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The night Kaeya burned that box, something in him turned to ash, too. He thinks that must be why he was able to face Diluc so easily when he came back to Mondstadt. In the past, he might have faltered, but he knows better now.
Whenever he feels himself growing weak, thinking about things that no longer exist, he reminds himself that he doesn’t deserve it. It’s strange, maybe, and even if it wasn’t, someone like Kaeya doesn’t deserve it anymore.
It isn’t the same alone.
It’s fine. Like always, Kaeya adapts. He overcomes. He’s quick, like that—always has been, always will be—and if he tries hard enough, he doesn’t even remember any of it. Those things in that box never existed, just like so many other things didn’t exist.
The tricky thing with alcohol, as Kaeya’s come to know so intimately, is that it does the thinking after a few glasses of wine. More often than not, it’s him going home with someone when he knows he doesn’t entirely want to, and right now he wishes it was that. That, at least, feels good for a while.
Maybe he could, maybe that would take his mind off things—
Kaeya grimaces, a near-physical pain in his chest. The last time he tried that, it didn’t end so well, even by his standards. But if it works, well—anything is better than this hazy, lonely feeling that he can’t shake.
He sets his sights on a foreign merchant. He’s caught glimpses of the man around the city the past few days, enough that he thought he was handsome. Right now the man isn’t much of anything to Kaeya, but he supposes no one is. He slides into the barstool beside the man anyway.
“Enjoying Mondstadt’s esteemed wine collection?”
The man’s rosy cheeks go a tad darker. “Uh—yes, I’ve heard about this country’s alcohol before. Everyone knows it.”
“That they do.” Kaeya tips his glass toward the man. “What brings you to Mondstadt? Aside from the delicacies, that is.”
“Business. I work for a man in Liyue who buys properties throughout several nations to sell for profit. Overseeing a renovation, but it’s a good excuse to see the country.”
Kaeya hums. “Interesting. Well, I hope that your work goes smoothly. As for your sightseeing, I’m sure it will be delightful. Mondstadt is known for its wonders.”
His drink burns his throat. It doesn’t taste good anymore, it’s too much. But the man finally seems to be coming out of his tired stupor to realize why Kaeya’s here, so he drinks more.
“I’m staying at the property, it’s the most beautiful manor I’ve seen. Perhaps you’d like to see it?”
Finally. Kaeya wishes the man would just take him somewhere already, they both know what they’re doing.
“My my, you should have said so sooner. I do love a good view.” He slides his glass forward, toward the bartender’s side. “How far is this beautiful manor?”
“Just outside of the city, near Springvale. It’s some old wine seller’s home.”
Kaeya feels his stomach churn. The man stands, but he can’t move. It’s fine. He can go, or he can tell the man to leave him alone, but he has to say something, anything. He can’t run and hide.
“I—“ Kaeya sucks in a breath. He can’t look at the man right now, it makes him feel cold. “I can’t—“
The man says something and touches his arm, but Kaeya’s already reeling. He wants to go home. He wants to be warm and have his blanket and be held. He doesn’t want to be here anymore, he doesn’t want to do this.
There is no blanket, some vicious part of his mind reminds him. There isn’t anyone to hold you, now get up.
It hurts somewhere deep. He wraps his arms around himself and takes a deep breath. He tries to start counting. Once he gets to ten, he has to get up. He can’t do this.
He makes it to seven before something startles him enough to make him stop. It isn’t a hit or fisting grip like he expected, but it’s cold enough to shock him. He jolts back, almost out of his chair, and whips his head up.
There’s a piece of ice on his leg, beginning to melt through his pants, and a cold drop of water from where it hit his face. Hideously, Kaeya feels his lip quiver.
“I thought that would work better than grabbing you.”
Kaeya holds himself tighter and looks up a bit more. It’s Diluc. Confused, he looks to his side, only to find the man gone. Why is he gone, and why is Diluc standing in front of him now? Did the man leave?
“Can you hear me, Sir Kaeya?”
His tone is matter-of-fact. If Kaeya didn’t know him, he wouldn’t even think it was a question. He tries to force himself to respond, to make this situation somehow better and save himself from the embarrassment.
“Okay,” Diluc says, sighing. “Give me a few moments.”
Kaeya’s head snaps down and he stares at his hands. Of course Diluc is mad with him. Kaeya, like always, did something to ruin it. And he wasn’t even trying this time! Usually he does it on purpose, but he didn’t even mean to!
“Let’s go, Captain.”
Kaeya picks his head up. Diluc is standing beside him now, no longer wearing his apron. He doesn’t want to go anymore. This is worse. He doesn’t want to go home anymore, it won’t fix anything.
He bites his lip and gets to his feet. As much as he doesn’t want to go home, he doesn’t want to argue more. He can feel the itch of tears in his throat and Diluc’s comments will only make it worse.
