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Lantern Rite never fails to transform Liyue into something unreal.
Aether had seen the city dressed for celebration before, but tonight felt gentler, warmer, as if the harbor itself had decided to breathe out and relax. Lanterns bobbed above the streets and waterways, glowing gold and peach and soft jade green. Paper cutouts swayed from balconies. Strings of lights traced the edges of rooftops and bridges, reflected in the dark water below until the harbor looked like a sky turned upside down.
Music drifted through everything. Not loud, not demanding. Just present, woven into the air along with the scent of incense, sweet pastries, and grilled street food.
He turned slowly, taking it all in, then glanced sideways at the quiet presence walking beside him.
Xiao moved through the crowd like a shadow given shape. His steps were light, almost soundless, as if the stone beneath his feet might crack if he trusted it too much. He wore his usual attire, dark and sharp against the warm glow of the festival, teal accents catching the lantern light when he turned his head. His golden eyes tracked every movement around them, alert and distant all at once.
Aether smiled faintly. “You can breathe,” he said. “The city’s not going to bite you.”
Xiao blinked, his eyes shifting to the sky. “Perhaps not, but it is loud.”
Aether laughed, warm and unguarded. “That might be the best description of Lantern Rite I’ve ever heard. Really, you should become a poet.”
Another lantern floated past overhead, drifting lazily toward the sea. Aether watched it go, then felt the familiar tug of awareness that meant Xiao was now looking at him.
Xiao rarely stayed in the city longer than necessary, especially during festivals. Too many people. Too much noise. Too many memories layered over one another like sediment. Aether had not expected Xiao to agree when he invited him to attend the festival together, and yet here they were, shoulder to shoulder in the lantern light.
They walked in companionable silence for a while. Aether pointed out decorations, commented on the craftsmanship of a particularly elaborate lantern shaped like a qilin, and laughed when a child darted past them with a glowing paper fish clutched in both hands.
Xiao listened. Always listening.
Eventually, they stopped near a cluster of stalls set up along the harbor’s edge. Steam curled into the night air from metal pots. Glass bottles lined one table, filled with jewel toned liquids that caught the lantern light and fractured it into color.
Aether’s eyes lit up. “Oh. I remember this from last year. Come on.”
Before Xiao could protest, Aether was already stepping closer, peering at the bottles with open curiosity.
The vendor leaned forward eagerly. “Festival nectar. Fresh brewed for Lantern Rite only. Made to keep the cold out and the joy in.”
Aether’s eyes lit up. “That sounds exactly like something I want.”
Xiao leaned closer too, studying the bottles with narrowed focus. “It smells… floral.”
“Lotus and osmanthus,” the vendor said proudly. “Nothing harsh. No bitterness.”
“That sounds pretty good,” Aether said, glancing at Xiao. “Zhongli always raves about how much he loves osmanthus. Have you ever had it?”
Xiao hesitated, then shook his head. “No, but I will try it. Is it safe?”
“It should be. I made it myself,” the vendor responded with a hearty laugh.
Xiao didn’t really get what was so funny about his question, but he and Aether each grabbed a cup anyway.
Aether drank first, expecting syrup, and was surprised by how light it tasted, sweet but not cloying, warmth blooming low in his chest. Xiao followed, slower, eyes flicking to Aether as if gauging his reaction.
“Well?” Aether asked.
Xiao took another sip, then another, quicker this time. “It is… pleasant. I can see why Rex Lapis would enjoy the flavor.”
Aether laughed. “I like it too.”
They lingered longer than planned, talking with the vendor, watching the bottles glow mysterious colors. It was easy to do. The stall was warm, sheltered from the breeze rolling in off the water, and the vendor talked with the ease of someone who loved both his craft and his audience. He refilled cups as soon as they were empty, waved off Aether’s fumbling attempt to pay too quickly, pressed a second bottle into Xiao’s hands with a conspiratorial nod.
Aether found himself leaning against the counter, elbow brushing Xiao’s forearm. Xiao didn’t move away. His fingers gripped the cup more securely instead, knuckles brushing Aether’s skin whenever he lifted it to drink.
By the time they stepped away from the stall, cups empty again, the harbor felt even brighter. The sounds blended together instead of competing. Aether felt pleasantly warm, like he’d been standing too close to a fire for just the right amount of time. He grinned at nothing and didn’t bother stopping himself.
