Archive of Our Own

Childe’s room was never that big. Giving up the better rooms for his siblings; he’s barely home to really be bothered by it. It has a big enough bed to crash out on and that’s all he needs. The room consists of little knick knacks he kept from his childhood, things given to him by his little brothers and sister, personal notes on all his comrades scattered on his small, worn-down desk, and a pinboard of photos of all his friends above it. Childe has never needed more space than what he has.

That was until he had to share his room with Diluc.

Diluc’s visit to his hometown was very unexpected to Childe. He of course lets him in with open arms, his mother taught him manners after all.

After the awkward hellos Diluc shrugs off his coat and folds it over his arm. “So, what’s got you in Snezhnaya?” Childe asks as he takes Diluc's coat from him to place on the coat rack. He steps in front of Diluc showing him the way to the kitchen, offering him a seat at his dining table. “Some bothersome unresolved legal issues.” Diluc says with annoyance, but Childe knows better than to try and press any further on the matter.

“I had the intention to book a room at a hotel, but unfortunately the hotels I tried checking in to were all booked out.” Childe holds up a packet of tea in one hand and a bottle of one of his brother's juices in the other, silently asking Diluc which he’d prefer. He should’ve known he’d opt for the juice. He hands the juice to Diluc as he lets him carry on with the rest of his explanation as to why he’s here.

Diluc cracks the lid open and takes a long sip before continuing. “I remembered a while back when you were in Mondstadt you stated that I must visit your family whenever I was in Snezhnaya, so I decided to stop by.” He goes on to say that he wouldn’t stay long, that he still needed to find a place to stay while he was here. Childe is looking out the kitchen window, grimacing at how the weather is getting muggy. If there’s one thing to not take lightly in Snezhnaya, it’s the bad weather and how quick it is to get from bad to worse.

Before Childe can really think it over his mouth is already open, spitting out an invitation for Diluc to stay at his house.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here. Besides, the weather is getting bad, and you wouldn’t want to get caught up in that, trust me.” Childe looks back at Diluc to continue and sees him shaking his head, pushing his seat back to stand up. “I wouldn’t want to impose on your family and whatever you have planned.” Diluc politely counters, but now Childe is making it his objective to get him to say yes.

“My mother and siblings are out at my uncle's place at the moment.” He starts pulling out ingredients to start on dinner, something he should’ve done sooner, but better late than never. “I hope they can make it back in time, but there’s a possibility that they’ll end up staying the night over there due to the bad weather.” Childe is trying to reassure Diluc that staying at his home isn’t a bad idea.

Sure, his home isn’t as big and roomy as Diluc's own home, it’s not as well kept and perfectly polished, but it’s very lived in home by three very rambunctious kids and a hard single working mother. A mother who he should’ve ran this by before offering, but he can worry about that later.

With the house empty of siblings and parents Childe uses that to his advantage to further convince Diluc to stay. Diluc wanders over to the kitchen to take a glance out the window above the sink, right behind Childe who is washing his vegetables to start chopping. Diluc continues to observe the sky and forming his own opinion on the weather. Childe acts like this is normal but internally, he’s freaking the fuck out.

Diluc is so close that Childe can feel his breath on the back of his neck. Childe should be used to Diluc’s unpredictable behavior by now, with this not being the first time he’s done something to cause Childe to hold his breath waiting for more. Or waiting for him to stop?

Fuck, Diluc's behavior confuses his own damn emotions and thoughts.

Diluc hums and finally moves away, leaning back towards the counter as he rolls up his sleeves and then folds his arms, “Alright, I’ll stay. Just for the night. I’ll go wash my hands to help out with dinner. Where’s your washroom?” Childe directs him to the washroom, telling him he doesn’t need to help out since he’s his guest. It falls on deaf ears as Diluc finishes drying his hands and walks back to the kitchen, resuming to cut up the rest of the vegetables.

Childe chuckles and picks up the next step of the recipe while he starts talking about nothing in particular, and of course Diluc listens intently and chimes in with his own comments here and there.

After finishing dinner, Childe clears off the table and starts cleaning the dishes. “It’s late enough to know my family won’t be coming back tonight.” Childe says as he watches the snow fall rapidly fill the buckets he left out from some earlier tasks. “I’ll finish up here. You’re more than welcome to a shower if you’re up for one. The water is cruel during this weather.”

Childe starts drying up the plates and setting them into the cabinets. With Diluc more relaxed now that he’s eaten well, he becomes more himself. A Diluc a select few have witnessed. He’s truly just a big softie, with a nice warm protein heavy meal being the quickest ticket to his heart.

Of course Childe would know that. How could he not? From their first encounter, Childe observed and waited for what ticked the redhead in all the right and wrong ways.

“I don’t think the cold water will be an issue for me.” Diluc says while toying around with his vision in between his fingers. Childe knows that Diluc would rather fucking die than let it be known that he has a similar habit as his brother. Diluc would argue he did it first, but Childe knows that would be a pointless case.

Childe opens his mouth but quickly shuts it, letting the comment linger in his mouth. He lets Diluc know that there are extra towels in the closet next to the bathroom. With that, Childe finishes drying the dishes, not without picturing Diluc steaming, wet, anything you can picture beauty as.

Cut a guy some slack, Diluc put the thought in his head in the first place!

Okay so maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought about Diluc in the shower but that doesn’t mean anything. He’d look at anyone suspicious and think they’re stupid to think that that beautiful, scarred, grumpy man wouldn’t look hot as fuck fresh out the shower. Towel around his waist with a smaller one behind his neck.

Childe walks to his room to change into something to sleep in. Usually in this kind of weather he would bundle up with some thick wool pants and a thermal long sleeve, but the thought of Diluc in the shower is leaving him warmer than he expected. He opts for some wool shorts and an overworn, loved shirt that used to belong to his father. A looser fit on Childe but still comfortable.

He leaves his room and heads for the couch. With little to do while he waits for Diluc to finish his shower, Childe tries to distract himself from the thoughts of his guest in the shower. Ultimately, he fails.

