#diluc my romantically repressed king

[yoimix]

「 fireball whiskey 」

DILUC has made it very clear he has no interest in bar talk. he cares for it as much as a cryo slime would care for water; which is nothing at all, they just make for a very troublesome mix.

however, it’s not one of kaeya’s detestable jokes anymore how his ears perk up at the mention of your name. even in a tavern inhabited by noisy idiots, his entire focus is occupied by your presence. could those drunkards not surround you? diluc clenches the glass he was polishing tighter, nearly enough to break it. they are your teammates, though a pestilent crowd, and you show no signs of discomfort. in fact, diluc seems to be the only one feeling discomfort.

“..luc! diluc!” 

he snaps himself out of his thoughts.

“good heavens, you’re enchanted. even my lyre has not had this effect on you,” the bard comments, face flushed from alcohol.

“and that poor glass is suffering the worst of it,” kaeya teases, a smile smug enough to drive diluc up a wall. 

“(name) is art of a different kind, eh?” venti giggles, lazily strumming the strings of the lyre harp now resting on the counter.

diluc feels flames lick at his cheeks, before clearing his throat.

“your tab, bard, is now at a total of four hundred and fifty thousand mora. i do hope you’ll pay up.”

“u-uh.. oh boy, is that a man trying to make his move on (name)? better play the knight in shining armor now!”

“don’t try to—”

“he’s not wrong,” kaeya interrupts, gaze trained on you shaking your head at a man who’s grasping your hand far too tight for diluc’s liking. “now’s your chance to finally stop staring longingly at miss (name) and—”

“don’t... say a word, kaeya.”

diluc sighs. it’s time to go home.

before he knows it, his legs have carried him over to where you are, hoisting you up with ease while you babble on and on about something he can’t quite hear. this is precisely why he dislikes crowds. he can’t even hear the sound of your sweet voice over the buffoons that inhabit this tavern.

the chill of mondstadt air hits him in full blast, and he holds you closer as your voice finally reaches his ears.

“...and he was like, whoa! i’m not the dandelion knight, i’m the windwheel bard! hahaha, get it? wait, no. i think i said it wrong...”

“(name)? are you alright?”

you blink, staggering to stand straight up. 

“of course, my dear. why wouldn’t you think i am?”

diluc tries to ignore the term of endearment you just threw at him and expected him to catch. you’re friends, for heaven’s sake. friends don’t talk to each other like this, do they?

“you chugged down four shots of fireball whiskey and a sunsettia tequila mix.”

“i did not.”

“i literally saw you do it.”

“ah, busted.”

diluc shakes his head. “do you have to do this? that thing’s terrible for your body.”

“i’ll stop when you promise me one thing right now! no questions, just promise me first.”

“...and what is it that i have to promise?”

you press a finger to your soft lips, a sheepish smile causing boundless flutters in his stomach. “now, i told you. that’s a secret, mr diluc.”

archons, you’re just so unfair. diluc can’t help the flow of fire to his cheeks, like he’s suddenly a teenager discovering puppy love, and he covers the lower half of his face with his palm. you’re bound to notice, right? when he’s putting on an entire fireworks show whether he likes it or not. the little sparks jump from finger to finger, and flames licking at his ears. it’s such an unfamiliar feeling. he usually has his vision under control.

the fire makes you jump, but thankfully not too far from him where can’t feel the calming warmth of your presence.

...thankfully? what has gotten into him?

“oh dear, diluc, are you okay?” you look at him with concerned eyes. once again, diluc has to struggle to keep his flames from going haywire. you stagger towards him, your hands finding his face with much ease as they cup his cheeks.

you giggle. “gosh, you’re so warm. i wish i could spend every winter night with you.”

“i’m... sorry?”

you step even closer, a guttural sound of surprise leaving his throat when you wrap your arms around his waist. he can smell your strawberry lip balm at this proximity.

“promise?”

“...i promise.” diluc barely has any willpower left in him. “now, may i know what it is?”

“kiss me!”

diluc nearly starts coughing, right on your face. barbatos help him because the wind has entirely left his lungs.

“ex-excuse me?” he must have heard you wrong.

“kiss. me.” you pout, looking up at him. “right now!”

“you’re quite demanding.” he clears his throat. “and drunk. i can’t possibly—”

diluc fears fire may stream from his ears the moment you grab his collar and press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. it’s far more than he can take and he pushes you away by the shoulder, an erratic gasp leaving his lips.

“i know you like me!” you huff, “and I’ve been trying so hard to tell you but archons, you’re dense.”

diluc opens and closes his mouth. “but i- mm- i- uh... oh.”

he wants to kiss you so terribly, his hands tremble in fear of what other strange desires you may unleash. this can’t be right. everything feels foreign, his senses gone awry and his mind the last defender of his heart.

“so...” you quieten. “did i perhaps get it wrong? i- i’m so sor—“

diluc cups your face gently but the force with which he connects your lips to his is anything but gentle. he does ease into his actions a millisecond after and the two of you grow closer to each other till the heat latches onto you too.

you pull away with a smile as soft as the moon above, your thumb idly brushing over his cheekbone. diluc nearly leans into your lips again but whatever self control he has left keeps him in line. 

“...hush! they’re gonna hear us!”

diluc’s attention snaps to bushes near the door of angel’s share, a harsh glare soon following. a certain bard, cavalry captain and... is that klee and amber? diluc does not like crowds.

but with you, and all that you bring, resting so peacefully against his chest, who is he to take notice?