The air was thick with heat and sweetness. Smoke curled upward from grills and incense burners nearby, clinging to their clothes and hair. Everywhere Aether turned, something brushed past him, a sleeve, a laugh, a flicker of gold light drifting overhead.
He slowed without meaning to, caught between watching everything and wanting to touch it.
When he turned back, Xiao had stopped a few steps behind him.
He stood very still, hands loosely at his sides, gaze lifted to a cluster of lanterns drifting overhead. The sharpness Aether was used to seeing in him seemed a bit softened at the edges now, like a blade wrapped in cloth.
Aether stepped back into Xiao’s space without thinking and nudged him lightly with his elbow, just enough to pull him back into motion.
“You’re going to miss the rest of the festival if you stand there all night,” Aether said, already turning and trusting Xiao to follow.
After a brief hesitation, he did.
They moved with the crowd this time, not skirting its edges. People pressed in on all sides, warmth bleeding through layers of fabric. Xiao stayed close, closer than usual, enough that Aether could feel him there without looking. When someone jostled them, Xiao’s hand came up automatically, fingers brushing Aether’s wrist before dropping again.
Aether noticed, even if he didn’t comment on it.
He keeps stopping, pulling Xiao aside to watch a pair of dancers spinning silk ribbons, dragging him to a stall selling sugar sculptures, leaning close to point out a carved adeptus figurine with exaggerated reverence.
“Look,” he says softly, like it’s a secret just for them. “That one kind of looks like you.”
Xiao huffs, but there’s a faint curve to his mouth that wasn’t there before.
Aether talks more as they go, his thoughts spilling out half-formed. Stories about places he’s been, things he’s almost done. He gestures wide, nearly knocking over a display of paper charms, laughs and apologizes in the same breath. Xiao reaches out and steadies the stand before it can topple, fingers quick and precise.
Another lantern floated past, close enough that Aether could see the inked characters on its side, blurred by candlelight and water.
“Do you want to release one?” Aether asked.
Xiao hesitated. “I do not have a wish.”
Aether smiled faintly. “You don’t have to write a wish. Some people just write names. It’s supposed to bring good fortune, apparently.”
“You speak as if you have done this before.”
“I have.”
“With whom?”
Aether laughed. “Lots of people. A lot of my friends live in Liyue, and you know that this isn’t my first Lantern Rite.”
Xiao hummed, thoughtful. His gaze drifted back to the lanterns. After a moment, he said, “I would like to try.”
Aether’s heart kicked a little harder in his chest. “Okay.”
They bought a lantern together, paper thin and warm to the touch. Aether handed Xiao the brush, ink dark and glossy. Xiao stared at the blank surface for a long time.
“What are you going to write?” Aether asked.
“Aether,” Xiao responded.
Aether froze, a noise catching in his throat. “Huh?”
Xiao blinked, as if only just now realizing that he had said that out loud. “You said that people write names. I want to write yours.”
“No-yeah, yeah they do. You can definitely write my name if you want to, Xiao. Thank you.”
Xiao nodded, then carefully wrote on the lantern. They released it together, fingers brushing as they let go. The lantern lifted, joining the others, its glow steady as it drifted away. They watched it until it disappeared from view.
When he turned back to Aether, his eyes were brighter than before, warmth softened into something almost shy. Aether looked away before his brain could short circuit.
Xiao cleared his throat. “Are you feeling alright? Your face is red.”
Aether blinked. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“…Probably just from the lanterns. I feel great.”
Xiao considered this explanation, then nodded as if it made perfect sense. “The lanterns are very red.”
They stared at each other for a long second, then Aether burst out laughing.
“What?” Xiao asked, amused.
Aether laughed harder. “Nothing, nothing. Ignore me. I think those drinks we had earlier are hitting me harder than I thought they would.”
Xiao snorted before he could stop himself. He froze, eyes wide, then pressed his lips together, clearly startled by the sound.
“You laughed,” Aether said, delighted.
Xiao’s ears turned pink. “No I didn’t.”
“Guess they’re hitting you too. Funny, I didn’t think adepti could get drunk.”
“We… aren’t supposed to, but it is possible.”