He wonders what his natural scent would be like. If he ends up using Childe’s preferred bodywash, leaving him to smell like Childe’s favorite scents. Imagining water droplets falling down his body, the soapy suds all over his body. How the water washing away the suds would reveal his happy trail. Whether or not that trail stops there or continues further down. All these thoughts grow more and more dangerous one after the other. He’s got half a mind to go and press his ear to the door to get a better imagination. Does he talk to himself in the shower? Maybe he hums a song to himself. Unless he–

“I left you the hot water to use for your shower.”

“Shit!” Childe was so into his daydream he didn’t hear Diluc come out of the shower. “No need to sneak up on a guy like that.” Childe chuckles, trying to save face. It’s not like Diluc could have possibly known what he was thinking about.

Childe watches as Diluc rummages through his bag to pull some things out, things he forgot, and put some stuff away. It’s no surprise that Diluc travels light, with his home being bare as bones, it only reflects him as a person. But Childe is determined to get some fun out of him tonight.

“Do you have extra linens so I can fix up the couch?” The couch? Did Diluc think he was going to let him sleep on the couch? He is an excellent host, and even if the couch is quite comfortable, that’s only to him when he’s gone through the fucking ringer and beat down to his soul. Childe of course offers Diluc better options.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch.” He points to the door leading to his room, “You can sleep in my room and I'll take the couch.”

In Childe’s eyes, Diluc tries to one up him on the pleasantries. “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, Childe.”

“Is this your way of saying you wanna share my bed with me?” The tease in Childe’s voice could be heard by anyone if more people were around. Childe knows he’s got Diluc where he wants him, he knows Diluc will go along with his foolery. “And sleep next to Fatui scum? Slim shit chances.” Diluc says while eying Childe from where they stand.

The distance between the two isn’t close, but it’s definitely getting smaller.

“Well then, humor me and choose a game to play while I set up our spare bed for you, Darknight Hero.” Childe draws out the last part, shocking Diluc, clearly unaware he knew about his more unknown title.

Childe sees the look Diluc is giving him, silently asking, wondering how he knew about it. “This Fatui scum likes to keep an eye on his enemy.”

Diluc sits on the couch, slouches a bit to get more comfortable. “Oh? Is that what we are?” Childe makes a throaty noise as confirmation. Diluc, a known Fatui hater. Childe, a ranked Fatui Harbinger. What else could they be if not enemies? The attraction Childe has for him matters very little. The reciprocated affection only tenses the strain on their complicated relationship.

Childe is now standing in front of Diluc, looking down at him. The intimidation and power play Childe is trying to play out is slowly slipping from his grasp with the way Diluc is staring back at him, unfazed. As if Diluc knows he’s not someone to be worried about.

“If that were the case, what am I still doing here? I’m your enemy, yet you practically begged me to stay.”

Childe is trying to hold his heated gaze. He will not let this man best him. “Forgive me, I felt like it would’ve been my ass on the line if Mondstadts owner of the best wine industry died due to stubbornness and sheer idiocy.”

Before Diluc can respond Childe is walking off to start fixing up the inflatable bed. Only way to win against this one is to not give him the opportunity to say anything else.

Childe comes back, moves the coffee table out of the way to make more room for the mattress. He squats down in the open area and rolls out the inflatable, preparing to blow it up with the vacuum it comes with.

He looks back at Diluc, sitting on the couch waiting for him to finish. Childe watches as Diluc’s eyes start darting all over, looking for something to stare at. As if he was caught staring at something he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. Childe chuckles and starts blowing up the bed.

Once it’s all firm and the linens are on, Childe slightly bows and presents the fixed-up bed. Diluc sits on the new blown-up mattress as Childe throws himself onto the couch.

“Well, what game did you pick out?” Childe asks as he plays with the string of his jacket, looking up at the ceiling.

“You were serious about that?” Diluc all but whines at him. As if playing a game with Childe will be the end of his demise. Childe scoffs and looks over to Diluc, “Game nights are a staple in this home, and you will not be leaving until we play at least one.”

Diluc rolls his eyes and sucks in a breath. Childe watches as he ponders what game would take the least amount of effort. Childe sees the moment the lightbulb goes off in Diluc’s head, eyes lit up so mischievously like he’s about to find his way out of playing a game.

No fucking chance.

“We can play twenty-one questions.” Diluc answers with a grin. But that’s where he’s going to eat his own words. Childe is pretty open about his life. Diluc’s questions won’t scare him off like he intends to do. Childe smiles with his teeth and leans on his side to face Diluc. “This will be so much fun, Darknight Hero.”

Childe watches Diluc’s shit eating grin turn into a mean scowl at the use of his nickname. He truly enjoys pushing Diluc’s nerves. Seeing how reactive he gets without much of a physical reaction. Waiting to see what’ll cause him to snap.

He stays silent, letting Diluc know that his silence can be taken as his go at the first question.

“What’s your favorite place to visit?” A simple question that doesn’t carry too much deeper meaning to it. So Diluc is playing it safe, fine by Childe.

“Liyue Harbor is an exceptional city to explore at any time, but stopping by during the Lantern Rite Festival, breathtaking sights every single year.” Childe reminisces about spending the last lantern rite with his good friend Zhongli.

“Good to know you’re not an avid drinker like the rest of Mondstadt during our Windblume Festival.” Diluc comments and leaves it at that. Although the Windblume Festival raises him a handsome amount of mora, Diluc still isn’t a fan, he doesn’t understand how that much mora wouldn’t make someone happy.

Childe realizes he needs to ask a question now, so he clears his throat and tries to think. “Alright, let’s see, what to ask you.” He closes his eyes, hoping it’ll bring a question to the forefront of his mind faster.

“Ah okay I got one. Out of all the Mondstadt kids you ‘don’t look after’ who’s your favorite?”

Childe’s smirking as he asks his question. Everyone always has a favorite and he has no doubt mister I-have-no-time-for-friends has one. Diluc scoffs, folding his arms as if he’s offended at the question. Lying in twenty-one questions necessarily against the rules but frowned upon by most, yet Diluc does it anyway.

