Kaeya, and his unruly curls. The way things were supposed to be. “You look pensive.”
Diluc pouted. He scooted closer, resting his chin in his favorite place in the world — between Kaeya’s boobs. He pressed a kiss there, near a nipple he’d personally bullied two days ago. With his teeth. “I want to hold your hand in public,” he replied, calmly. “And I can’t, because people care more about what’s in my bed than my discography.”
“I’ve seen what you hide in your bed. I can’t blame them.”
Diluc chuckled. “Shush, you.”
Kaeya smiled, silent after his joke. They’d had this conversation so many times, it wasn’t like he could conjure new answers anyway. There were only so many flavors of ‘we can’t, because people suck’ to come up with.
But this time, Kaeya didn’t try to pacify, negotiate, or bargain. Instead, he said: “We could just say fuck-it-all and make it public. We’d both lose our job opportunities, but… maybe we could rebuild?”
Diluc sucked in a breath. He propped himself up on his elbows, ruby eyes darting to Kaeya’s. They were so pretty — one blue and one gold — it was no wonder their school didn’t need to put him in a group. Even as a trainee, Kaeya was the visual, the singing, and the dancing at once. “For real?” Diluc asked, fingertips tentatively brushing Kaeya’s cheekbones. “You mean that?”
“Sure.” He briefly closed his eyes, then reopened them with a frown. “I’ve been trying to come up with a solution for a while. It’s blurry still, and it’d likely be hell for the both of us, but— I don’t know. I want to be with you.” He held Diluc’s hand to his chest. The serious edge in his gaze softened — as it often did whenever he stared too long at Diluc.
“I want to be with you too,” Diluc murmured. “In private and in public — everywhere. If you’re down… I mean, I—” his voice wobbled, a shuddering exhale cutting through it. He’d read some of the things people called him on social media. How every single one of his curls and freckles had been magnified, printed, analyzed, and bashed by people who had nothing better to do in their free time. Too wild, too thin, too curvy, too different, not tall enough, not manly enough, not enough.
And it was worse for Kaeya. He didn’t talk about it much, but Diluc knew it affected a part of him — the slurs, the debates about his skin color, the casually bigoted comments under his official tweets.
On the Internet, people ceased to be people. They were just pixels to bully, faceless walls for strangers to throw their worst at.
“Luc?”
Diluc flinched, blinking. “It will suck, you know. We’ll both trend on Twitter and not in the fun way.”
“I know. Does it scare you?”
“It does. It should. But it scares me less than a life without you.”
Kaeya grinned. “My, my. And I thought I was the hopeless romantic.”
“I’m being truthful. You’re… you’re my best friend, my boyfriend, my muse.”
“Your muse too?” Kaeya repeated, his voice no louder than a whisper.
Diluc cleared his throat, his cheeks burning. “Y—eah.” More coughing. “Actually, I tried my hand at songwriting lately, from scratch. Lyrics, melody, prod. I wrote it thinking of you. It’s, uh, it’s what I meant when I said you were, you were…”
“Your muse?”
“Yeah. Yeah, my muse.” He smiled, a shy tug at the corner of his lips. “Wanna listen? If you like it, it could be… our first, uh, work? At Dawn Production?”
Kaeya’s eyes lit up. “You wrote me a song,” he spelled out, still stuck on that.
“I—I did, yeah.” Diluc mustered all his motivation to stand up, rubbing his bare arms as he waddled to his backpack. It was almost November — Kaeya’s birth month — and so the weather was not kind. He took his laptop from its case, then, after slipping on a bathrobe, he sat on the bed, waiting for the device to warm up.
Kaeya shifted on the bed. They were in his apartment — the one thing of his that wasn’t public — since it was too dangerous to be out in public together, even in a hotel, and yet… Diluc couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as he opened the folder containing his personal mixtape.
There was his first song: Push & Pull. An object of pure passion, love, and frustration — the three defining themes in his life for the past few months. That was what happened, when one fell for their best friend in an industry where love was a dirty secret.
When Diluc pressed ‘play’, it was with a lump in his throat and a trembling finger. He watched in anticipation the notes and lyrics reflect into Kaeya’s eyes — years of their relationship unwinding across his features. His lips parting, the hints of smile liftingt their corners. His eyes widening then softening around the edges, gold and blue blurred with emotion.
His hand, seeking Diluc’s, squeezing it as he rested his cheek on Diluc’s thigh.
Sky and sea warp into a storm
Wind pushing, Waves pulling
But never did I taste its foam
For there you were
My anchor
“That ‘you’…” Kaeya started, the words drawling as his eyes shimmered with emotion.
“Is you,” Diluc finished. He grinned, pressing a kiss on top of Kaeya’s head. “I love you, Kae. Always have.”
At the time, Diluc thought that dazzling light in Kaeya’s eyes to be a reciprocal truth.
But when a month later, long before he even envisaged pitching his new song to his manager of the time — a pragmatic, cookie-cutter man who swore by the unspoken rules of the idol world, unlike Adelinde — Diluc heard its telltale notes swinging by the Favonius Entertainment studios. He could have recognized them among thousands — the gentle lilt of a ballad with lyrics he’d dug up from his own heart.
His confession to Kaeya.
Blasting through the Favonius Entertainment studios.
He’d tried to ask Kaeya what happened, to no avail. Kaeya wouldn’t pick up his calls, wouldn’t text him back, wouldn’t even see him when Diluc came to his apartment, clad in his biggest hoodie and sunglasses that hid half of his face.
“We’re no good together,” was the one explanation he’d given — both for their sudden breakup and the stolen song. He’d joined Favonius Entertainment despite swearing to go along with Diluc at Dawn Productions, upon graduating from Favonius High School for Talents.
And just like that, the anchor snapped, and ever since, Diluc struggled to keep his head out of the water.
Diluc thought he could have anticipated how it felt to see Kaeya again.
He’d expected anxiety, sadness, anger — and, to be fair, he got that part right, each flavor bitterer than the previous.
But what he hadn’t planned — or rather, what he’d refused to acknowledge as a possibility — was that the flare of heat in his neck would be more than just… fury.
That his heart would flutter for more than anxiety, and his breath would stutter along the snapping flames of a passion he’d thought dead.
He exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled once more.
Kaeya was just as gorgeous as the last time they’d talked. Though Diluc had seen some of his performances, the beauty in the pictures hardly compared to the real deal. He had to remind himself to breathe, losing his sense of self in the mismatched blue and gold of Kaeya’s eyes.
How strange it was, to look at his beloved face and not be able to cup it and kiss it, to watch his graceful hair draped over his shoulder and not run his fingers through them.
And that waist.
Diluc’s hands itched.
He scoffed. Looked away. Inhaled, closed his eyes, and— when he reopened them, this weak self fawning over the man who’d betrayed him was gone, buried under dregs of bitterness finally settling.
“Well, look who it is,” Kaeya said in a singsong voice. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
Diluc’s gaze did not falter. He had so much to say, none he could allow himself to utter. His chest still bubbled with conflicting emotions and it was exhausting to manage them all. “Don’t patronize me,” was his choice of answer. It was anti-climatic, to speak like a Twitter fake-deep post, but it was safe. He couldn’t let any of his past resentment — and needs, and wants, and questions and wishes and burned love letters — seep through the cracks in his dam. If he did, the whole structure might collapse and a scandal was the last thing he needed. “Besides, I’ve changed plenty.”
“Have you? You still angry-bake during weekends, and you’re still shorter than me. That’s at least half of your personality.”
“I don’t angry-ba—” He cleared his throat, shifting on his seat. They were waiting in the dance practice room for a quick briefing session with their managers. Adelinde was not keen on useless formalities, so she’d asked for them to be ready for practice as soon as possible. “Okay, how could you tell?”
“You smell like cookies,” Kaeya mused, humming. “Sweet and savory.”
Diluc shook his head. He couldn’t let the praise get to his head. Kaeya flirted like he breathed, but he didn’t mean any of it. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
“Can’t handle a little small talk?”
“You call this small talk?” Diluc mumbled. “Keep your distances, and this might go well.”
“I’ll simply mirror your behavior.”
“Figured you were good at that, yeah.”
Diluc’s jab didn’t have the intended effect. Kaeya simply smiled, eyelids drooping ever so slightly in a way Diluc wished he could still read.
He used to think he had Kaeya all figured out. The old Diluc, grown since long, would have cradled Kaeya in his arm, sensing disarray between the lines of his smile.
But now? He had no idea anymore.
“Boys!” Adelinde called as she entered the dance practice room. “You’re here!”
Kaeya’s manager followed suit. She was walking next to Adelinde, looking around the dance practice room with what better not be disdain, because there was only so much Diluc could take of an affront before losing it. It was bad enough that he had to make a collab with his ex — an ex that still, despite everything, made his heart dance — if the Favonius employees now looked down on everything Diluc’s father had built…
Breathe, Diluc.