Diluc leads him through the cobblestone streets. It’s undoubtedly the way towards Kaeya’s apartment, though Diluc takes a few side streets that he wouldn’t have.
Along the way, between the walking and the bright light of the lampposts, Kaeya feels himself start to come back. It’s jarring to feel it again after so long. It almost makes him want to cry, but that’s foolish.
“Master Diluc, I apologize for the inconvenience,” he says as they turn onto his street. “I had a bit too much to drink and got a bit ahead of myself. You know what they say, drunk—“
“Don’t,” Diluc says. It’s not quite a snap, but enough to silence him. “I don’t want to hear about it when you’re like this.”
“Like what?” Kaeya scoffs. “This is hardly the first time you have seen me drunk. I think you’ve seen me drunk more than sober, actually—“
Diluc stops walking so abruptly Kaeya almost runs into him. He almost yells, but he realizes they’re at his doorstep.
“Oh. Thank you for escorting me, Master Diluc, but I assure you I am fine.”
Kaeya’s hands are shaky as he turns the lock. There’s a fine bottle of wine inside waiting to fix this for him, he can practically taste it now. He gives a wave behind him as he enters, shutting the door with his legs already heading toward the liquor cabinet—
The door pops back open before it even shuts. Kaeya’s face scrunches.
“Master Diluc, it’s rude to enter someone’s home without asking.”
Diluc looks rather unimpressed. He takes in the sight of the apartment and Kaeya feels a bit judged. Instead of commenting on the state of it, Diluc heads toward the kitchen.
Kaeya hurries to shut the door before he follows after the red haired man. “Excuse you! What do you think you’re doing, barging in like this!”
Diluc ignores him and opens the cabinets anyway. He keeps going until he finds the glasses, where he takes the only three out and frowns. “Is this it?”
“I’m only one man,” Kaeya huffs. “Why would I need more than that?”
“No,” Diluc says, opening another cabinet. “I mean, where’s your other one—“
As Diluc keeps looking, Kaeya takes a step back. “My other what?”
His former brother sighs, and while he stops looking, he doesn’t turn around to face him. “You know what I mean, Kaeya.”
The use of his name without a title hits him like an arrow to the chest. It’s almost worse than the implications.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kaeya says, already starting to close the cabinets. “Three glasses is enough for one person. I don’t have guests, I have no need for more.”
“Kaeya, where is it?”
He stills. He stares at the sink and tries to pretend Diluc—Diluc—isn’t standing right beside him, asking things he shouldn’t. It’s cruel, even for him, and he wants to tell him that.
“I don’t do that, anymore,” he says instead. “I never did that. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What?” Diluc stands there, confused, before he continues on. “It helped you. Even if—even if you don’t, I know you still have it. You don’t get rid of things easily.”
Kaeya frowns. It’s true, he can barely make himself let go of things, even when he knows he has no use for it. It makes this feel worse.
“I don’t, okay?” he says. “I don’t do that anymore. It’s stupid, and I should never have done it in the first place. It’s weak for a Calvary Captain to do such a thing.”
Diluc seems stunned as he reaches out. Kaeya, selfishly, allows him to hold onto his arm. “Don’t say that, Kaeya. That’s not true.”
“It is, and you know it. It’s foolish and strange. You thought so, too, in the beginning.”
Diluc squeezes tighter. “I didn’t understand then!”
“Well, you do now.”
Diluc turns Kaeya to face him, but he won’t look up. Diluc looks around, like maybe an answer will present itself, before looking back. “Would you say that if someone else did it? Me, or Jean, or Lisa?”
“No,” he says, meeting Diluc’s eyes. “It’s different! It wouldn’t be weird if they did it.”
Diluc’s eyes are wide, almost like he’s panicked. Kaeya knows this can’t be right, but there’s no other answer. Maybe he’s tired of this and wants it to be over?
“Why is it different for them?” Diluc presses, his eyes flitting over his face. “Why isn’t it different for you?”
“Because I don’t deserve it!” Kaeya tugs his arm free and holds it to his chest. It doesn’t make him feel much better. “I don’t deserve it and—and it doesn’t feel good anymore! I needed to let go, for once.”
Diluc’s face goes through several expressions before he settles on what Kaeya thinks is the worst form of pity. “Kae, why wouldn’t you deserve it? It’s not—it’s not something that you have to earn.”
“No, but it—“ Kaeya huffs. “Why are we talking about this? You come into my home to what, ask about past times? Taunt me?”
“Taunt?” Diluc’s voice catches. Kaeya almost feels bad, if he didn’t believe it might be true. “I was worried, Kaeya! You were trying to go home with that man when we both know you shouldn’t be.”
Kaeya scoffs and makes his way toward the living room, away from Diluc. “‘When I shouldn’t be?’ What do you know about what I should do, Master Diluc? Are my partners a betrayal to Mond now, too?”