“I have no favorites. They all receive the same treatment.” He looks away as he finishes answering his questions. Childe notices that he’s thinking of his next question to ask, wanting to quickly gloss over the current question with his lie of an answer.

Childe doesn’t call him out on his lie. There’s no use in embarrassing him when the answer is so obvious to anyone with a pair of observant eyes.

Diluc’s favorite is Diona. With the way his tone shifts slightly softer when he starts talking to her. How whenever he’s passing out their drinks hers is always the first one. Whenever they play games that require grouping Diluc is always on the little cats' team. While all of the kids' arts and crafts are all on display the first one anyone can notice is Dionas' due to how Diluc sets it up.

Childe has seen how he treats her as his own kid because her biological father can’t be fucked to change his ways and be a better man for Diona. Though Childe knows neither of the two would admit that they’re each other's favorites. The proof is so evident.

Does it matter that Childe knows all of this through “keeping an eye on his enemy?” Not at all. Matter of fact, it’s another reason why he won’t call Diluc out on his lie. No one needs to know what he’s doing in his spare time.

Diluc turns back towards Childe to ask his next question. Childe can’t help the smile on his face, this is the most mundane fun he’s had in a while. “Who’s your worst colleague?” Diluc asks, spicing up the level of depth into his questions. Childe answers quickly and honestly. “Regrator.”

Diluc is about to push for more insight, but Childe spews it all out, consequences be damned.

“He talks way too fucking much and something about his face is so smug looking. I’ve been looking forward to sparing against him for the opportunity to just beat the shit out of him. You think I'm annoying and talk too much? Just wait for the day your poor unfortunate soul meets him.” Childe exhales loudly and goes to get a drink from his kitchen.

When he steps back into the living room and back on the couch, he sees Diluc’s hand covering his mouth. Was he laughing or was he shocked at everything Childe just said? Doesn’t matter to him, it’s already been said, and Childe doesn’t see Diluc as a guy who would gossip about it.

Childe sits towards the arm of the couch, leaning a bit on the armrest with one leg up on the couch and the other planted on the floor. He looks at Diluc and when he says nothing about his answer, he starts to think of his own question to ask.

“What was your worst relationship?” Childe takes the questions up a notch but not too high where Diluc would call it a night and finish the game early.

Childe stares at Diluc, who looks a bit embarrassed with his answer. At least it’ll be a truthful response this time.

“I think dating a lesbian would be my worst relationship.”

Childe’s jaw drops open, trying to stop the smile forming on his face. Diluc dating a lesbian before wasn’t what he was expecting. He was fully banking on something like a beneficial hook up with some other rich boy, or a secret relationship with one of the knights. Childe can’t judge too hard because, thinking back on his exes, dating an Archons son –one of the most terrifying Archons might he add– seems a lot worse than dating a lesbian.

Pushing past the thoughts of his rough times with his ex, Childe has left Diluc hanging on his answer and realizes he should comment on it. “That sex must’ve been fucking terrible!” He doesn’t mean to say it like that but it’s out there now, though he does feel a little bad.

Diluc doesn’t seem that upset with his comment and corrects Childe respectfully. “We never had sex. There was never right timing and when there was, it felt too forced to bother going any farther than some sloppy kisses.” Childe tilts his head to the side, resembling a confused dog.

Of course, Childe asks him more about it, even if technically it’s his turn to answer any question Diluc has. He’ll stop once Diluc mentions anything. So, he presses on. “So, you’ve never been with someone with a pussy before?” Childe fake gasps and raises his eyebrows in a mischievous manner, adding more to his already loaded inappropriate question. “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin, Red.”

Diluc groans, “I’ve told you to not call me that.” He lightly kicks Childe’s leg to knock him out of place, but Childe just laughs. “You didn’t deny it though!” Childe shouts and points at Diluc as if he’s caught him and uncovers the truth.

Diluc ignores him, while Childe is still laughing his ass off thinking how funny it would be to see Diluc fumbling around for his first time. Childe thinks there’s no way he actually dated a lesbian. Diluc is just fucking with him for the fun of it.

“You’re lying. You never dated a lesbian.”

“You remember my friend Jean?” Diluc looks away, just barely wincing as if he knows what’s coming next.

The realization that Diluc is in fact, not lying, Childe’s eyes pop out of his head. He had always assumed that the two were close due to them being childhood friends. Never would he have pictured them with their tongues down each other's throats.

“Holy shit! You actually dated a lesbian.” Childe shouts at Diluc like he isn’t aware of his own past relationship. Diluc faces him again, pointer finger raised, “If we’re being fair, this was before she realized she was a lesbian.” He says, trying to save his own ass. But Childe doubles down. “I thought you were gay!”

Diluc looks like he’s losing years off his life trying to explain it all to Childe, but he does so anyway.

“That was obviously before I figured that out dumbass.” Diluc doesn’t roll his eyes but his tone in his sentence has Childe believing he was holding it back.

Childe can’t control his laughter, deeming this moment one of the top 10 in his memories. When he finally gets his outburst under control, Childe waits with a smile for Diluc to pick up the game with his own question. It’s obvious to Childe that he’s trying to find questions to ask that aren’t too straightforward into his work lifestyle as a Fatui member. Maybe Diluc doesn’t want to spoil the mood, maybe he’s having fun. Childe can only hope.

He doesn’t rush Diluc into asking him a question. He just sits there, silently waiting for his turn to talk. It’s only when Childe is about to ask Diluc if he wants to skip a turn does he finally come up with a question. “If you were to own an exotic animal as a pet, what would you choose?” This kind of question seems to draw Diluc in, as if there is a right and wrong answer. Like this question shows Diluc the kind of person Childe is.

Childe waits a beat to answer, not wanting to seem like this is something he thinks about often. “A bear probably.” Childe doesn’t give Diluc a chance to question his answer before he starts explaining, “We’ve domesticated a whole lot of animals, and I think it’s possible to domesticate a bear. Just needs some extra love and attention.” While he feels proud and confident of his answer, Childe glances at Diluc to see him with a straight face.