Think of your career.
Think of—
Kaeya.
When they were younger, just two foolish teenagers latching onto the same dream, Kaeya was the ice to Diluc’s fire, the buoy to his tempests, and the peace to his overwhelming inner battles.
Well, apparently, that hadn’t changed. Except now it pissed Diluc off.
“I’m so thankful for this collab,” Adelinde started, and against all odds, Kaeya’s manager grinned at her enthusiasm. “I’ve watched all of Kaeya’s performances; I’ve been dreaming for so long to see what kind of synergy he’d have with my Diluc.”
My Diluc, huh. Diluc tamed a smile. She was so effortlessly lovely, he couldn’t stay in a bad mood for too long — or resent her for putting the object of his trust issues in the same room as him. And the same song. And the same MV. And the same Wikipedia article. Probably a few hundred fanfictions, thousands of Twitter posts, and a dozen of bad faith gossipy articles.
… Yeah.
“I’m excited too,” Kaeya’s manager said. “My name is Lisa.” She leaned in, winking at Diluc. “Big fan of yours.”
Diluc’s lips twitched. This time, he couldn’t help a smile — and he felt a little bad he’d judged her so quickly. Was he being too defensive? He was so on edge, on the lookout for attacks coming from everywhere, maybe he should loosen up a little. He had to, or else he’d wear himself out.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it,” Diluc replied, reeling in his past biases. He may be from a small family studio, he still had manners — and standards, he thought as he glanced toward Kaeya.
Kaeya fit all of Diluc’s standards — visuals, singing, dancing, personality, tits — except one.
Trust.
It was actual hell on earth to practice with Kaeya.
Not because he was a bad partner — gods, no; he was a dream to work with, could guess Diluc’s next move before Diluc himself knew, and complimented their choreography with perfectly synchronized steps.
No.
He just raised the temperature so damn high, Diluc was burning.
Especially in his lower areas.
“Break time!” Adelinde shouted, clapping in her hands. “Lisa and I will be back, we have some formalities to take care of with the director so we’re gonna head to his office for a bit. In the meantime, be nice and have a snack, okay?”
She sounded like she was talking to kindergärtners.
“Sure thing,” Kaeya replied, his voice breaking into a grunt as he stretched backwards — ugh, his ass was a sin waiting to happen. “We’re not kids anymore, right Diluc?”
Diluc’s gaze snapped upright — fighting the urge to linger on that godly cleavage. “Right.”
Lisa giggled. “Alright, be back soon.”
The two women left and… here they were, alone together once more.
Diluc sat on the resting bench, a towel around his neck. He nodded a quick thank-you at Kaeya who threw him a water bottle, avoiding the all-too-tantalizing view of his drenched shirt melding onto his chest. How easy it was to lose himself in those lean muscles and elegant curves. After all, he knew that body by heart. Could say exactly which touches got Kaeya to drop the cheeky smile, and which got him to open his legs further with pleas only for Diluc’s ears.
Diluc downed the water bottle.
“All good?” Kaeya asked, leaning back to cross his legs. “You’re pensive.”
Ha, that word again. “I get to be pensive. I have a lot to think about.”
“A lot like what?”
Diluc threw a sidelong glance toward Kaeya. “Like the fact that you’re acting so chummy after shutting me out.”
“This again?” Kaeya said with an unreadable smile. He was frustrating as hell, hiding behind courtesy Diluc wanted nothing to do with. “You hardly ever move on, do you?”
“It’s hard,” Diluc admitted, gripping his empty bottle. “You disappeared without a word after stealing my song. I still don’t know why. I thought—” I thought I knew you.
I thought you loved me.
Kaeya’s hand was so close to his. “You thought…?” He asked, and it wasn’t — couldn’t be — Diluc’s imagination that he sounded apologetic.
Diluc stood up, pointedly avoiding Kaeya — and his eyes that never missed any detail when he analyzed song lyrics, and his lips that were always pressed in a thoughtful line when he composed, and his neck that looked so damn delectable with hickeys sown under his choker, and…
Holy fuck, Diluc thought. How am in so deep?
“Let’s… stick to the choreography,” Diluc backed down. “Let’s repeat, come on. We wanna grab that golden disk — make this torture worth it.”
Kaeya shrugged, but he complied anyway.
It was easier to talk with matching moves, synchronized steps, and dramatic flourishes. Words were heavy and multi-faceted, and there was no way to say ‘I still love you’ without cutting when resentment was written in the back, poison in an ink that wouldn’t dry.
At least, when they danced, the walls crumbled. The music blasted behind them, still void of lyrics, and neither of them could afford to tiptoe around each other. They had to be in each other’s face. For the sake of these extravagant notes, for the drops in bass and the skittering melodies and the spice of a wicked game turned into a song.
Come on, let’s dance.
Diluc grabbed Kaeya’s wrists, spinning him along a dragged out note, tout shoulders steady as Kaeya grabbed them after the second twirl. Their pulses kissed when they touched, their gazes crossed when they parted, and if he closed his eyes, he could listen to the rapid footwork and controlled breathing of his partner and know exactly where he was.
He hated it. He hated how well they fit together, how easily he could read into Kaeya’s dance and slot his own around it.
He loved it.
He loved every minute of it. Threading his fingers with Kaeya’s and meeting his serious stare for a second, pushing him with the momentum he needed for his solo part, reaching out to join him and touch him and pretend it was all like before and all they wanted — all they ever wanted — was to create together. Songs, music, dances, who cared. As long as they were together.
They had so many stories to write. So many people to sing to. So many hearts to mend with music that came from their own.
Kaeya…
“Did you give up on me?”
The words sounded as pathetic as they felt.
Kaeya looked away. He leaned into the awning of the door, keeping it close to him as if to hide what was behind. Why was he so secretive? Diluc had been in his apartment so many times. They used to do their homework together on the kitchen table while Kaeya’s mom made them banana-strawberry smoothies, and they made the promise to join the same high school for talents on that balcony, under a rosy dawn after hours spent awake gaming together.
Why was he… Why was he not looking at him?
“Yeah,” Kaeya finally said, and the tear spread further in Diluc’s chest. “We’re no good together. Just go, Luc. Don’t come back here.”
“At least tell me why!” He sighed, his fists balling into the pockets of his hoodie. “My song— I wrote— it was for you… Why did I, I heard it at the Favonius studios, why—”
He was crying. The tears were heavy in his voice. They made him sound so much younger — too young to write love songs to his best friend, too young to be heartbroken, too young—
“You’re so naive,” Kaeya said with a scoff, pushing onto his hips to adjust his stance. “Thanks for the good time, though. Just leave now.”
It had to be fake.
A sick joke, a stupid prank, a fucking social experiment—
The music ended on a brutal note followed by a long silence, dust settling on the battleground. Kaeya had his hands up in surrender, as per the choreography, wrists bound by a satin tie torn from his suit. Diluc held his hands there, leaning into him for tragic effect, and though the professional part of his mind still heeded all the parameters to take into account — camera placements, lighting, fluidity of the end pose — everything else had zeroed in on Kaeya’s treacherous, beloved face.
They were so close. So close, Diluc could see the specks in Kaeya’s golden eye, and the stars in his blue one.
Kaeya let out a silent exhale. His eyelids twitched, the confident role of an escaped spy slipping as familiar bashfulness took its place.
And that, was it as a lie too? This fragility, this translucence in the mask he wore like a second skin?
“Luc,” Kaeya called, and it was both a plea and a warning. He didn’t want to be seen like this — vulnerable, caught off-guard. So much more youthful than he tried to act like.
Diluc squeezed Kaeya’s wrists. His hands trembled. So did Kaeya’s.
He could say it. He could use that instant of honesty — the mask slipping, revealing the Kaeya he used to know — to pass a message, to ask all the questions he still carried unanswered, to say the one thing that was still true, after all this time.
I still love you.
I still love you.
I still—
“That was… stunning!” Adelinde exclaimed, Lisa following suit with enthusiastic applauds.
Diluc slowly let go, taming the hummingbird in his chest. Kaeya’s pulse was printed on his skin, webbing along his own veins.
With a practiced laugh, Kaeya turned toward their managers, voicing polite gratitude that grated on Diluc’s ears.
He was back. That new Kaeya — shiny, plastic. Guarded. “I’m gonna use the restroom,” Diluc announced, hanging by the door to check Adelinde had heard him.
He didn’t look at Kaeya as he exited the dance practice room.
Part II: Back In Your Orbit
Orbit
/ˈɔːbɪt/
noun
Science, Physics
the curved path of a celestial object or spacecraft round a star, planet, or moon, especially a periodic elliptical revolution.
Two weeks had passed since Diluc started working with Kaeya, and beside ruminating his grudges, dreaming about Kaeya’s pretty smile, and burning to get his hands all over him, Diluc had not expected he would actually look forward to practice sessions with Kaeya.