Diluc seems to be glued to where he’s standing, but the anger doesn’t seem to stop. “You’re small, Kaeya! What business do you have going anywhere but home? You shouldn’t even be drinking!”
“Oh, just shut it!”
Kaeya stands in the middle of his living room, his fists clenched at his side. He stares down at a letter of orders from Jean on his side table and tries to remind himself how to think.
“You can go home, Master Diluc,” he says, trying his best for an even tone. “You’ve done your duty. I’m home, I’m safe, there’s nothing more to do.”
The silence before Diluc speaks is almost a physical presence. “But it helped. It helped you, Kaeya. Clearly, you still need it.”
Kaeya’s lip wobbles and he turns his head to the side, out of Diluc’s view. “Well, it wouldn’t matter, anyway. There’s no point anymore. Besides, those things are long gone, I made sure of that.”
Diluc can’t tempt him. There’s no temptation, anymore. He knows if he lets himself crumble there’s nothing left for him, only himself. How could Diluc be so cruel to try and convince him, after he’s been so good?
“You got rid of them to, what, punish yourself?” Diluc questions. He’s stepping closer and it makes Kaeya’s trembling lip worse. “It made you happy, Kaeya. Is this because of what happened?”
He sucks in a breath. He’s scared if he tries to speak, all that will come is a wail. He wants his blanket. He wants his bear. He wants to go home.
“I didn’t . . .” He’s closer, now. “There’s still the bear, isn’t there? If you tell me where he is, I can get him for you. Is he on your bed?”
Kaeya can feel the sob break past his lips. He squeezes his arms around himself—like a hug, almost, but not quite—and feels his legs tremble. He inhales, tries to say something, and instead cries.
He falls to his knees, hands going to his head as he pulls at his hair. The pain pulls at him, sparking some distraction but not enough. Kaeya wails, hitting his hands into the side of his head, desperate for something. He feels so bad and he wants it to stop.
Someone’s grabbing him—Diluc, Diluc’s here—and his hands are held between their bodies as Diluc pulls him close. Kaeya twists, tries to get free, but Diluc’s stronger than he is. He settles for crying into his shoulder.
“Kaeya, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt yourself—“
Kaeya nearly chokes as he tries to catch his breath. “I killed him!” he cries, heart aching. “He was all I had left and I killed him!”
“Killed who? Who did you—“ Diluc’s grip loosens before it’s back again. “Do you mean your bear?”
Kaeya wails louder. He doesn’t like this at all, he wants it to stop and never happen again. He’s bad, bad, bad, bad.
“He was my friend and I killed him!” he wails. “He made me feel bad, so I put him in a box with all the stuff and—and I burned him!”
“Kae—“
“I wasn’t s’pposed to need him! I’s better and didn’t need him so I-I got rid of him, but now he’s gone and I need him!” Kaeya starts twisting his body again, he needs to feel something. His skin is itchy and he needs to feel something. “Bad, bad, bad, bad. I tried, I was good, but I’m not good at bein’ good!”
“Kaeya—“
“I was s’pposed to stop this! I hate it, I hate it! I want to stop, I wanna go home, I don’t wanna do this anymore! Make it stop, ‘Luc, I don’t feel good!”
Diluc doesn’t say anything and Kaeya wishes he would. If he just says something, anything. He doesn’t care if it’s mean. Diluc can be as mean as he wants, he can hit him even, if he just does something—
A hand rests on the back of Kaeya’s head to pull him close. It reminds him of his father—Crepus, not his other, he was never quite like that—and it makes his hands curl between them to hold onto him. A small, too young part of him is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for his other father to somehow take his place and strike Kaeya. An older, but still too young, expects Diluc to be angry, to tell him how stupid he is and that this is the reason he left Kaeya.
Most of him, though, is focused on the fact that Diluc is holding him. It’s the first time in nearly six years that Diluc has done more than a cursory touch at Angel’s Share. It makes some frozen part of Kaeya start to thaw again.
“I should have paid more attention to you,” Diluc murmurs. “I should have been here. I didn’t realize how much this weighed on you.”
“‘S okay,” Kaeya sniffles. A small part of him cries out, a wounded child, but that part needs to be quiet anyway. “I was bad. Deserved it. Told—told too much, wrong time. ‘S okay. Not mad.”
Diluc’s hand grips his hair, just a bit, as he pulls Kaeya impossibly closer. “No, no that—that isn’t true. I was wrong. I never should have hurt you. You didn’t deserve that.”
Kaeya shakes his head, the motion ruffling the collar of the other’s shirt and smearing his tears. “No! Wrong, I did, I did, bad boys have to learn and I-I did, I know now.”
“Know what?”
“I can be good, but ‘s not like most people. Different. But I try, promise, I’ll be good.”