“You truly believe you can domesticate a bear to have as a pet?” Diluc asks Childe, as if that’s the most ridiculous answer he’s heard. What’s so wrong with wanting a bear as a companion? They’re big so they can be great with snuggles, they would protect you from dangerous predators, you can even go fishing with them!

Now he’s feeling a little judged. Diluc would probably answer this question with something completely outrageous or something so ordinary. As if he lives in a black in white world.

“Well what would you choose then?” Childe asks in a slightly aggressive tone, getting riled up over a question like this one is ridiculous, Childe knows that. However, he is a bit passionate about his love for the creatures. Diluc’s response would have been more understandable if he answered something like a whale. Which he has thought about before but has realized that wanting a whale as a pet is a fucking fever dream.

How would he even care for them, feed them? Where would he put it? He can’t just hope that he can visit the whale every day at the same spot.

Okay so Childe also loves sea creatures. Fucking sue him.

Diluc responds with a short but predictable answer, “An exotic bird.” Childe doesn’t attempt to ask for an explanation. He exhales through his mouth and starts asking his next question.

Childe sinks further into the couch while he points his finger towards Diluc. “Alright Red, your craziest story that sounds fake that is real, but no one ever believes you, go.”

The sigh that Diluc lets out can mean many things. The eye roll that is added with said sigh only leaves Childe to believe that whatever he is about to say must be so outlandish.

He doesn’t bother to look at Childe while he gives his answer, “My mother was a powerful witch who was told by one of her witch friends that if she ever had a girl, the child would be the downfall of any witch lineage from then on,” the guy has the gall to say all this with his arms crossed and eyes closed, “She crafted a one use spell to make sure she never had a daughter. Then I was born.”

Childe scoffs, “If you’re going to tell me lies at least make them believable.” He hears a chuckle come from Diluc. Maybe he was being serious.. But with something so insane like that there’s no way. Thinking on it though, when has Diluc been known to tell a lie? Meaning his mother really is – was– a witch?

“Relax Ginger, I see the gears in your head burning. Whether you want to believe me is up to you.” Diluc looks at Childe with this soft look, a small hidden smile that could only be noticed if you really knew how to read a person as closed off as Diluc. It all leaves Childe wondering if there’s more left to be said. Definitely not causing his heart to thump a beat faster. Or his skin to be colored a dusty pink. He most definitely doesn’t want him to use his blushed face against him to tease him, so he throws his arm over his eyes, throwing his head back and letting out a puff of air.

“Since you have a lot of battle scars, which are you most proud of?” When Diluc finishes his question, Childe fixes his posture and is practically halfway naked, with him wearing some questionable small shorts and his shirt already off. This is a kind of question Childe answers with no regrets and full pride in his chest.

Childe clears his throat in a ‘which-one-do-you-think-is-my-favorite-scar’ kind of way and thankfully Diluc takes the hint and decides to go along with his request. He watches Diluc scoot closer to him to better examine his body. With his legs also being exposed, showing how most of his skin is marked with a scar in some way, he can really examine almost everywhere. The realization of how close Diluc’s gotten to his bare chest finally hits Childe. His breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches Diluc touch over all his scars, like he's piecing together a very intricate puzzle. Each jigsaw piece telling its own story to show the full picture of who Childe is.

Diluc’s touch lingers on one of his fresher scars on his hip. The feeling of his fingers on the scar is feather light, ticklish than anything, so Childe lets out a ragged breath. His hip bone protrudes just below the scar, pulling at the tissue. He starts to apply more pressure, feeling the difference, the indent, of the scar to his unmarked skin. The pads of his fingers warm on Childe’s cool skin and the pressure on his sensitive scar leaves him hissing at the feeling. As if Diluc was in an enamored trance with Childe’s skin, the unwelcoming noise coming from Childe pulls him back to reality and he removes his hand.

Diluc backs away, giving Childe some much needed breathing room. He finishes looking over his scarred body and lightly taps at a small scar sitting below his belly button. Diluc looks up at Childe with his finger hovering over the scar, silently asking if this was the correct answer. Childe can’t trust his voice to come out smooth and clear, so he shakes his head with a small smile.

With Diluc farther away now waiting for Childe to answer his question correctly, he points to his mirrored scars under his pecs and clears his throat, doing his best to sound confident and not like a man who was affected by the warming touch of the man in front of him. “These were the only two scars I voluntarily asked for. All the scars on my body take away from these, especially since they’re the only ones I put the most care into, so they healed pretty nicely. They’re also over five years old.” Childe thinks that most people wouldn’t get the importance of the only scars he wanted, but that’s okay. He’s more than okay showing them off, shouting from the rooftops that he’s the strongest man, no matter the amount of weird looks he may get, or the meaningless mean words thrown at him.

It was the most meaningful act done to him and that’s all he cares about.

Diluc made his way back to his original spot and asks, “Who did the surgery?” Childe responds with enthusiasm, “The Doctor. In exchange for him doing the surgery for me, I pay him a visit after every Foul Legacy transformation so he can study the effects on my body.” Childe is surprised with the look of disgust on Diluc’s face. Has the man never heard of equivalent exchange? Maybe it was just the mention of his colleague, which in all honesty, he is not many people’s cup of tea, so he’ll just assume it’s about The Doctor and not the service he fulfills.

Now that he answered Diluc’s question, Childe puts his shirt back on and starts to think about his next question.

He thinks back to earlier when Diluc was fiddling around with his vision. Wondering what kind of person Diluc would be if he had a different vision. So, he asks him, “If you weren't given pyro as your vision, what do you think you would've gotten instead?” There’s a mildly shocked expression on Diluc’s face. Like if the question Childe just asked is this taboo topic that isn’t meant to be discussed.

“I’ve never thought of something like that before.” Diluc starts to look as though he's getting lost in a jungle of memories. Thinking back to the moment he got his vision maybe; whatever it could be Childe can’t tell. It’s almost as if Diluc became void of his emotions just then. Childe thinks he’s fucked up, “Let me rephrase–”

“I think it wouldn’t have been anything but pyro,” Diluc interrupts to answer the question, trying to keep whatever awkwardness that was about to come about at bay, “It would’ve happened one or another. It’s who I am. That or I probably would’ve been without a vision.”

