Work Text:
zero.
Thoma brushes Ayato’s hair back where they lay on their shared futon, his breathing slow.
Ayato had been talking a mile a minute about his excitement for their plans the next day – a vacation, finally. Somewhere small and secluded by the beach – Thoma feared the water still but Ayato would hold him. Promised to hold him close where they’d sit at the shoreline, counting down to the oranges and pinks of the sunset. Then, kiss under the stars for hours.
It seemed, the great Lord Commissioner tired himself out, too.
Gently, Thoma presses a kiss over the beauty mark by his lip.
I’ll look for you in every lifetime, Ayato had said far too long ago.
Thoma’s heart had burst, unknowing of what any mortal was ever to do with all the love in their heart.
And I’ll love you in each one, Thoma had promised in return.
one.
Thoma has to yell over the music when the blue-haired man grabbed his arm, gentle yet firm.
“What?” Thoma cries out, tapping his ear once as he felt himself being pulled closer.
The bass thrummed underneath his feet. The gin and tonics were taking effect, making him feel dreamlike, almost.
“I feel like,” there’s a curl of his lip, as if he was self-aware how ridiculous he sounded, or just wanted to say anything to get Thoma’s attention. “I’ve met you before.”
Thoma pulls back, squinting at the other man. He thinks, genuinely thinks, as he’s giving him the benefit of the doubt. At worst, it’s a low effort pick-up line.
The smile is soft, coaxing.
“I feel like I would remember.” Thoma admits and behind the man, Yoimiya’s waving at him. “Uh, have a good night okay!”
Thoma feels as if there’s a hole in his chest as he’s in the taxi ride back to the hotel. He sleeps on Yoimiya's shoulder instead.
Nausea, maybe.
two.
“Thoma,” his father asks, ruffling his hair. “Do you wanna go on a trip with me?”
Thoma is seven, and staring at the same map that’s been handed down from his grandfather to his father, and someday, him. At the word trip, Thoma jumps.
Does he mean Inazuma, his homeland? The pictures of multicolored trees and ever-purple skies, delicious looking dango that his father had tried to replicate with local products, but failed to get the right consistency of. The story of great clans leading and swordsmen with swords much longer and sleeker than the wooden play swords his parents crafted for him. Samurai in gilded armor and codes of honor.
“Easy, buddy,” his father laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever taken you to Liyue. I just gotta sort some stuff out but it’s worth seeing a boat or two, yeah?”
Liyue? Thoma jumped, still. He remembers hearing of a great dragon, of spicy food (certainly much more than he’s allowed to have), and something called the opera. “Yeah!”
His father smiles again, sadly. “And one day, we’ll go to where I grew up. For now, I’ll show you how huge those boats are, where they take everyone across the sea.”
Thoma’s never seen the ocean, but his mother says it’s at least a thousand Starfell Lakes. He almost didn’t believe her. He could barely swim across the length of it!
Now that he really thinks about it, it does sound kind of scary. Maybe he’ll wait till he’s as tall as his dad until he can ride on one of the ships – something he’s only seen in books and his father’s prized bottled one.
His mother packs his lighter clothing for their trip and tells him he can only bring one book and maybe his toy sword if he ate his vegetables. Thoma does.
In years to come, they only hear news of how the seas have become far too turbulent to traverse from Liyue.
Inazuma closes off.
Thoma stays in Mondstadt, hanging up dreams of becoming an adventurer or a knight. He helps his mother carry her wares to and from Mondstadt, even long after his father’s death.
two point five.
Somewhere in Narukami Island, sake spills in celebration of the fall of the Kamisato clan.
three.
“And who do I make this out to?”
Thoma makes a strangled noise.
“Oh! Um. Thoma. Just Thoma.”
This close, Thoma can see the stage glitter under Ayato’s eyes, and the way his eyeliner had already creased. Somehow his being more real only made Thoma’s heart beat faster and his palms so much sweatier he has no clue if they can even take the photo back and shake Ayato’s hand again.
“Alright,” Ayato smiles up at him, dazzling. He’s still in his stage outfit, revealing in places Thoma didn’t even realize were tantalizing – namely, his wrist or his waist or the side of his thigh–
“Here you go, Thoma–”
“I love you,” Thoma blurts, as if his red face hasn’t embarrassed him enough. “I love you so much.”
Ayato stares back at him, mouth agape. His eyebrows furrow, as if he’s considering these words.
Thoma feels like an idiot. No doubt Ayato hears this from his female fans all the time but what male fan professes their undying love? Oh god, was Ayato homophobic?
“Thank you for your support,” Ayato says, likely some clinical or programmed response his management has told him to say. Then, said with all the tenderness as if there wasn’t security and his manager in the tent “I love you too.”
Thoma takes the photo back, bowing. Which, after a declaration of love, should feel odd.
He tells himself he’s deluding himself thinking Ayato meant anything.
four.
“Which one’s yours?”
Eleonore tears her eyes away from Thoma, looking back at the elegant woman who’s taken a seat beside her. She’s carrying a sleepy looking baby girl, who’s sucking lazily at the pacifier in her mouth.
“Blond,” she giggles. “Red overalls.”
Kayo squints,. “Oh! He’s with my Ayato right now.”
“I am so sorry,” Eleonore blurts. “Is he being too rowdy?”