If it wasn’t because, well, he was still lowkey (highkey) in love with his ex, it would be for pretty much everything else Kaeya brought to the table. He was simply a dream to work with. Dutiful, dependable, proactive. He was willing to redo adlibs and harmonies time and time again with Diluc to perfect their song, pitched in edits to the lyrics in live while they worked out how to sing them, and more often than not, he’d stay late with Diluc to practice their choreography — long after Adelinde and Lisa left.
Diluc sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. On nights like these — fall weather slowly wilting into winter — he was glad for the cold. At least he could hide behind his face mask, and in the dark of early nights, people didn’t pay much attention to the strands of curly red hair escaping his hoodie.
It wasn’t like he was the only redhead in Mondstadt, but enthusiastic fans had a knack for surprises. They could flip through a pantene color chart and point to his exact shade of red in seconds. Some had the hexadecimal value memorized — and they made it trend on Twitter the first time he appeared in public, on a scheduled event, with his natural unruly hair.
Diluc had to admit he’d felt extra good that day. Though a part of his fanbase was obsessed with micromanaging every one of his decisions — ‘um, actually, he shouldn’t stay too long in the sun or it will damage his hair, also get his hairstylist fired because they clearly haven’t heard about coconut oil’ — most of his fans were supportive of him as a person and an artist.
Art was not constant, and artists were bound to change when they tried new styles, explored new media, or challenged their own comfort zone. A lot of his peers were scared to evolve because of this unfortunate illusion of constance that many entertainment industries swore by — ever-young idols with a unified musical style and little room for extravagance or daring concepts. Constance sold, because constance was safe — where change was all danger, uncertainty, unpredictability.
Meanwhile, Diluc had gone through at least three different phases — from edgy bitch to wannabe vampire, with one or two strawberry pop moods in between — and his fanbase had remained by his side, embracing every one of his experiments. Sometimes, he found them ‘clearing the searches’ from ‘enemy fanbases’ that talked shit about his variety of styles, but to be fair, Diluc didn’t care much about that. He’d since long learned to not heed trolls and bad faith people on social media. It used to be much harder, when he was a teen hungry for validation, but now? As long as they respected his privacy, they could shit on him for all he cared. The worst types were always those that stalked him when he was out in public.
Like those exact shrieking groupies bolting after a flash of blue through the street.
Diluc sucked in a breath, his ears training to the cacophony, trying to comb through high-pitched screams and the blaring car horns for whatever the hell they were saying.
“It’s him! It’s Kaeya!”
“He went this way! Oh my god, oh my god!”
“He looked at me! I saw him, he was looking right back at me!”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Diluc started walking long before he realized it. He followed the procession of groupies as they stalked Kaeya like some organized band of wolves about to pounce on their prey.
Did he have a plan?
Duh.
Of course not.
In another situation, Diluc might have dubbed himself a peerless, outstanding hunter — slaloming through cars and passersby to keep track of the obsessed fans.
But they made so much noise, even six feet in the ground he’d still hear their cacophony.
Well, at least he could be proud of still being alive. He’d nearly gotten trampled to death as he joined the stampede, a poor decision in an attempt to get closer to Kaeya and… and what? Save him?
Diluc had no idea what he was doing. Or why.
Eventually, his bullheaded methods remaining unsuccessful, Diluc changed his approach. Instead of becoming part of the crowd, he had to intercept Kaeya wherever he was going to hide.
And that… That, Diluc knew.
“Why are you all alone out there?”
Kaeya turned around, following the sound of Diluc’s voice. Behind him, the ice rink shone with a pale halo, silver blue light kissing the edge of Kaeya’s face. “Hey,” he greeted, shifting on the spectator bench to gesture for Diluc to sit next to him. There was plenty room anyway — the rink was empty — but the gesture was more symbolic than anything else.
Diluc liked Kaeya’s symbols — and his subtle ways to make him feel welcome. Contrary to what most people thought, Kaeya did prefer being on his own, if only because few could read into his occasional vacant moments, glimpse the grey he hid under a bright blue sky, or understand the complicated embroidery of guilt and relief he wore like a second skin.
Diluc was one of those few. Diluc knew that when Kaeya tuned out of a conversation, he would keep staring at whoever was talking with a polite smile but was inwardly counting the minutes till he could be alone again. Diluc knew that Kaeya owned a secret notebook in which he’d composed dozens of songs to capture stills of the grey under the blue.
Diluc knew that Kaeya’s mother had promised him, on this same ice rink she had retired from when she became pregnant with Kaeya, that she would do everything in her power to support his dreams.
Idol school was expensive. Idol school was exhausting. Idol school was where Kaeya learned dancing, singing, smiling for the cameras, and turning off comments on his Instagram pictures when people launched into debates about his weight or his origins.
Kaeya leaned into Diluc’s embrace, letting out a long sigh. “I’m just a bit tired,” he explained, at last. In another universe, Kaeya might have rambled about everything that was on his mind.
I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of being scrutinized, of being an object of consumption, of struggling and comparing myself to every other talent and competing whether I want to or not. I’m so tired but I can’t say any of it — not when she’s out there trudging so I make it.
I want to shine.
I deserve to shine.
But in their universe, all Kaeya did was ask for Diluc to hold him.
The ice rink wasn’t quite empty when Diluc arrived, out of breath. He pushed through the doors to the lockers, then inspected the bleachers until he found the familiar silhouette.
Kaeya had pulled his hood over his hair, but Diluc knew that body by heart — even hidden under layers of cold weather clothes.
“Hey!” he called out, jogging to the seat Kaeya had taken.
Kaeya flinched, alarm tensing his body, but when he saw it was Diluc, he relaxed. “Luc?”
“Yeah…” Diluc dropped next to him, taking a deep breath. “What’s going on? Why was there a swarm of fans stalking you?”
Kaeya chuckled, but the sound came out wry and weary. He’d slid down his face mask to drink — and, quite possibly, to change it as soon as he could to update his camouflage. “I forgot my sunglasses.”
Diluc couldn’t blame him for that. The weather was abysmal, and it was already night. “Right.”
Without the autopilot that work provided, Diluc had no idea what to say to Kaeya. Silence used to be comfortable around him, but now there were so many unresolved silences between them, it just weighed too heavy. Try as he might, Diluc didn’t trust himself to say anything lest his past bitterness contaminated every word rolling off his tongue.
At least, the shriek that pierced through the silence of the ice rink provided some retrieve from this train of thought. The downside?
Well, everything else.
“Shit,” Kaeya hissed, already jumping to his feet. “They found me—”
“Is that Kaeya?” a man asked, two rows below, already brandishing his phone to snap a picture.
The question worked like a spell. All was silence, until the procession of fans hunting Kaeya started stomping up the stairs.
Diluc’s blood froze. He grabbed Kaeya’s hand, who was still staring at the groupies like a warrior assessing how many soldiers he could take on, and together, they ran.
And ran.
And ran…
And… and Diluc still had no plan. How long would they run until their pursuers caught up? He could already imagine all the TikToks they posted blowing up, incendiary hashtags trending to overanalyze Kaeya’s movements while Diluc failed to conjure up a distraction. Others might join in just for fun because was there really anything more entertaining for a cat than playing with its food?
Diluc gritted his teeth, his hand tightening over Kaeya’s.
Kaeya was not their food.
Kaeya was not theirs.
Kaeya was—
Diluc abruptly came to a stop, his hood falling down to reveal pooling red hair — and in the back of his mind, he noted down that transition for their MV because, damn, it looked ridiculously cool. “Do you trust me?” he then asked Kaeya, already bringing him closer.
“Trust… Diluc, why the hell did you stop?!”
Kaeya was—
“Just answer me,” Diluc insisted. If this was a zombie movie, they would be dead.
Kaeya groaned. “Yeah, of course I do!”
Kaeya was—
Diluc grabbed Kaeya and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Like they were, indeed, the two protagonists of a zombie movie, about to be devoured by forces neither of them could understand, and they shared the last kiss in the history of humanity.
— His.
When he broke the kiss, Diluc almost forgot they were supposed to run for their life. How could he think of anything but the perfect red blooming in Kaeya’s cheeks? He tasted so sweet, Diluc was entranced. Completely and utterly entranced.
That tenderness in Kaeya’s eyes, swimming among pure surprise… Was it real?
The flash of a camera broke the magic. Then came a wail, a marriage proposal, three dozens of snapping sounds, and probably more than a few declarations warranting for sexual misconduct charges.
“You—” Kaeya started, a groan of frustration cutting his sentence as their stalkers walked closer. In an ultimate, desperate move, Kaeya removed his hoodie and threw it toward the fans, and before Diluc could process the horror of the spectacle in front of him — fans on the edge of cannibalism walking over each other to grab the garment — he gripped Diluc’s hand and led him outside.