“Breaking the rules tonight, are we, Xiao?” Aether wiped at the corner of his eyes, still smiling as the laughter ebbed. The warmth in his chest hadn’t faded. If anything, it had spread, loosening something behind his ribs that usually stayed wound tight. “Okay,” he said, already turning again. “Let’s move on. We haven’t even seen half of the harbor yet.” He didn’t wait for an answer.
Xiao followed, as he had been doing all night.
They cut through a narrower street where the lanterns hung lower, their light brushing hair and shoulders as people passed beneath them.
The next stall was smaller than the others, half-hidden behind a rack of embroidered charms. Clay cups sat warming over coals, their contents darker than the festival nectar they’d had earlier. Aether stopped in front of it with a decisive nod, as if answering a question only he could hear.
“This one smells interesting,” he said.
The vendor poured without ceremony. Aether took a sip, blinked at the taste, then laughed quietly to himself. He tipped the cup toward Xiao in offering.
Xiao accepted it.
The drink was richer, heavier on the tongue. It settled way faster. Xiao handed the cup back after only a moment, fingers lingering at the rim until Aether’s hand closed over it. They shared it like that, passing it back and forth while the vendor talked to someone else, until the cup was empty and neither of them quite remembered finishing it.
They drifted away again, steps unhurried.
Everything began to feel softer around the edges. Xiao noticed it in small ways: the way his shoulders didn’t tense when someone brushed past, the way the noise blurred into something almost musical. He noticed, distantly, that he was standing closer to Aether than before, their arms brushing with every step.
Aether leaned in when he spoke now, voice low even when he didn’t need to be heard over the crowd. He pointed things out inches from Xiao’s ear, breath warm, laughter close enough to feel.
When Aether stopped suddenly, Xiao nearly walked into him.
Aether turned with a grin, hands coming up to steady him without hesitation. “Don’t fall,” he teased, fond and amused, like he was talking to himself as much as to Xiao.
Xiao’s hands found Aether’s waist before he could think better of it, and they stayed there for a second too long. When he realized what he was doing, his fingers loosened and jerked away, back to himself. He looked at anything else that he could, expression composed, though Aether could still tell he was blushing.
He pretended not to notice.
They wandered like that for a while longer, time slipping sideways. The festival unfolded around them in overlapping scenes: laughter, music, drifting light. Aether guided them through it all with a light touch and bright confidence, tugging Xiao forward when he slowed, easing him aside when the crowd pressed too tight.
Xiao let himself be moved.
By the time the street opened into a wider plaza, Xiao felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the night air. A group of children tore past them in a blur of color and laughter, one trailing a glowing ribbon, another shrieking with delight as a man lumbered after them pretending very badly to be a monster.
Xiao watched them with open fascination. “They are…playing with demons?” he said, more of an observation than a question.
“And having the best night of their lives,” Aether replied.
Xiao’s gaze lingered on the fake monster. “They do not seem afraid.”
“You don’t have to be either,” Aether said gently. He holds a hand out, impatient and expectant. “Come on. There’s more I want to show you.”
Xiao hesitated only a moment before taking it. The contact grounded him in a way he did not examine too closely. Aether’s grip was warm and sure, fingers threading easily through his own as if they had practiced this before. Xiao followed when Aether pulled him into motion again, steps falling into place without effort.
They cut across the plaza diagonally, Aether weaving between people recklessly. He laughed when they narrowly avoided a collision, spun Xiao out of the way with a careless tug, then pulled him right back in again, hand sliding from fingers to wrist to forearm.
They didn’t stop moving for long. Aether had energy to burn now, carried by a bright, bubbling confidence that made every turn feel like the right one. He pointed out nothing in particular, laughed at jokes he forgot halfway through, leaned into Xiao when he spoke as if proximity was simply part of conversation.
Xiao absorbed it all quietly.
The alcohol crept deeper, subtle but undeniable. He felt it in the looseness of his limbs, the way his joints no longer ached from holding tension too long. He leaned without realizing it, against railings, against Aether when he stopped too suddenly. Each time, Aether adjusted automatically, steadying him with easy familiarity.
At some point, Aether spun in place beneath the lanterns, arms wide, nearly twirling right into a passerby.
“Careful, Aether.” Xiao murmured, fingers catching at the hem of Aether’s tunic.
Aether laughed, unbothered. “I am being careful. Mostly.” He turns to his companion. “Hey, Xiao,” he says suddenly, serious for half a second, gripping both of Xiao’s hands. “You’re having fun, right?”