“So, would you use a pyro delusion too? Keep the red aesthetic going, Red?”

“I’ve already used one before.” Diluc replies all but matter of factly. Which then leaves Childe speechless. There's so many questions he wants to ask him. He wants to know how it affected his body, how he was mentally after the use of the delusion. So many people can’t simply just use a delusion and have no affects after. Hell, after every use of Childe’s own delusion, it takes a couple of weeks for a decent recovery until he can use it again. Even then, Childe doesn’t listen to Dottore’s orders and will use it for the fuck of it or to get himself out of a tight spot, recovered or not.

He’s brought back out of his thoughts with the sound of Diluc’s laughter. So, he thinks this is funny? “Ask a question before I bombard you with my own, very reasonable, questions.” Childe scowls at him.

Whether Diluc wanted to move things along or he already had his question ready, Childe doesn’t think too hard on how quickly he asked his next question.

“What’s your most prized possession?” The way Diluc smirks while asking makes Childe feel as though they’re going back to more invasive questions. Like he’s trying to learn something incriminating about Childe. Maybe Diluc is just curious on what kind of things Childe prioritizes and deems important, maybe he’s just overthinking the whole thing and it really just is a random question Diluc thought of. That doesn’t dissuade him from fucking around with Diluc first.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Childe leans forward, closing some distance between each other, “My trunk of keepsakes of all the people I've beaten in a fight.” The confusion slowly creeping onto Diluc’s face and his almost missed whispered “I’m sorry?” has Childe holding back a good laugh. He gets up from the couch and signals Diluc to follow him. “It’s in my room and too big to lug out here.” Childe explains.

Once both of them are inside of his room, Childe closes the door, so he’ll have more space to pull out the trunk. He opens his closet doors and drags the black chest out, nudging Diluc to open it. He watches Diluc’s expressions as he pulls back the top and sees this large chest filled more than halfway with different sized objects. “Ch- how many people have you fought?” Diluc asks as he starts rummaging through the chest, picking up random pieces, some even as little as a scrap of cloth.

While shrugging his shoulders, Childe gives Diluc a clueless expression. It’s not like he’s actually kept count of all the people he’s fought, Sure he’s won many, but he’s also lost some and what kind of weirdo keeps track of the amount of fights he’s lost.

He definitely doesn’t keep track of those numbers.

Childe walks to the end of his bed, sitting with his legs crossed, “Count ‘em if you’d like,” he lays back far enough where his head hangs off the ledge, “Who has time to keep track of something like that?”

The sound of the chest closes and Diluc turns around, and if it weren’t for the fact that Childe was already looking up and not straight ahead, he would not be staring at a pair of dark ember eyes.

He dismisses that thought and points his index finger at Diluc and then back to the front of his bed, letting him know he can sit so he’s not awkwardly just standing in front of him. Childe, once again, cannot trust his voice to not crack and this time it’s his own fault.

Now that Childe thinks about it, he hasn’t had the opportunity to fight Diluc. He’s always tried to entice him to a little spar whenever he visits, but the stubborn guy finds a way around the question and weasels his way out of it. To say he’s scared to fight Childe is laughable. He’s more than a worthy and capable opponent, so why does he avoid it every time?

“Okay Red, how about you help me add a new keepsake to that trunk.” Childe says as he pushes himself up slightly while supporting his weight on his elbows.

“Is this your next question? If it is, my answer is going to have to be no.” Diluc says with a quizzical look. That causes Childe to huff out a breath of distaste, now sitting up, resting his elbow on his leg and leaning his head in his hands.

“You afraid to fight me or something?” Childe needs something to egg on Diluc. He’s usually a calm and cool collected guy and under the right circumstances, Diluc’s buttons can be pushed. “Come on! You may get a few deserved– needed –hits in,” he lightly shoves Diluc’s leg with his free hand, and Diluc chuckles at that.

“You’re always too eager to want to fight me. You wanna hit me that bad?” Diluc says humorally.

Something like that. Childe thinks. He’ll learn from past mistakes and keep that to himself though.

Childe starts nudging Diluc’s leg, adding more force into each jab. One of them will have him jabbing back at Childe, he’s sure of it. He keeps at it until one of the hits is met with Diluc’s hand. Childe’s arm gets shoved with more force than Childe was using, which to Childe that’s all the incentive he needs.

It’s not an actual fight but it’s something. An excuse to get to touch Diluc. To feel the weight behind Diluc’s arms pushing him back. The warmth of his body closely next to his own. Childe’s wanted it all for as long as he can remember, but he’ll never know how to properly ask. So, he falls back on heavy punches, even stronger kicks, and a bloody mess. Though, now isn’t one of those times. They aren’t fighting like it’s a means for survival; they’re fighting as if it’s to express their true feelings. Childe hopes that’s how Diluc is reading into it.

How else can he explain the way he ended up seated on top of the stoic man? Childe stares back into Diluc’s lively fiery red eyes, both panting, doing their best to catch their breaths. The feeling of Diluc’s hands falling to each side of Childe’s thighs has him focusing on the feather light pressure of his fingers holding onto him. He doesn’t dare break the eye contact they’re holding, afraid that if he looks away, if he even blinks, whatever this is will dissipate into nothing. That they’ll be back to dancing around each other waiting for the other to take initiative.

With Childe’s hands laying on the man below him, he tries to fix himself? Tries to get himself off of him? He can’t remember and it doesn’t matter when the slightest shift Childe made has the grip on his thighs tighten with a much more vigorous hold. The gaze on Diluc’s face– somewhat trying to remain expressionless but the rosy tint is hard to ignore– has Childe tilting his head to the side, studying him.

Trying to figure this guy out, Childe relaxes his posture, releasing some pressure off his upper back and shoulders and shifting it towards his lower back and ass. That’s when it hits him. He was so intent on keeping his focus on the feeling of Diluc’s hands holding his thighs like this was his life support, he missed the feeling of something hard under his ass.