They ran for so long, Diluc was thankful for his stamina practice. He followed Kaeya wordlessly, latched onto his hand like a stubborn child following his mother. Eventually, they reached a building Diluc did not recognize, and Kaeya took him to the roof.
And that was how Diluc knew he was in for the verbal equivalent of an ass-beating.
“What the hell, Diluc?!”
Diluc wasn’t sure what to reply to that. If he weren’t still stunned by his own decisions — by that kiss that still tingled on his lips — he might have tried to put up a fight, but defiance wasn’t an option when Kaeya was this fierce.
Kaeya was the definition of measure. His carefree attitude was deliberate — a shield as much as a mask, necessary in a world where his existence was a commodity and his origins a filter to the public’s perception. One step out of line and he could be reduced to some one-dimensional stereotype, or have his actions blown out of proportions. Case in point: that one time Kaeya bumped into an idol from another company; the next day, ‘IDOL KAEYA ALBERICH ASSAULTS FELLOW SINGER’ made the headlines.
Hence, how rare it was to see him like this: cheeks flushed, hair just disheveled enough to remind Diluc of their nights together, eyes staring down at Diluc with an intensity to melt his resolve.
Yeah.
Kaeya was angry, and Diluc… Diluc was horny.
“I can’t believe you just…” Kaeya continued, at a loss of words. His mouth hung open, frozen mid-sentence, then he groaned and sighed and Diluc was still savoring every second of this illegally out-of-line Kaeya no one ever got to see. “You just— did that.” He huffed, working on his breathing until the composed Kaeya was back. The Kaeya who cracked jokes he’d secretly practiced but made it look like he’d improvised.
Diluc shrugged. He looked away; Kaeya’s eyes did things to him that blurred reason and common sense into unbridled affection. He had to remind himself coffee with sugar inside was still coffee. “I wasn’t thinking,” he mumbled.
“I could tell, yeah.” Kaeya sighed, annoyed. “They’re gonna eat you alive, Luc. Everything was for nothing.”
It took Diluc a moment to realize what Kaeya had said. While Kaeya checked his phone to assess the damage, Diluc rewound the words on and on, listening for that little hunch he couldn’t pinpoint.
They’re gonna eat you alive, Luc.
Everything was for nothing.
Everything.
For nothing.
“Kae,” he started, and with each passing second, he cursed himself more — and more and more — for not thinking of that sooner. “What do you mean, ‘everything’?”
Kaeya paused. Even in surprise, his movements were fluid, seamless. He pursed his lips, kept his gaze riveted on his phone as he — surely — answered the most alarming texts. Then, once he was done, he sat next to Diluc, shoulders hunched in defeat.
After a few seconds of respectful silence, Diluc went on: “Kae, tell me what really happened, all these years ago.”
Part III: Atlas
Atlas
at·las | \ ˈat-ləs \
- capitalized: a Titan forced by Zeus to carry the heavens on his shoulders
- capitalized: one who bears a heavy burden
Kaeya knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the studio. He did his routine with Diluc and the other students of Favonius High, and no one said anything to him, but… something was off. He felt expectant gazes on him, could reach and touch the pressure that wafted around him like a toxic cloud.
When the day ended and his manager gestured for him to come in his office, Kaeya’s fears were confirmed.
An ambassador for Favonius Entertainment was waiting inside the office. She seemed to know Kaeya’s manager — exchanged inside jokes and pleasantries with him — and that didn’t reassure Kaeya the slightest.
Managers were supposed to have their idol’s best interest at heart, but for the students of Favonius High, they were mostly temporary coaches until the young talents found a studio to debut with. Which didn’t mean they inflicted no damage — Diluc had never mentioned disliking his hair until his assigned manager pointed out it looked ‘unkempt’.
In Kaeya’s case, he could tell his manager had a bias toward Favonius Entertainment. Some might think it was a given, considering they were under the same branch, but Kaeya’s manager, especially, tittered the edge of legality in his fervent loyalty to Favonius. The school had already been sued for allowing disloyal competition — by favoring their own branch over other entertainment studios.
Like he did that night, in his office, with the Favonius Entertainment ambassador in his office.
“That was a glorious performance,” the woman started, polished nails tapping on the desk as she turned toward Kaeya. She was a perfect representative of the Favonius values — beauty, order, strategy. Each ornament she wore — jewels, head pieces, even the little diamonds on her nails — seemed deliberate, a brand that sold dreams and unattainable ideals wrapped in an effortless natural image.
Kaeya offered a polite smile. “Thank you. I was just rehearsing, though — plenty of things to fix.”
“There is always more to fix — even in final performances.” The tapping stopped. She rested her free hands on top of her purse, on her lap. “Anyway, you must be curious as to why I wanted to meet you.”
“I am, yes.”
“Well, first, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Genevieve, a manager for the Dandelions — you’ve heard of them, yes?”
“Who hasn’t?” he answered with a joke. The Dandelions were a duet — Jean and Eula — recruited by Favonius Entertainment a year ago, fresh out of their eponymous school. They topped most of the charts every time they released new songs. “They’re a breath of fresh air.”
“I’m glad you think so!” She chuckled. “I could talk about them for hours, but I’m not here for that.” She placed a card on the table — her business card. “I want to recruit you for Favonius Entertainment. You have the charisma and talent to shine on your own, and we have several concepts that could fit your style. I’ll walk you through all the benefits you’d have as a Favonius artist. How does that sound to you?”
Kaeya’s jaw hardened. “I still have six months of school left, though. I haven’t really browsed through my options yet.”
Genevieve chuckled. “It wasn’t a question, dear.”
Kaeya’s blood froze in his veins. He quietly exhaled, his eyes riveted on Genevieve, then glancing toward Jerome, his manager. “Excuse me?”
“Cut the innocent act,” Jerome snapped. “We got an anonymous tip from someone who saw you and your boyfriend together.” Kaeya’s chest squeezed on itself — in anger or fear, he couldn’t tell. “Now, if you were just some fluke, you’d be expelled already; the resources to suffocate that kind of scandal are costly, and not every idol is worth the trouble. But fortunately for you, our main studio thinks you’re too valuable to get rid of.” He shrugged. “I’ll be honest with you; you don’t have much of a choice.”
“What he said,” Genevieve added. Was it Kaeya’s imagination, or did her smile widen as he paled? “We’ve heard about your plans to follow the Ragnvindr boy to Dawn Production. I don’t mean to scare you, but…” She pursed her lips in that infuriating, fake resigned way. “That would end badly for both of you. Besides, Dawn Production isn’t doing too well at the moment, right? It would be a shame if they had to handle that kind of scandal, truly.”
She made it sound like a warning, but it was a threat.
Kaeya’s breathing was shallow. He stood up wordlessly, didn’t look at either of them as he left the office.
They didn’t need his false courtesies.
The moment he took Genevieve’s business card, they knew he was at their mercy.
Kaeya had lost everything.
His dreams to walk with Diluc and build something authentic — something that was just theirs, daring in its essence, a rebellion down to its existence.
His dreams to write Sumerian songs for his mother, to crown her with a throne built on the slurs she’d braved for him — high, so high, none of the world’s scorn could ever reach her.
And his first dream — brighter than a thousand suns: Diluc.
Kaeya stepped into the Favonius Ent. Building, heard Diluc’s song, and everything he had ever worked for went up in flames.
He couldn’t walk out of line.
He couldn’t write his own songs.
He couldn’t be with Diluc.
With—Diluc.
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. He’d banged at Genevieve’s door, demanding explanations, but all he got was a playback of the ‘anonymous tip’ she’d received.
She didn’t need to say a word. What was the point? She’d tapped her phone screen, put it on the desk, and then all she’d done was watch as Kaeya processed his most intimate confession to Diluc replaying live, muffled notes of the song captured through a door.
What kind of obsessed stalker did that? Sitting behind the door of a stranger to listen to their private moments, and selling a budding artist’s most precious song in exchange for… what, money? Ownership over the idol? Fame? Clout?
Kaeya sighed. He turned on the bed, hugging himself for a lack of better option. His bedsheets still smelled like Diluc — berries and gentle woodsy notes and sun-kissed leaves in a vineyard.
“My ancestors used to make wine, you know?” Diluc said, walking over coiling roots that protruded from the ground. He’d insisted to go hiking with Kaeya and, truly, Kaeya couldn’t refuse him anything when he was this excited — even if it meant trudging through uncertain terrain under the sun. “It was so long ago, we didn’t know until my dad found some old letters and invoices in the attic.”
“Is that why you’re taking me here?” Kaeya asked as they reached the top of the cliff, taking in the dozens of vineyards that spanned for acres below. The air was sweet with summer-filled grapes, almost ripe for harvesting at the end of August.
But sweeter of all was Diluc standing next to him, with his sun-kissed freckles, his rosy shoulders, his long red hair tied in a high bun, leaving just a few wavy baby hairs tickling his nape.