She gets ready to reprimand Thoma, who’s been pulling at the other poor child’s wrist. The child, icy hair just like the woman beside her, looks down at his sand sculpture. Eleonore swallows, already accounting for her son’s endless energy.
“No, no!” Kayo waves her off, laughing with delight. Her laugh wakes up her baby, who frowns slightly, sucking at her pacifier almost spitefully. She runs a hand over thin hair hair to soothe her. “I’m just so happy he’s finally got a friend.”
She then lowers her voice into a whisper as she presses a kiss on the baby’s forehead. “This is Ayaka. She’s much friendlier, if a bit cranky when it’s almost naptime. But believe me, she loves strangers.”
“Hi Ayaka,” Eleonore coos, resisting every urge to punch at her plump cheeks. Kayo grins back.
Ayaka reaches over to grasp at the blonde hair. She makes a small noise of wonder.
“Told you,” Kayo smirks. “She convinced me to stop at two kids, good god.”
Eleonore replaces the tuft of hair that Ayaka’s grasping with her index finger, tickling her palm. “Thoma made me stop at one.”
Kayo laughs. “They’re angels, though. We’ve had to move around a lot because of their dad. They’ve yet to properly complain.”
Eleonore catches her staring wistfully at the two boys on the sandcastle, now creating some sort of sand structure that Thoma’s rapidly explaining to be a castle, but Ayato has a concentrated look on his face, talking slowly as if to explain exactly why it isn’t a castle.
“I’m glad they get to make friends as much as they can.”
At this, Eleonore nods. Thoma’s never had trouble making friends but she supposes she could understand the struggle. If her own husband moved around far too much for work, she’d imagine it’d be difficult on her too. If anything, Kayo doesn’t let it show.
When Kayo and her children leave, it’s the first time Thoma cries after losing a new friend. He doesn’t cry in front of Ayato, but does in the car with his mother, even after the promise of ice cream.
“Baby, you’ll make new friends, I promise.” Eleonore says, wiping at his red cheeks.
“Yeah, but no one else like him.”
She smiles sympathetically. Maybe she’ll never know what that means to Thoma at his age, or maybe she herself has forgotten. She ruffles his hair and kisses his forehead instead, sighing.
“Maybe you’ll meet him again someday.”
“Promise?”
Thoma has his pinky out.
Eleonore crosses her own over it. “I promise.”
five.
Ayato.
AyatoAyatoAyato.
The name is a mantra in his head.
He has to find him.
He’s been in Inazuma for five months now and the weight on his chest has grown into a merciless void, wanting and insatiable in how it cries out for a singular name.
It takes him this long to set up a respectable stall in Ritou, offering all kinds of unique food concepts that took both Mondstadt and Inazuman cuisine that most people seemed to appreciate. He makes a name for himself.
And then.
The Yashiro Commissioner had dropped by his stall, looked over his menu and smiled politely when he said he’s just eaten.
Lifetimes flash back to him. Moonlight over the sheets of a futon. Kisses over familiar beauty marks.
“Come again tomorrow, then.”
Ayato looks at him for a while, nodding. “But of course.”
Thoma doesn’t wait until tomorrow.
His shoes are caked with mud that nearly reaches his knees, and his hair is matted over his forehead. He feels like crying. His body aches and his mind races.
Would you believe me?
The guards don’t let him in, given his state.
The Lady looks confused when Thoma explains what’s on his mind. He burns, and has burned at every lifetime.
She looks at him with a sad smile. Another hopelessly in love suitor, she must think.
Thoma wants to yell to the Archons.
Ayato must have received word of his visit. He doesn’t return tomorrow.
six.
“Foolish, far too foolish.”
The Pyro Archon shakes his head. “No. I’ve waited.”
“Have you?”
“Is it so unbelievable that I worship you too?”
The Hydro Archon throws his head back and laughs. “Victory often sates most. Yet you ask for the love of another god.”
A shiver, at the mention of the War.
“This will not last.”
He knows. The other lifetimes were too clear in his head. Visceral.
Should he fall and lose him, one more time, immortality was the gravest curse.
The Pyro Archon, dares.
“It shall, in another.”
zero.
Something jostles Ayato awake.
Thoma’s asleep beside him. He won’t know that he’s only just now fallen asleep after hours of staring over at Ayato. How he tired himself out.
The sweetest boy, Ayato thinks.
When Thoma’s eyebrows furrow in his sleep, Ayato rubs over it with his thumb.
“That’ll just give you wrinkles, my love,” Ayato tuts under his breath as his hand finds the side of his face.
Thoma grumbles, and Ayato thinks he might hear his own name.
“I dreamt you kissed me in my sleep and said goodbye,” Ayato whispers drowsily, as if he’s trying to recount the dream for himself. “No – I’m not even sure if you did say goodbye. Rude.”
Thoma snores.
“Good point. I probably deserved it. I shan’t argue with you about interior design. Though I do think it was too trivial of a reason to leave me.”
Thoma snores, another time.
Ayato smiles. “I’m just kidding. I know you won’t. I’ll just have a bounty for your head. Hmph.”
At this, Thoma hums.
“Kidding. Again. Ayaka would kill me first.”
He cuddles against Thoma’s chest. He feels like the warmest corner of home.
Thoma pulls him closer.