Childe smirks, lifting himself and leaning forward so their faces are only inches away from each other, ignoring how Diluc tries to keep him seated, “Does fighting me turn you on, Hero?” Childe taunts. “Not the fighting,” with Childe’s guard down, in a matter of seconds, Diluc flips them so he’s now hovering over Childe, taking him by surprise, “Just you.” Diluc says with a smug tone.

They’re back to quietly staring at one another, faces so close, and Childe can feel Diluc’s breath on his skin. Childe’s eyes are quickly darting around his face, taking in every detail, not wanting to miss anything. He wants to be the only one who can point out Diluc in complete darkness by touch alone.

He just can’t keep his eyes off of Diluc’s lips. How Diluc licks his lips and they’re now glistening. How his lips part just barely like he’s struggling to breathe, trying his best to remember what breathing even is.

Childe takes his eyes off his lips to look back into Diluc's eyes and finds him staring at his lips. He lets out a breathy sigh, trying to adjust himself to sit up a bit. Childe’s back collides with that headboard of his bed, realizing he's trapped in by a warm body hovering over him. Before Childe can even get another word in, teasing Diluc, his lips are met with Dilucs’.

He’s kissing Childe like he’s filled with nothing but hunger. As if this was something he had been yearning for and now that he’s got him, he’s not going to let go, and Childe can't help but reciprocate him. Kissing him with the same passion and lust that’s been stuck in the palm of his hands, the tips of his fingers, in the flesh of his lips.

One of Childe’s hands snakes up under the back of Diluc’s shirt just to feel more of his skin, while he uses the other to hold onto the back of his neck, sneaking his fingers into his hair. Childe pushes for more, deepening the kiss, opening his mouth for more of what Diluc wants to give him. He uses the hand that's on Diluc’s back, trying to push Diluc closer to him. The sudden pressure applied in between Childe’s legs by Diluc’s thighs has Childe moaning into his mouth.

Diluc pulls back, letting Childe catch his breath for a second as he pulls on Childe’s shirt, fumbling to get it off. Childe, now shirtless once again, watches as Diluc removes his shirt and tosses it towards the end of the bed.

Diluc’s hands start roaming his body, just like earlier, and it’s still causing Childe heart palpitations. Diluc starts to position Childe’s legs the way he wants them and Childe lets him, feeling his scarred hand push the underside of his thigh up while Diluc’s thigh pushes Childe’s other leg more to the side.

He grabs Diluc by the back of neck, pulling him down, connecting their lips once again, craving more of him.

Childe breathes heavily as Diluc starts to kiss a trail down to his neck, each kiss leaving a warm lingering effect in place of his lips. The hand on Childe’s bare stomach starts moving farther down, until Diluc meets the band of the shorts. He doesn’t dig his hand under the shorts, instead he grabs the inner most part of Childe’s thigh, inching closer to where Childe really wants to be touched.

“Say I can.” It doesn’t sound like a plea, but Diluc is begging Childe for permission to touch him and there’s not one ounce in Childe that can deny Diluc when he says it like that.

“Fuck. Yeah, please.” Childe whines in response.

Any lingering hesitance disappears as Diluc moves his hand, placing it on Childe’s pussy. Childe lets out a breathy moan, gripping onto his wrist, indirectly telling Diluc that he needs more than heavy petting over some fabric. He helps Diluc, guiding his hand back to the waist band of his shorts and lets him take it from there.

Diluc pulls back the band and sinks his hand in, his middle and ring finger gliding through his lips. He continues this for a little, up and down Childe’s folds, all while ravishing him in any spot he has or hasn’t touched with his tongue yet and Childe can’t help but think about the moment Diluc shows some attention to his dick.

He wants to feel the electrifying feeling of someone’s fingers other than his own. The stroke on his dick, the quick rub to the tip, fuck, he wants it bad.

But he really wants to see what this man is packing. The print on his pants alone lets him know that it’s more than enough, he can take it. One of his hands finds the tail end of the bow on the pants and tugs. With both hands, he now pulls at the side of Diluc’s pants, just below his balls.

Childe tries to get a look at it, but with Diluc smothering him, not only is he making it hard for Childe to think, his hair falls to the side, covering the view. Just as when he’s back on Childe’s neck, clearing up some of his view, Diluc slips his fingers inside him, catching him off guard and making him push his head farther into the pillow, moaning loudly.

Childe’s voice gets stuck in his throat for what feels like the millionth time, holding his breath as Diluc pistons his fingers in and out of his wet hole at a steady pace, the loud squelches filling Childe’s ears. “I should've known how loud and messy you’d be,” Diluc slows his movements of fingering Childe as his index and thumb start stroking his dick, “You sound so fucking good.”

Childe lets out a choked sob and does his best to fix his position. He wants Diluc to feel just as good as he feels.

He rubs the palm of his hand over the tip of Diluc’s cock, gathering the precum that’s been dribbling out and attempts to start stroking him, starting at the base all the way back to his tip.

The attempt is there, but it’s real sloppy work. It’s hard to give it your all when someone is making your insides feel as if they’re turning into a pile of mush. But Childe is a fighter, and a determined fighter at that. He starts to keep his focus towards the tip, knowing how many nerve endings are there.

After one particular stroke up, all of Diluc’s movements pause as lets out a low moan. He looks up at Childe and Childe gives him a mischievous smile.

Childe brings his hand closer to his mouth, opens and drops a glob of spit to his hand, returning it back on Diluc’s cock, stroking him more earnestly than before.

The one-up move Childe had on him doesn’t last long, as he starts to feel Diluc’s fingers moving in and out of him again. He tries to keep the grip on his cock, stroking him fast enough that it's stimulating, but his hand starts to move at a broken rhythm once he feels Diluc curl his fingers, hitting a specific spongy bundle of nerves.

Childe’s movements come to a stop, but he doesn’t let go. No one has ever made Childe come by some penetration alone, but Diluc’s got him closer and closer, and he’s no fool to disrupt the rhythm Diluc has. He’s also not stupid enough to hope that he’d get to experience that, hence that hand still holding Diluc’s very hard cock.