Xiao doesn’t answer immediately. His thumbs shift where they rest against Aether’s wrists. But he eventually inclines his head into a nod. “I am glad you invited me.”
Aether’s smile returns twice as bright. “Good. Me too.”
Aether picks up his speed, moving rhythmically. They were nearly dancing as Aether tugged Xiao through narrow alleys and open squares, never letting go of one of his hands. Xiao stumbles once on a loose stone; Aether laughs and steadies him, hands firm on his shoulders.
Xiao exhales something like a laugh under his breath, shakes his head. The smirk that follows surprises even him.
When Aether laughs now, it’s unrestrained, head tipping back, shoulders loose. He sways a little when he stands still too long. But when he moves, it’s with purpose, dragging Xiao into motion again, always forward, always somewhere else.
“Just one more place,” Aether says, voice low and earnest, like a promise. “I want to go.”
Xiao nods, grip tightening reflexively around Aether’s hand as the festival lights blur into streaks of color. He doesn’t question it. He just lets himself be pulled along. He felt warm, unguarded, and was smiling way more than he meant to.
Xiao did not remember who suggested going higher.
He only knew that at some point the city had tilted upward around them, streets narrowing into steps worn smooth by centuries of feet. Lanterns thinned out as they climbed, their glow stretching farther apart, shadows pooling between pools of light.
Aether took the first few steps two at a time, buoyant with the conviction that this was an excellent idea. He laughed when his foot landed too far forward and he had to catch himself against the railing, the sound echoing back at him in a way that felt delightful rather than alarming.
Xiao followed more carefully.
Or rather, he meant to. His sense of weight felt altered, like gravity had loosened its hold by a fraction. He adjusted his pace unconsciously, shortening his stride, fingers tightening around Aether’s hand when the ground rose more sharply than expected.
Aether noticed, slowed just enough to keep them together.
They climbed side by side for a few steps, breath fogging faintly in the cooler air. The sounds of the festival dulled below them, laughter and music blending into a distant hum.
Aether glanced over his shoulder, grin crooked. “Still with me?”
Xiao nodded, then misjudged the next step. His foot slipped forward, heel scraping stone. He pitched sideways, balance gone for a split second.
Aether turned and caught him on instinct, arm looping around his waist and pulling him in hard enough that their chests bumped. They collided in a tangle of limbs and laughter, Aether’s breath puffing out against Xiao’s cheek.
Xiao froze, then let out a quiet, startled laugh that seemed to surprise him as much as the stumble. “Do not tell anyone,” Xiao said seriously. “I am normally very coordinated.”
“I won’t say a word,” Aether promised, breathless and smiling. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Xiao nodded once, firm and convinced, then promptly missed the next step as well.
This time Aether was ready. He laughed outright as he steadied him, hands firm at Xiao’s hips, thumbs digging in just enough to anchor him there.
They froze like that, chest to chest, breathing each other in.
Xiao’s laugh faded into something quieter. His hands stayed in Aether’s clothes, knuckles warm through the fabric.
They climbed like that, bodies closer than strictly necessary.
Xiao’s breathing evened out as they went, his steps finding a rhythm again.
Aether kept glancing over, half to make sure Xiao was still there, half because he liked seeing him like this: hair slightly mussed, eyes bright, expression softened.
The rest of the way was taken in fits and starts, laughter erupting whenever one of them slipped or leaned too far. Xiao shook his head more than once, lips pressed together in an attempt at composure that kept failing at the corners.
By the time they reached the top, both of them were breathing hard, shoulders loose, cheeks flushed. The city spread out below them, far away now, lantern light scattered like fallen stars.
Xiao straightened slowly. “I feel,” he said carefully, “very light.”
Aether wiped his eyes, still grinning. “Yeah. Me too.”
The quiet up here felt different.
The sounds of the festival reached them only in fragments, softened by distance, music reduced to a low, drifting pulse. Lantern light climbed the stone with them but thinned as it went, leaving the overlook washed in a gentler glow.
Xiao leaned closer, shoulder knocking lightly into Aether’s, laughing under his breath as if the sound itself pleased him. Close enough that Aether could feel his warmth, could count the uneven rhythm of his breathing without trying. The smell of smoke and sugar clung to him, familiar and grounding and suddenly overwhelming.