“No, not really.”
Diluc’s cheeks reddened as he leaned forward, and it didn’t take long before Kaeya caught on the silent permission. How beautiful he was, all nervous and shy yet stubbornly bold, lips trembling even as he closed in the distance between them.
Kaeya wanted to devour him.
He finished what Diluc started, pressing his lips to his with the endearing hesitation of a boy on the cusp of adulthood, playing at being grown and confident while his heart rehearsed the end of the world. It felt so strange, to kiss Diluc — his best friend, his closest ally, his partner in crime, his surrogate coach and dutiful student at once.
Yet it felt so right. The way things should be, even if he had no idea what he was doing, no idea where to touch him or grab him or caress him until he settled for cupping his face.
It was the first of many, many more kisses. Kisses stolen in the dance practice room late at night, after everyone was gone. Kisses in bed and under the shower and on the couch when Kaeya’s mom was gone. Soft kisses, tender kisses, hot and languorous and messy and wet. Kisses like flowers — in every color, for every situation, with hidden messages only them could decipher with a press of silk against silk.
Kisses on the lips, all over the body. Over old and new bruises, over secret hickeys and pulsing veins, over beauty spots and dimples and freckles and every blemish they had to cover with powder and cream to pretend they were plastic.
They didn’t have to pretend, with each other.
Until they did, and Kaeya found there was no kiss for broken hearts, even though they were those that needed it the most.
Kaeya didn’t realize he was crying until he heard a knock on the door. “Habibi, shu fi?” his mom asked through it. “Are you okay?”
He sniffled. Said, “No,” and his mom opened the door, murmuring words of appeasement as she she lied next to him.
She cradled him for hours while he cried everything he had lost, and she never asked why.
The song was a hit. Of course it was. And like every hit, it was played on repeat absolutely everywhere. The gym, the mall, the supermarket, the dance studio. Even at his own home, his mother hummed it under her breath while cooking.
In an alternative universe, Kaeya would not have gone a single second without remembering he was loved. That song, laced with the unconditional truth of Diluc’s confession, blasting through every speaker in Mondstadt, would have made sure of it.
But there was no alternative universe. Every day, Kaeya had to go on and hear that song in the subway, in the street, in the convenience store near the ice rink. Everyday, he would remember all he had lost, rewind their breakup back and forth until he could blink and see it play out again like the first time.
The hurt on Diluc’s face. The resentment, when Kaeya closed his door on him.
The betrayal, accidental as it was.
Years did not erase those memories, Kaeya thought as he scrolled down Diluc’s Twitter. How could they, when Kaeya was the first to jump on Diluc’s premiering MVs, when he watched all his interviews to make sure Diluc was doing well, when his heart missed a beat with every new dating rumor circulating around the web?
The rumors were always just that, rumors, and he had no right to feel rejected when he was the one who broke up, and yet… and yet he couldn’t help the relief every time Diluc tweeted something snarky in response to new gossip.
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/19/2021
You guys need to stop giving me new fictional girlfriends every time you’re bored. My dad might actually think I have a social life beyond otome games
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 11/25/2021
If you’re gonna ship me with Zhongli, the least you could do is get him to sign my autograph
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 12/28/2021
“International star Diluc Ragnvindr caught drinking and driving with sensational actress Ningguang”
Okay first of all 1- thanks? 2- I don’t drink 3- I don’t have a driving license 4- I’m not worthy of her 5- I was watching Home Alone for the 7th time while living true to the title
Kaeya smiled. Was it pathetic, that he was still so hung-up on his ex? That he couldn’t move on despite being the one who ended it all? In appearance, he was doing so well — both were, enough that they’d ended up competing in the same rankings, never outshining the other for long — but internally, he missed Diluc more every day.
It was unfair.
It was so goddamn unfair.
To hold back tears of joy when Diluc won an award. To attend the same shows but not meet, or sit together, or gossip with one another in the backstage rooms.
To climb up the charts alone, and rise in this sky without Diluc when they’d promised to always be together.
Diluc’s song had been the propellant. And like most propellants, it had burned along the way.
There were times when Kaeya thought he could move on, one day, maybe. Others when he looked at his hands and they were still caked in ashes, most of his own doing.
Push, and pull. From the anchor to the storm.
Then, one day, Lisa called Kaeya about a collab request she’d received.
It was from Dawn Production.
Kaeya knew, then, that he’d never wanted to move on to begin with.
Diluc was as stubbornly, unapologetically bright as he’d always been.
Kaeya exhaled quietly as he finished the story. He stared at his hands, his mouth shut, throat dry from years of pent-up frustrations and hidden truths breaking free.
But freedom had a price. Seconds ticked by, and while they were sitting on this roof, under this night sky, in this city where they lived at once dreams and nightmares, people were tweeting, and gossiping, and clicking viewing liking spreading sharing talking talking talking—
“Kae.”
Kaeya flinched. His fingers quivered. He replayed Diluc’s voice in his head, sifting through each drop and spike to pinpoint a shift in tone.
Would Diluc believe him?
Would Diluc trust him?
He hunched a little upon himself, shivering on the bench as a gust of wind whipped his bare arms.
Then, the comforting weight of a jacket still warm from its wearer enveloped his shoulders. It smelled like berries in summer. “Luc, what—”
Diluc dropped to his his knees in front of Kaeya. He grabbed his hands, stared at him straight in the eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he breathed, his eyes bright with emotion even in the night. Some days, they looked like rubies. That night, they were pocket-sized suns. “I could’ve helped, I—”
Endeared, Kaeya finally allowed himself to smile. “They’d have ruined you. I couldn’t risk that happening.”
“But—”
Kaeya leaned in, squeezing Diluc’s hands. How strange it was, to hold them in his own. Was it real? Was all of this real? Was he allowed to gaze in Diluc’s eyes and see those embers of affection sparking into life?
Did he deserve it?
“You would have raised hell, Luc,” Kaeya breathed. “You would have raised hell, and they would have shot down your career before its chance to take flight. I didn’t want that.”
Diluc took Kaeya’s hands to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, his brow furrowing in focus. “You carried all of this alone, all this time.” He exhaled, tightened his grip on Kaeya’s hands. They were so warm. Calloused from relentless work, and impossibly warm. His walking, breathing, loving sun. “I’m sorry, Kae.”
“For what? You couldn’t know. You had every right to be salty.” He couldn’t hold Diluc’s gaze anymore. Too many thoughts jumbled in his head and the sight of those eyes could unravel every last shred of intelligence he still had. Kaeya had dreamed of this moment for so long — twining his fingers with Diluc’s, spilling the truth to him as if it could erase the past years trudging alone when he was supposed to be by Diluc’s side — but now that it was happening… he couldn’t believe it was real.
Diluc sat by Kaeya’s side. He turned to look at Kaeya, half-straddling the bench for a more comfortable position. His face was locked in intense focus, and he was biting his lower lip. “I kinda just ruined all those efforts, didn’t I?”
“That you did. Now every social media and gossip magazine will be talking about us.” Kaeya shrugged. He closed Diluc’s jacket upon his frame, latching onto the scent of home for a few seconds. He had missed so much. “I hope they got a good angle.”
Diluc’s cheeks flushed. “About that… I’ll come up with something. I promise. You’re not alone this time — and I know it doesn’t sound reassuring ‘cause I act like I have half a brain, but I’ll find something.”
Kaeya poked Diluc’s nose, his lips curling in a smile as Diluc scrunched his nose. “We will find something, Luc.” He grabbed Diluc’s shirt, then, pulling him toward him, and every last warning in his mind died as he said: “Kiss me properly, now.”
Bodies did not forget. It was something Diluc had realized when he and Kaeya danced together, hours earlier. Their feet knew where to be, their hands what to grab, their waists how to twist within the same cursive word.
As he undressed Kaeya, lips kissing their way down Kaeya’s chest along opened buttons, Diluc’s body still remembered.
It still remembered Kaeya shivered in pleasure when he kissed his hipbone. It still rumbled with satisfaction when Kaeya turned his head away, offering his neck like a summer peach. It still fit perfectly with Kaeya’s, limbs slotted together in that way only familiar bodies could be, reminiscent of countless embraces spelling a wish for closer, closer still.
“I missed you so much,” Diluc breathed, pressing a kiss on Kaeya’s neck, teeth and tongue marking him where everyone could see. What was the point of hiding, now?
Kaeya stirred beneath him, nails digging into Diluc’s back as if he’d read his thoughts. Mark me, Diluc wanted to say. Claim me. Show them I’m yours. “I missed you too, Luc.” He smiled, carding his fingers through Diluc’s hair. “You know tomorrow is gonna be hell on earth, hm?”
“I know,” Diluc replied. He gently parted Kaeya’s thighs, pinning them to the mattress, eyes riveted on the shadows dancing across his body. “But tonight, it’s just us two.”