Childe’s other hand holds onto Diluc’s wrist, not guiding him but ready to redirect him if he falters, letting his eyes close as he nears the end. “Fuck, that’s really good, keep doing that.” Childe is being reduced to a babbling mess at this point, chasing his orgasm. “You’re so good, please don’t stop.”

Diluc’s cock jumps slightly in Childe’s hand, precum leaking out. He notices as it spills in between his fingers that wrapped around him, “You like being told how good you are, Red?” He asks with a smirk on his face, looking back at Diluc. He sees the blush creeping in on his face as he lowers his head, “You’re so fucking insufferable.”

“Oh, come on! If you wanna hear me tell you how good you are at fingering me, I’d be more than willi-”

Before Childe can finish what he was saying, Diluc cuts him off and bites the side of his neck, causing him to scream out a moan, reaching his peak. He feels the strings that were holding him together finally snap, cumming on Diluc’s fingers, pulsing around them. Childe rides that high and then some, even after it starts creeping more into pain than pleasure, but that line has always been a little blurred to Childe. Not knowing when to stop because all he ever wants is more, taking whatever Diluc wants to give him.

He feels Diluc’s movements slow gradually until he eventually comes to a full stop, pulling his fingers out. He watches as Diluc brings his cum covered fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. Diluc then brings their lips back together, licking into Childe’s mouth, letting him taste himself on his tongue.

The twitch of the cock in his hand brings Childe back to the realization that Diluc hasn’t finished. He goes to spit into his hand again, but Diluc stops him, “If I watch you drop spit in your hand again, I’ll come before you get your hand back on me.”

Childe pouts at that. Of course he wants Diluc to finish too.

As Diluc thumbs Childe’s pouty lip, an idea comes to mind that he decides to share, “Let me blow you then.”

“Just give me a minute or two to gain some feeling back in my legs and you can lay back and let me take care of you.” Childe says as he tries to sit up a bit more, preparing himself. Diluc shoves him back down, confusing him. “I have a better way,” he starts pushing Childe down until he’s practically laying down as he fixes himself into his position. Childe’s mouth is back at the same level as Diluc’s cock, “You can squeeze my thigh if it gets too much, but something tells me you don’t mind it a little rough.” Diluc says as thumbs at his lips again, opening his mouth while pressing his thumb on his tongue.

He places his hands on both of Diluc’s thighs, letting him know he’s more than okay with it. Childe opens his mouth wide, sticking out his tongue some, looking up trying to meet Diluc’s hungry eyes. Once he feels the weight of his cock in his mouth he moans, letting the feeling vibrate.

To Childe’s surprise, Diluc starts off with slow thrusts, picking up his pacing every other thrust. He grips his fingers in Childe’s hair and starts bobbing his head, meeting his thrusts. He twirls his tongue around the tip, making Diluc’s pace quicken even more.

Childe tries to say something, not really anything important, just something to make more vibrations in his mouth, helping out anyway he can.

Diluc’s thrusts are brutal and getting sloppy and hard, cueing Childe that he’s close.

With the weight of his cock in his mouth, the grip of his fingers in his hair, the acknowledgement that Diluc has made him finish and continued to keep him wet and hazy, and now the feeling of Diluc’s cum shooting down his throat while his lips are pressed to the base of his cock and his nose flushed with his trimmed pubes, Childe’s mind floats away.

It’s not that Childe was sleeping, he was still aware of everything going on around him. Like how Diluc made sure he was okay. How he went to the kitchen and got a glass of water for Childe’s hoarse throat. How he stripped him of his now, very soiled underwear and shorts, wiped him down with a wet rag- which leads Childe to believe he got it from his trip to the kitchen- and got him a fresh set of bottoms to wear.

He also must not have noticed when Diluc had the time to clean himself up, now that he’s laid curled up next to him, not that he’s going to argue with it. Even though they both remain topless, the heat that exudes off of Diluc’s body does just enough for Childe as he wraps his around his warm torso and shuts his eyes. The feelings of fingers combing through his hair quickly puts Childe out.

The sound of heavy wood scraping against the floors has Childe rustling from his sleep, looking around groggily. He makes out the shape of someone– Diluc obviously– in the front of his closet.

Oh. The trunk.

He completely forgot to tell Diluc his true prized possession. His brain still too hazy, now from sleep rather than having his soul fucked out of him, he decides he’ll tell him in the morning. Childe waits for the warming body to join him back in bed to then fall back asleep.

The tasteful aromas are what hits Childe first. Not enough to have him open his eyes and start his day but enough that he's not in deep sleep anymore. He pats around the side of his bed, finding the other side cool to the touch and void of any other being.

That definitely doesn’t sour his mood.

He makes no effort to get out of bed just yet. Laying mostly on his stomach, thinking about his eventful night. There was so much more Childe wanted out of Diluc. He curses the haziness of his brain showing way too early, showing how affected he really was by everything. He could’ve taken more, he would’ve, gladly.

The sound of footsteps can be heard throughout his house, growing louder towards his bedroom door, assuming that it’s who he’s currently thinking about, he continues to lay in his bed, hoping he’ll join him back a little longer.

The door cracks open, “Do you plan on getting up any time soon, dear?” Childe shoots up, if he wasn't fully awake before, he is now. The feminine voice calling out to him from the crack of his door– definitely not Diluc– his mother. When did she get back? What time is it? Where the fuck is Diluc?!

The hinges on his bedroom door creak softly as his mother starts stepping further in his room, possibly trying to get an answer from him. “Uh, yeah I-I’m getting up,” He begins to toss his blanket around, looking for his shirt he discarded some point last night, “just looking for my-”

The shirt he had been looking for gets thrown at his face, “I’ve told you you need to bundle up during these unexpected weathers, you’re going to catch a cold.” His mother lectures him. In his defense, he was planning just that. His night just took a turn he wasn’t expecting.

A turn for the better. Childe thinks, but that’s besides the point.