Aether swayed slightly when he straightened. Not enough to stumble, just enough that Xiao’s hand came up without thought, sliding along Aether’s sleeve.
The contact sent heat spiraling through Aether’s chest. Xiao did not pull away.
He adjusted instead, shifting closer, weight settling more fully against Aether’s side. His grip tightened by a fraction, as if confirming something real. His thumb brushed once, absent and slow, against Aether’s skin.
Aether’s breath hitched.
Xiao tilted his head, studying him with an intensity that felt unfiltered, unguarded. His eyes tracked Aether’s face like he was mapping it, like he was trying to memorize something before it slipped away.
“You are very warm,” Xiao said quietly, more observation than comment.
Aether laughed, still breathless. “So are you.”
Xiao hummed at that, a sound low in his throat. He leaned in without warning, his forehead bumping lightly against Aether’s. The contact startled them both, close enough to feel eyelashes brush, noses knocking together.
They froze. Neither of them stepped back. Neither of them even bothered to fill the space with words.
Xiao’s hands hovered uncertainly at Aether’s waist, then settled there with quiet determination. He leaned in again, slower this time, guided by something instinctive and unexamined.
Aether felt it all at once. The warmth. The weight. The years of restraint pressing thin. His breath mingled with Xiao’s, lips an inch apart. Close enough that he could feel Xiao hesitate, just barely, as if the world had finally caught up to them.
Then it slipped again.
The space between them vanished in a rush of instinct and warmth. Xiao’s mouth found Aether’s in an uncoordinated, earnest press that left no room for doubt or caution. It was not careful, and it was definitely not planned. It was drunk, honest, and way overdue.
Aether kissed him back without thinking. He made a startled sound, then melted into it, hands sliding up to grip the back of Xiao’s head as if anchoring himself there. The kiss deepened naturally, mouths fitting together with surprising ease, breath catching and tangling.
Xiao’s hands ran over Aether’s body, steadying him while holding the other close. He leaned fully into him, weight warm and real, sighing softly against Aether’s mouth.
They broke apart only when they had to breathe, foreheads pressed together, both of them smiling like fools. Xiao blinked slowly, then leaned in again, kissing him a second time with more confidence, less collision. His fingers tightened around Aether’s hips just enough to make him gasp.
That gasp seemed to delight him. Xiao pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes bright and unfocused in a way Aether had never seen before. The lantern light caught in them, turning into molten gold. His mouth curved, slow and pleased, like he’d discovered something new and was quietly proud of it.
Aether grinned, steady. “Xiao,” he whispered.
Xiao didn’t feel like talking. He just leaned in again instead, brushing their noses together, testing the space like he was learning its shape.
“Well,” Aether said lightly, confidence blooming now that he’d found his footing, “if you’re going to kiss me again, I’m not going to stop you.”
He stole another kiss before Xiao could move, quick and playful, teasing him. It landed crooked at the corner of Xiao’s mouth.
Xiao caught him by the front of his tunic before he could pull away again. His grip was firm, grounding, guiding Aether back into place with deliberate calm. “You are very distracting,” he said, tone mild but eyes anything but.
Aether laughed softly, the sound easing into something quieter as Xiao’s hand slipped behind him and traced slow, winding paths along his back. The height, the lingering warmth, the way the night seemed to hold its breath around them--it all blurred together until standing felt like too much effort.
Aether tipped sideways first, careless and trusting, tugging Xiao down with him. They landed in the grass with a soft rustle, the earth cool beneath their palms, the scent of crushed blades sharp.
Xiao settled beside Aether, then shifted closer, instinctively aligning their bodies.
Above them, stray lanterns drifted past the edge of the overlook, slow and steady, their light slipping through the leaves overhead. Fireworks bloomed distantly, muted and gentle. Neither of them cared about missing out on the festival anymore.
Aether pressed another kiss to Xiao’s mouth, slower this time, lingering just long enough to feel Xiao sigh against him. When he pulled back, he stayed close, brushing his thumb along Xiao’s jaw like it was a habit he’d already formed.
The height, the quiet, the warmth of Xiao so close, it all made him bold. He leaned in again, kissing Xiao once more, unhurried and sure. He pulled him impossibly closer like there was nowhere else he wanted to be. Aether rested his forehead against Xiao’s, a smile lingering on both of their faces.