Kaeya moaned as Diluc slowly pushed into him, fingers still slick with lube twining with his, legs tangled together in a beautiful mess, feverish gazes locked together as though there was nothing else to see in the world.
Maybe there wasn’t. Maybe it was okay, if this was their world — sugared moans drunk from each other’s lips, and knowing smiles bursting into laughter between two kisses. What else was there to hear, beside the way Kaeya cried out Diluc’s name — and whimpered it, and sighed it, and breathed it, and murmured it with a lovely laugh in Diluc’s ear — while Diluc fucked him into a pliant mess? What else was there to worship, beside each curve and beauty spot of Kaeya’s body, each angle and each bruise, each portion of skin that pulsed and rhymed with his requests for more?
The day Diluc won his first award, he’d promised in his speech that he’d be back for more. That he wouldn’t stop at one, or two, or ten, because he had been put on this world to give and take as much as he could.
People had called him greedy. They were right, he thought as he came into Kaeya, holding his hips for dear life, his vision flashing white as he slumped against his lover. They were right, because even as he grabbed Kaeya’s cock and finished what he’d started, he knew he wouldn’t stop at one, or two, or ten.
He wanted more. He wanted to fuck Kaeya for every time he’d dreamed of it and hated himself for it, for every night he’d cried alone in his bed because it still smelled like calla lilies, for all the times he’d stared at the file for Push & Pull and nearly deleted it. He wanted to lie down and open his legs for Kaeya, to be filled by him and be fucked by him, to forget what they had left behind and what awaited them.
He clung to Kaeya as the latter rode his orgasm with praise on his lips — “You’re doing so well, Luc—my Luc—”. Buried his face in Kaeya’s neck and held him close and tight as he, too, spilled between them with a muffled confession. And when they came down from their high, both sated and fucked silly, he nuzzled into Kaeya’s embrace, his hands resting on his shoulders, fingers tracing their lean yet broad stature.
It was with those shoulders that Kaeya had carried the weight of the world. That he’d protected him, walking across a path of thorns so Diluc wouldn’t have to, taking the bad role to spare him from ugly truths and uglier realities.
“I’m here,” Diluc breathed, pressing his lips to Kaeya’s brow as the latter snaked his arms around his waist, his breathing evening, first, then breaking into a sob. His hands were soft and burning, his cheeks flush and wet with tears, his eyes shy and searching.
Diluc kissed Kaeya’s wrist, and his eyelids, and his tear-stricken cheeks. He held Kaeya, murmured gentle confessions until he stopped crying, and stroked his hair and his back until he fell asleep.
And then, Diluc swore he’d take down the entire music industry for what they’d done to Kaeya.
Part IV: Twice As High
Rebound
verb
/rɪˈbaʊnd/
bounce back through the air after hitting something hard.
Usually, when Kaeya woke up, the first thing he did was check his phone. According to experts, it was a terrible habit, but he’d never really cared about that; he was already a mess, what could a few more minutes of screen time do to his brain?
That morning, Kaeya suddenly cared about his screen time.
“You know, you shouldn’t your phone as soon as you wake up,” he slurred through his sleep, one heavy hand patting the mattress for Diluc. His search unfruitful, Kaeya sat upright, wincing a little as he leaned forward. There were bruises on his hips and his ass was sore, courtesy of his best-friend-turned-boyfriend-turned-ex-turned-coworker-turned-friends-again-turned-hopefully-boyfriend. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around him for said maybe-boyfriend while his vision cleared out. “Hey, Luc… Why are you not in bed?”
Diluc glanced at him from the foot of the bed, fully dressed. “Had to take a shower. I had… down my leg.”
Kaeya rolled his eyes. “What’s with the accusatory look? You came inside me too.”
“Good.”
He bundled the sheets by his hips, taming a blush. “Anyway…” His voice drawled as he followed Diluc, who crawled up the bed in his clothes and unceremoniously flopped on top of Kaeya, effectively knocking the breath out of him. “OOF.”
Diluc rained down kiss upon kiss on Kaeya’s face. He ended his greeting ceremony by biting Kaeya’s cheeks, then grinned at his handiwork, still on top of Kaeya. “Hi Kae.”
Endeared, Kaeya smiled despite his dizziness. “You can’t just say ‘good morning’ like normal people.”
“No. Also,” he started, pushing on his hands to kneel on the bed. “I have good and bad news.”
“There are good news?”
Diluc puckered his lips and nodded, which translated into ‘not really, but I don’t want you freaking out.’ “Sure.”
“Okay. The bad news?”
Diluc took a deep breath. “We’re trending on Twitter, TikTok, YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr, Weverse, Barbie Forums, and a BDSM hub network. Among others. There’s a rumor that we’re brothers, spies from Snezhnaya hired to distract people while politics pass drastic laws, twin brothers separated at birth, actors doing a PR stunt for the real Kaeya and Diluc, and… step-brothers.” He shrugged. “I dunno why people love the whole brother theme. Maybe they’re into incest. Or do you think it’s because of our early career? We did get cast as brothers in a drama once, but—” He frowned. “Is it bad that I don’t remember the title?”
“Brother Impact… was the title.”
“Right. Brother Impact. There was discourse every day and people tweeting at us asking what they could and couldn’t ship.” He snorted. “Good times.”
“… Huh. Anyway, all of this… happened today?” Kaeya tried.
“Oh, I’m not done. Your sweater is on E-bay. They’re selling it for 2 million mora because of its ‘Authentic Kaeya Fragrance’. Some people are also selling your bathwater, presumably, piles of dust we walked on during the pursuit, and bags of air from the ice rink where they found us. Annnd… we have ten missed calls from our managers. I texted them to tell them we’re gonna be late, but they told me to just stay put; apparently some fans and reporters are flooding the streets around both Favonius HQ and Dawn Prod sooo… it’s not safe.”
“…”
“Oh, and, you’re out of cereals.”
Kaeya whined. “Okay. The good news?”
Diluc grinned. “We’re the most read ship on AO3 by a long shot. Here, look.” He showed his phone to Kaeya, scrolling down hundreds and hundreds of fanfictions — some of which he had bookmarked. “Today, the Melt Reaction shippers are eating well.”
“… Is that our ship name?”
“Yeah.” Diluc plopped on the bed, crossing his legs under him. “There’s also ‘Luckae Shot’, cause, cause you know…”
“Yes, cause I have a song called ‘Lucky Shot’.”
“Spot on. And ‘kaelucdoscopic’, cause of my album—”
“Kaleidoscopic. I know.” Kaeya cleared his throat. “You’re very well-versed in Melt Reaction trivia.”
Diluc’s cheeks reddened, but his grin didn’t falter. It should be illegal, to miss out on such unparalleled light. “Would you be weirded out if I told you I’ve read some of them?”
“Why would I be? You’ve always been a nerd,” Kaeya teased. “Besides, I’ve had my share of embarrassing moments.”
“Like what?”
“You want me to handfeed you the knowledge to kill me.”
Diluc nodded vivaciously. He was so cheerful, one might not guess he and Kaeya were on the verge of a forced early retirement because of a single kiss. “I have plenty to share in return.”
“Okay.” Kaeya brought his knees to his chest, still hiding under the sheets. “I cried when I did my first laundry after our breakup because I knew it would remove your scent from my sheets. I went hiking every Saturday on the cliff where we first kissed in some foolish hope to see you. I have all your makeup merch and all your albums. I have screenshots of all the early bird purchase tickets I got from buying your merch. I went to all your concerts, but purposely avoided barricade because I knew I’d break down if you looked at me.” He looked down. “I got your perfume — the one you used to wear, not the one you launched with your brand — and whenever I missed you, I’d just… wear it.” He chuckled. “I sound pathetic.”
Diluc took his hand and kissed it. “I once had a big fight with one your fans on my personal account because she claimed you weren’t into guys. I got banned for twelve hours for telling her she was an ugly bitch.”
Kaeya burst out laughing. “You told her what?”
“In my defense, her attitude was very ugly.” He pouted. “I went into our ship tag every day to block people who hated on you. I’d stay up to watch your MVs whenever they premiered and cleared searches with your fans when someone said some shit about you.” He shrugged. “I spent a lot of time being bitter cause I had no idea you’d gone through all that to protect me, but… I hated you, and still loved you at the same time.” He smiled.
With a sigh, Kaeya squeezed Diluc’s hand — his anchor. “I kept you in the dark for so long; how can you be this luminous, still?”
Diluc blushed. “Me?”
“Yes, you, Luc.” He kissed his cheek, lingering just enough to smell his perfume — berries, burned wood, a vineyard in summer. Diluc. “I hope we’ll be okay. I hope you’ll be okay.”