“Kaeya, you’re already good,” Diluc assures him. “You’re—you’re not bad. You never were.”
He pulls back, working free of Diluc’s grip so he can look at the wall. It helps calm him, for a second. “No, bad, ‘m not . . . I’m not supposed to do this. Bad.”
His head hurts as he tries to stop this. He reaches up to hit himself, to make it better, to bring the better him back, and Diluc holds him still again.
“This isn’t bad,” he says, earnest. “It’s not bad, Kaeya. Doesn’t it make you feel better?”
“Not anymore,” he sniffles, avoiding his eyes. “Sad. Makes me feel w-worse. Like before. But now I don’t even have papa . . .” His chest aches. “Papa mad. He—he hates when I do this. Not now, Kaeya ‘n quiet, Kaeya ‘n stupid boy.”
“Well, he isn’t here to say that, is he?” Diluc points out. His hand rubs up and down Kaeya’s back. “I’m here, and I think it’s fine.”
“Can’t,” Kaeya sniffs. “You’ll leave and—and I’ll . . . I don’t like being alone when I’m small.”
“I won’t leave you, not like this.”
“You leave when I’m better,” Kaeya says. He shakes his head against Diluc’s shoulder. “Worse. It’s mean, ‘Luc, you leave and—and I remember what it feels like! Leave now, leave! I don’t wanna do this! You’re gonna leave me again!”
“I’m not leaving.” Diluc’s hand rests on the crown of Kaeya’s head. “I’m not leaving you, alright? I might leave for the Winery, but I won’t leave you.”
Kaeya knows it isn’t true. Everyone leaves. Everyone will leave, they have to, no one can stay for someone like Kaeya. Not with what he’ll do. Somehow, Diluc seems to think he’s the exception.
“I’m sure you’re tired,” Diluc says. “Why don’t we sit on the couch?”
He knows better, but he sniffs and follows DIluc’s movements anyway. They end up on the couch, Kaeya curled into Diluc’s side with a blanket tucked under his chin. It reminds him of when he first came to the Winery.
He wishes this could last forever. If he could come home to this—Diluc, loving him—it would be okay. He can’t imagine anyone else seeing him this way.
“If . . . if you had someone with you, would you still do this?”
Kaeya’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Trick.”
“It’s not a trick, Kae.”
He decides there’s no harm in answering. Diluc will leave, eventually, he can say what he wants. Some bigger part of him tries to argue, but Kaeya is small, and he doesn’t care for what that part has to say right now, it hurts his head.
“Mhm.” He rubs his face into the fleece of the blanket. “‘S hard. Tried alone, but it feels bad ‘n I hurt myself. When ‘m big I drink, but makes me feel weird. ‘S better to be alone, or I find person.”
Kaeya curls into himself, Diluc’s warmth a forethought. “Don’t like. Feels bad. Big—big thoughts think ‘s good idea, but always feels icky. …Glad you took me home ‘stead.”
Diluc pulls him a little closer, positioning Kaeya to lay down more against his chest. Diluc is stiff and when Kaeya looks up, his brother is paler than usual.
“Sorry,” he whispers, going to pull away. “You say—you say not to talk ‘bout it, forgot. Sorry, Diluc.”
His head starts to feel weird, trying to push bigger words out, to call him Master Diluc, but he is so small and he’s so tired.
“No, no, it’s okay, I was just thinking,” Diluc says, pulling him back. “Don’t apologize.”
Kaeya slowly relaxes again. Almost as if it’s a reward, Diluc starts to card his hands through his hair like he used to. Kaeya could cry again.
“Come to me if you feel like this,” his brother says bluntly. “Or Jean or whoever you might go to just—just not someone you don’t know, okay? I don’t mind caring for you.”
“‘S okay.”
“I mean it, Kaeya.” Diluc rests a hand on his cheek. “Even if I am busy or I get upset at first, I know . . . I know I would rather know you’re safe. I like knowing you are safe and cared for.”
Kaeya can feel himself fall once Diluc’s hand goes back to his hair. He’s tumbled off the cliff and past the point of return, there’s no voice telling him what to do. All he knows is Diluc is here, Diluc loves him, Diluc wants him.
“Can . . . can we be brothers, again?” he asks. His voice is so small it stumbles. It feels familiar. “Can—can be just when small, ‘s okay.”
Kaeya thinks he might have messed up, but Diluc’s hand pauses just barely before he tucks a strand of hair behind Kaeya’s ear. “Of course, Kae. We’re always brothers.”
Kaeya feels his body go warm with happiness. Childishly, he smiles and hides his face into Diluc’s chest. Brothers. Brothers again, even when he’s not small. Diluc must mean it if he will be his brother then, too.
Kaeya thinks that, maybe, this is the happiest he’s ever been in years. He hopes it stays like this for good.