Childe sheepishly laughs knowing that attempting to excuse his actions won’t save him from an even worse scolding, so he fumbles with his shirt trying to find the opening, making sure it's not backwards but at this point it wouldn’t matter. As he finds the front of his shirt and goes to toss it on, he notices from his peripheral how his mother is eyeing him. He tosses his shirt on anyway, standing up, heading to put on his house slippers.

“Make sure to throw on a scarf as well. The storm from last night left the weather,” His mothers eyes jumped from his to the side of his neck, “extra chilly.” She leaves, shutting his door. Childe brings his cold fingers to the juncture of his neck where his mother kept eyeing and winces. He winces not because his fingers are cooler than he was expecting, but because of the sore bruise it feels applying the lightest bit of pressure.

Childe rushes to his desk, frantically looking for his hand-held mirror he keeps stored in the draw. He finds it and points it towards the problem and is met with a dark purple mark, with teeth indentations surrounding it.

His face heats up in embarrassment that his mother saw that before he did. Before he had the chance to conceal it from her so that she’d never find out about it at all actually.

Childe gathers his bearings, deciding that it’s already happened, and his mom chose not to shame him for it. He makes his way to the kitchen where he sees his brothers and sister sitting at the dining table eating breakfast, his mother enjoying a hot cup of coffee while reading her latest book, and Diluc. Diluc wearing an apron, at the stove cooking food. Diluc cooking food for his family.

The feeling of Childe’s heart quickening in its beating leaves him bewildered. He chooses to ignore it for now, telling himself these are lingering effects from the constant use of his delusion. He goes to greet his siblings, ruffling their hair, kisses on the head, and then walks up to the man of the hour.

Keeping his voice low, he starts throwing question after question at Diluc.

“Were you trying to eat me?”

“You weren’t complaining about it last night. Want me to refresh your memory?”

Childe acts as if he’s going to reach for something out of the cabinet so he can smack Diluc’s head a bit.

“What did you say to my mother?”

“That I came to visit, got stuck because of the storm, offered to make her and your siblings some breakfast while I was making some for you, since you weren’t feeling all too well last night.”

Childe wants to ask more but gets interrupted by his younger sister reiterating her gratitude for Diluc's ‘yummy food.’ Diluc hands Childe his plate and he watches as he serves his own. They make their way to the table, now free of anyone under the age of twenty. Childe throws Diluc a compliment on his cooking while scarfing it down. Diluc silently thanks him.

“Are you feeling better,” His mother asks in a tone that doesn’t sound all that concerned, “Diluc here told me you weren’t feeling well last night.” She sips from her mug while never looking away from her book. Childe forces a laugh, “Must’ve been the food I cooked myself.” He chooses not to explain further, hoping the simplicity of his excuse would be enough to drop it.

“Well, Ajax, since you’re done there with your plate, why don’t you start undoing the mattress you set up for your friend last night?” His eyes bounce to Diluc’s, never telling him of his true name and now hearing it for the first time. He watches Diluc’s eyebrow quirk up, mouthing to Childe ‘Ajax?’ in a very questioning way.

Childe knows his mother is still giving him a hard time, which is why she pointed out the still very made bed that does not look slept in but uses it to his advantage and just does as he’s told.

After Childe puts the last piece to the makeshift bed and puts the coffee table back to where it belongs, he plops down on the couch next to his brother. A couple seconds later, Diluc sits right next to him and starts reading some legal documents. Which, oddly enough, reminds Childe about his pinboard.

“You know, that trunk,” Childe whispers the last word, not wanting his siblings to know about it, “That isn’t my most prized possession. I was just messing around with you, it’s my pinboard above my desk.”

Diluc looks at him with a question on his face. “I don’t remember seeing a pinboard.” Diluc states.

“Well, we were a little busy with other things, I doubt looking at my room decor was on your checklist.” Childe says with his eyes, looking at Diluc, hoping he understands what he’s saying without having to say it out loud.

“Speaking of.” Childe gets up, making his way to the wardrobe by the hallway, seeing his mother beating him to it, taking out the camera. Childe has a photo of all his friends on that pinboard and not one of Diluc. Today changes that. Childe grabs the folder out of Diluc’s hand and places it where he was once sitting, tugging at Diluc’s arm to stand up, “I don’t have a picture with you, and I’d like one.”

Thankfully with no protest, Diluc obliges Childe. He has to leave soon anyhow so he can do him this last favor and take a picture with him. They stand by the hallway while Childe’s mother readies the camera. Childe is trying to contain his excitement but he’s finding it hard to do that. He rests his arm on Diluc’s shoulder and slightly faces him. He squints his eyes closed and gives Diluc the biggest smile, showing all his teeth.

Click. Click.

Childe looks at his mom, “Wait no I wasn’t actually ready.” His mom, messing around with the camera tells him, “Doesn’t matter I got a good one, and I took an extra one for your friend to take home.”

Childe can hear her true meaning behind her sentence and just takes the pictures from her hand. He hands the other one to Diluc, then walks towards the couch to hand him his folder, getting ready to shove him out the door before his mother can try and embarrass him anymore.

Diluc puts the folder away, gathering the rest of his belongings and heads to the front door. Childe being the lovely host he is, walks with him to see him out. With Childe’s mother back at the table, placing her decorations back as the center piece, Diluc raises his voice a bit so she can hear him. “Thank you for having me in your lovely home.” Childe’s mother responds with “Come visit us again soon young man!”

Now it’s just Childe and Diluc, once again staring back at one another.

“Until next time, Harbinger.” Diluc says it low enough where only Childe can hear him. The smart remark is on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it, deciding that he’ll keep it to himself until he sees him again. He shuts the front door and heads to his room to add his newest photo with the rest. Grabbing a pin, he finds a suitable placement for the photo and stabs the middle of the top.

Seeing the photo finally developed, and seeing the warmest, softest smile on Diluc’s face as he looks at Childe cheesing at him.

Childe feels a familiar pang in his chest, one like earlier but somehow different. He’ll continue to lie to himself, saying that it's the effects of Foul Legacy. But somewhere deep down, deeper than the effects of the Abyss, Childe knows that this is the effect of one Diluc Ragnvindr.