“My dad won’t fire me for kissing you. Perks of nepotism, huh.” He frowned. “When I kissed you, I wasn’t thinking. I mean, obviously — otherwise I wouldn’t be here — but… I forgot not every company functions like ours. If Favonius breaks your contract—”
“I’d rather go down with you than rise on my own.” Kaeya tilted his head. “Although, ideally, neither of us goes down, but I wanted to wriggle my cool one-liner somewhere in this conversation, so.”
Diluc giggled — and, oh, Kaeya had forgotten just how much he adored that sound. It made Diluc sound so much younger. “I’ll cushion your fall. Enough of you carrying the weight of the world alone.” He leaned forward, a resolute spark in his eyes. “And I think I know how to turn that fall into a big rebound.”
“I can’t believe you ruined not one, but two careers in the same two-minute span!” Adelinde shouted, all the while pushing Diluc and Kaeya forward. They were on their way to the dance practice room, with Lisa behind them hiding a chuckle behind her hand. “How thoughtless can you be!”
They reached the dance practice rooms fast enough that Diluc didn’t have time to feel bad. As soon as they were in, Lisa locked the door, and—
And then Adelinde embraced them.
He choked. “Wha—”
“You had us so worried,” Adelinde breathed, very nearly crushing them against her. She broke the embrace and held him and Kaeya at an arm’s length. “How was I?”
“Flawless,” Lisa said. “The execution was so convincing, I almost thought they were in for a session of ass-beating. I’d have let it happen, to be fair.” Then, at their dumbfounded expressions, she added: “We can’t let people think we’re flippant about this scandal. Let them talk among themselves. They don’t have to know where we stand.”
“Meaning…” Kaeya started, flipping between Adelinde and Lisa.
“Meaning that we are so happy for you,” Adelinde finished. “Absolutely over the moon. The way things should be.” She gripped their shoulders so hard, they’d get bruises from it. “I will crush Favonius for how they treated you.”
Diluc flinched. “Wait, you knew?”
Lisa sat on a waiting bench, elegantly crossing her leg over the other. “I found out not long ago.” Lisa pursed her lips, surely measuring just how much she could reveal. “Jean and I are dating.”
A moment passed. Diluc gaped, Kaeya hiccupped. “Jean as in… Dandelion’s Jean?”
“Yes. We tried to keep our relationship secret, but someone found out.”
“Was it Genevieve?” Kaeya asked tentatively, and Lisa whipped her head toward him.
“That’s her alright. She gave me a month to leave the company — which, naturally, would make her inherit management over Kaeya. So—” she crossed and uncrossed her leg, her smile turning wicked “—being the obedient person I am, I looked into her trash until I found something reprehensible.”
“When I volunteered for a collab, I wasn’t aware of all this business,” Adelinde then spoke, starting where Lisa left off. “But Lisa still told me everything on our second meeting, with all the evidence she had of Genevieve coercing Kaeya into joining Favonius Ent. And, of course, the threats toward Diluc. We were going to tell you eventually, but you… kinda beat us to it.”
Lisa chuckled, as if remembering something. “You know the saying ‘fight fire with fire’? I always thought it made no sense, but I think it applies, here.”
Ten seconds. Twenty. Forty—Diluc had almost forgotten how to breathe. “You want to cover up this scandal with another scandal,” he deduced.
Lisa nodded. “If Genevieve gets entangled in a scandal, President Varka will be forced to listen to us. However, there are a lot of good artists at Favonius Ent. despite the poor management, and I’d hate to see them suffer, so I prefer waiting before doing anything.”
Next to Diluc, Adelinde squeezed his shoulder. “It does mean you two will have to suffer a little bit.”
“Actually,” Diluc started, already fishing for his phone. “I think I know how we can turn this scandal into PR for our collab.”
Adelinde and Lisa exchanged a stare, then they smirked. “Tell us everything,” Adelinde spelled out, vengeful venom dripping down her voice, and Diluc was glad she was not his enemy.
The plan was simple. It consisted in five phases, each as important as the other:
Phase 1: Actually, Here’s More Pics For Your Trash Magazines
Phase 2: And Now All Twitter Will Third-Wheel Us
Phase 3: Melting Duo Cinematic Universe, Now Out
Phase 4: Your Hate Comments Pay My Rent
Phase 5: This Is My Life, And I’m Taking It Back
Phase 1 was easy. They took a few pics as a couple, including one where they kissed that they covered with an ‘Oops!’ heart sticker, and Instagram went down for two hours from server overload.
Phase 2…
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/29/2022
Y’all thought I was kidding when I said love was kaelucdoscopic I mean kaelucdoscopic I mean kaelucdoscopic I mean—
#
Kaeya A. @kaeyalberich 09/29/2022
Babe are you my Luckae Shot? Because I can’t believe I pulled you…
#
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/29/2022
People keep tagging me in pics of Kaeya as if I don’t already own every single one of them in 4k framed on my walls in my wallet in my heart in my bed tattooed in the back of my eyelids and on my left buttcheek
#
Kaeya A. @kaeyalberich 09/29/2022
He isn’t lying when he says he has a lot of pics of me. But he doesn’t know I subscribed to the Patreon of a NSFW artist who draws him in compromising situations
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/29/2022
What compromising situations… I just wanna know… for science………..
Kaeya A. @kaeyalberich 09/29/2022
Oh… You’ll find out
#
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/29/2022
I found out.
Shoutout to rotisserie chickens; only the backbone of society can pull off shibari without getting sore muscles
Kaeya A. @kaeyalberich 09/29/2022
Babe stop tweeting
Diluc @ragnvindrdawn 09/29/2022
No
#
Phase 2 had already been screenshot and reposted in every single ‘Melting Duo’ AU on AO3, Twitter, Tumblr, and a thousand different peoples magazines. The reactions were all over the place.
I am NOT giving back this @ @meltingduo 09/29/2022
Okay but. I was the OG. REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD U WHEN BROTHER IMPACT AIRED? THESE TWO FUCK. THEY FUCK. THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE I LOOK AT DESSERT which doesn’t mean I fuck my dessert but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. AND IM RIGHT.
Kaeya and Diluc under a tree @kaelucimpact 09/29/2022
djkhkzjh my birthday wish from 3 yrs ago came true,, first of all, i would like to thank our Lords and Saviors Diluc and Kaeya. if it werent for you id be going out with a loser but u showed me what true love means. secondly, thank you mom for baking that birthday cake and giving birth to me
Pallad @helpmepls 10/03/2022
Who are Kaeya and Diluc and why is everyone screaming about them? They’ve been trending for three days now. Why tf do yall care so much about who they date
jimin’s feetsies7 @blackswan101395 10/03/2022
yoooooooooo im so happy for them but also man the searches we’re gonna have to clear……………………. Rip
World cold kaeya soft and warm @dickluc69 10/03/2022
Actually crying at the club run holy duck. Can’t see through my tears. Autocorrect is having a field’s day. Luckae is real, amen
#
Phase 2 was also still ongoing, because Diluc took his phone everywhere and now that this mental barrier was down, there was nothing to stop him from tweeting about how much he loved Kaeya every breathing second of the day. If Twitter were a circus — and it was — Diluc would be the main clown. Every interaction — positive or negative — went in the same counter, and Twitter was now pushing all of his circus performances — his tweets — to everyone who had the app.
Everyone.
Ms. Mimosa the Fontaine teacher, Denis the janitor of their middle school, Eula who danced with Jean and tweeted something vaguely supportive, Ms. Watanabe from the Inazuman convenience store down Diluc’s street… Everyone.
Which means everyone knew about their upcoming collab. After all, right under #MELTINGDUO, #STREAMBIYO was trending, ‘BIYO’ standing for ‘Back In Your Orbit’ their new collab’s title, chosen… right this morning.
Phase 3, however, had required some help from Adelinde, Lisa, and Diluc’s main video editor. They filmed a few teasers from their new collab’s dance practice and posted them on YouTube, along with a few spontaneous Q&A they’d done on Twitter.
People loved them. And the song being called ‘Back in Your Orbit’ had spawned a hundred fics with some variation of this title. Truly, Melting Duo fans were having a feast, and in return, they sold out everything in Diluc’s and Kaeya’s merch shops.
Absolutely. Everything.
Dawn Prod’s and Favonius Ent’s stocks had been plummeting, but their revenue quadrupled, hence… the slow rebound of their stocks.
As planned.
Besides, speaking of revenue, the result of Phase 4 — implemented in the form of a ‘reading my hate tweets’ kinda interview — was similar. The clip of Kaeya losing it at someone calling Diluc ‘Hot Topic Ariel’ was circulating on the Internet. The new reaction pic of Kaeya doubling over with laughter, hiding in Diluc’s neck with tears down his face, patting Diluc’s head and pinching his cheeks to ‘console him’ had reached big hubs like Reddit and 9Gag, which led to ‘Melting Duo’ being a trending topic in the aforementioned apps, which led… to gamers finding out Diluc was a Grandmaster Hanzo player.
Which led to them listening to his songs — yes, even those of them who were the most critical of his ‘questionable gameplay’ and his ‘lackluster aim’.
Which led to some of them buying his album — as a meme or genuine interest, the result was the exact same.
Which led… to Diluc’s rent being paid.
And now, for Phase 5.
The open hearts and, he hoped, open minds.
The ultimate ‘fuck you’ to everything that stood in his way.
Diluc’s studio was eerily quiet. He and Kaeya were sitting at his desk, facing the computer — or rather, the high quality webcam strapped to it.
“Are you ready?” he breathed, the mouse hovering above the stream button.
“Yeah?” Kaeya chuckled nervously. Despite all their flirting, this would be the first time they’d be live on their own, without any script, marketing team, or camera beside Diluc’s webcam. “I mean, we’re not gonna make out or anything.”
Diluc smiled. “We can opt out of this if you want.”
Kaeya took the mouse and clicked on the ‘go live’ button.
Seconds later, three million people were already on, spamming ‘hi’ and ‘hello’ in chats along with ‘marry me daddy’ and ‘kiss kiss kiss’ repeated a hundred times over.
Hello from Mondstadt!
Cold kisses from Snezhnaya!
Bonjour, big hugs from Fontaine
Liyue Melting Duo fans say hi!
Sumeru supports you forever and ever
We love you from Natlan to Inazuma and everything in between
It was a mess. Al of it. The comments, the live, the things they said, the teasers they spoiled, the unfiltered guffaws at some of their sweetest fans’ jokes. But it was a good mess. An authentic mess. A mess spelled with their names, with their history together, with their future held in their palms for the first time in years and their fanbase ready to follow them to the end of Teyvat.
And, with Adelinde’s and Lisa’s blessing, Kaeya revealed everything.
“It was very hard,” Kaeya admitted, staring at the screen rather than the webcam to avoid three — no, four, five, six — million people. “Pretending I wasn’t in love with him. Avoiding him. Keeping to myself because the truth was so much worse. It was… hell.” He glanced toward Diluc, who offered his warmest smile – worth a thousand embraces. “There’s a manager in Favonius Entertainment who received compromising footage of Diluc and I. In it, there was a song he’d written for me, that she stole from Diluc and later released under the name ‘Magnetic’.”
He bit his lip, took a deep breath. There were so many people; he couldn’t cry. His fans would worry and he needed to be strong — for them, for Diluc, and for himself.
But when Diluc gentle squeezed his hand, Kaeya couldn’t keep the pressure from leaking down his eyes — years of being strong, of carrying the world on his shoulders so his sun wouldn’t fall off its axis. He allowed one, two tears — then wiped them as if nothing had happened.
“The song was initially called ‘Push & Pull’,” Diluc took over, earning Kaeya a few more seconds to pull himself together. “They renamed it — which, by the way, makes no sense; ‘Push & Pull’ refers to a storm. I wrote it for Kaeya — because he was my anchor in the storm. But since they’d changed the title and some of the lyrics — and because I had no proof that they’d stolen my work — I couldn’t sue them. Especially that the footage — which I wasn’t aware of — would expose our relationship.”
“It’s precisely because of this footage that I was coerced into joining Favonius Entertainment,” Kaeya added.” A stalker had sent it to this manager out of jealousy or, I dunno, some kinda power trip. And, yeah, I to had break up with him at the time.”
The chat went wild. Messages fused on and on, Kaeya couldn’t keep track of them. Most were supportive, and it was all that mattered. Sharing his story — his genesis, in a way, into the cool and composed image Favonius sold of him — was terrifying, but it was also so damn freeing.
“You okay?” Diluc murmured, his gaze riveted on Kaeya.
Kaeya nodded. Then, to the chat, he continued: “Please keep supporting the artists of Favonius Ent. They’re not responsible for this manager’s actions, and I don’t want any more suffering because of her. But…” He ginned at Diluc, taking his hand for all to see. “Thanks to our current managers, we were able to reconnect. I hope you like the song.”
“We have more in store,” Diluc added.
“We do?”
Diluc tilted his head, his gaze knowing. “You’ll see.”
The next day, the Dandelions — previously under Genevieve’s management — were the first to openly express their support of Diluc’s and Kaeya’s relationship. When rumors of Kaeya’s contract being nullified scattered through the music industry, the Dandelions answered by calling for their fans to boycott the company — a message followed by more and more artists until CEO Varka gave a statement about protecting their artists’ integrity and wellbeing first and foremost.
Hours later, Genevieve was fired, and ‘Back In Your Orbit’ was number 1 on every music chart in Teyvat.
Part V: The Gravity Of You
Kaeya
| kaeya |
PERSON
My anchor.
The sun wasn’t up yet, but it would be in a few minutes.
To Kaeya, who was snuggled so close to Diluc their heartbeats could be stamped on each other’s body, it had never stopped shining. That was the perk of Diluc’s presence; he kept the darkness at bay, and with it, the fears and antagonists caging Kaeya all the past years.
He pressed a kiss to Diluc’s chest, closed his eyes to imprint those heartbeats against his lips.
He was everything to Kaeya.
His earth, his moon, his sun. The gravity pulls among them.
The balance.
With a yawn, Diluc closed his arms around Kaeya, lazily flipping them so he was the one lying on Kaeya’s chest. “So sleepy. Why are we awake?”
“You wanted us to wake early.”
“Oh. Right. Why did I say that?”
“I don’t know, Luc. I can’t read minds.”
Diluc yawned again. He propped himself up on his elbows then, offering a small smile. “I remember.”
That was the cue for them to go. After a quick — but full — breakfast, Kaeya drove them to the location Diluc put in the GPS. Judging from the clothes he’d insisted Kaeya wear — sports gear, with hiking boots and a big hoodie — and the big bags in the trunk of the car, Kaeya was in for an emotional and exhausting day.
And indeed, after parking their car near Wolvendom, there it was: the Wolvendom natural parks and reserves, with the best hiking spots in Mondstadt.
“You sly, romantic fool,” Kaeya called out, hauling the bags from the trunk.
Diluc snickered. He grabbed the bigger bag, then gave the other to Kaeya. “Let’s go. We wanna get on top in time to see the sunrise.”
“A sunrise at the place we first kissed… Can this get any more romantic?”
“Oh, it can.”
Kaeya was in a treat. He could tell, because the higher they climbed, the more nervous Diluc became. By the time they reached the top, he was a bundle of nerves with feet and freckles, and he all but threw their bag over the cliff in his clumsy attempts to set the picnic sheet under them.
Then, they sat down, and watched as the sun shyly colored the sky. Pinks and golds bled into the clouds that slowly parted for the sun. Below them, the vineyards were wet with dew, and light bounced onto it in shimmery colors. It was a scene straight out of a painting — and so was the young man sitting to Kaeya, with his aloof smile digging dimples into his cheeks, with his red untameable curls, with the freckles that dusted his face like a map for Kaeya to read with his lips.
“Is this the moment I kiss you?” Kaeya murmured, his heart leaping when Diluc beamed at him and soundly kissed his cheek.
“You don’t need a particular moment to kiss me. By all means, smother me with your kisses. And your tits. And your thighs—”
“Picnic morning sex? Really?”
Diluc rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of your pants for a second.”
“You—” He glared at Diluc. “Okay. Just a second then.”
He took his phone, frowning at it as he unlocked it and fumbled with it. Briskly, he wiped his palms on his leggings, jerky movements betraying his anxiety. “Okay. Okay.” He turned toward Kaeya, resolute. “The first time I did this ended with a disaster. But this time, I have every intention to follow wherever you go.”
“… Sure?”
“Are you ready?”
“… Are you?”
“No.” Still, he pressed play.
There were no lyrics, this time. Just a collection of deep piano melodies strewn together, a burgeon of a song. Kaeya closed his eyes, his mind reeling with thousands of memories with Diluc, picturing his fingers flying across ivory keys.
He knew what those notes meant. Not because they had a subliminal message encoded into them, or an academic pattern to peel through.
No. He knew what they meant, because he could remember how Diluc looked when he played those notes in the past. The melancholy of a ballad, the upbeat rhythm of a celebration, the drawling sounds of exhaustion, the pitter-patter of tears in the shower.
Somehow, they fit together. Those mismatched melodies strewn together in a coherent, beautiful mess.
“It’s called A Study On Gravity,” Diluc said, mumbling through his anxiety. “Gravity is one of the strongest forces in the Universe. Well, technically, the strong nuclear force is six times stronger, but it sounded less cool in a title.” He smiled. “You’re my gravity, Kae. You keep my feet on the ground and the air in my lungs.”
Kaeya cupped Diluc’s cheeks and kissed him. He kissed him like the dew kissed the grapes on cold autumn mornings and the moon kissed the sun during those few moments they were the sky together. Ephemeral, eternal, inevitable.
Just like gravity.