Work Text:
The ceiling spun, his vision blurring as the person above him looked down.
Oh, Archons, help. Someone help him. He was drunk right now and he couldn’t handle this.
“Fuck,” Ororon slurred, straddling Ifa’s hips and inebriated at hell. “Fuck” was right, Ifa really wanted to fuck him. He really, really, really wanted to fuck him.
“Can I?” Ifa asked.
“Wha-?” Ororon breathed, “Whadyou say?” Ifa smacked Ororon’s thighs, his vision almost blacking out and his mind hazy as he did. The slap echoed nicely, Ifa cracking a smile.
“Can I fuck you?” He emphasized it, laughing as he asked. Ororon giggled.
“Yeh. Do it.”
Before diving into the perfect hot mess Ifa would become, there are a few important things to know.
Natlan, for the most part, had a relatively temperate climate. Despite the average temperature being higher than anywhere else, the relatively low moisture and humidity made it easier to live in compared to somewhere like Sumeru or Liyue. The vast patches of vegetation helped regulate the heat, making it a pretty ideal place to vacation, all things considered.
However, for three or four weeks of the year, when summer hits its peak across all of Teyvat and the sun is at its strongest, Natlan changes from its outdoorsy heaven and turns into the ass-crack from hell. It’s Natlan’s wettest season but because of the sun exposure, all the water evaporates and hangs in the air, jacking Natlan’s typical humidity up three-fold. The moisture combined with the increased temperatures make the typical dry-heat of Natlan so unbearably disgusting that no one wants to leave their homes. It becomes so disgusting that the Collective of Plenty, famous for their year-round training programs, has a mandated break because of the number of people who pass out from heatstroke. At some point, it became a national holiday where most people could expect to kick back, relax, and beat the heat.
Naturally, since everyone stayed home, merchants from foreign nations figured out that they either needed to finish business before the hot weeks and leave or time their arrival for after it. That also meant any produce merchants who planned on leaving before the hot weeks needed to get rid of their stocks beforehand. So, at least a week before the predicted start, they would hold big blow-out sales because if they didn’t sell it all, everything would rot.
Ifa found himself standing in front of one of these sales. He’d finished running errands for the day and decided to have a look at the merchant stalls to kill time, only to end up buying every novelty vegetable and fruit he could find because he knew someone who would absolutely go nuts over them.
Jueyun chili, henna berry, some weird gel fruit in the shape of a bell, even a bulbous fruit from Inazuma he’d never seen before, he had in his hand a decent-sized parcel full of specialty goods from every nation.
“Never seen produce from Mondstadt before?” The seller asked. Ifa shook his head.
“I haven’t.” He picked up a purple berry, admiring the weird shape of it.
“Wolfhook. Bitter bastards on their own, but you pair them with valberry and the sweetness’ll take the edge of the wolfhook. They make for a good jam if you’re the type to eat bread.”
Ifa looked at the groceries in his hand before glancing back at the stall. He shouldn’t, he grabbed too much already.
“Buy half a bucket of wolfhook and I’ll throw in a jar of valberries. Buy half-buckets of both and I’ll put in a box of philanemo mushrooms.” The seller winked, “Philanemo mushrooms are good if you’re having trouble in bed.” Ifa winced in response.
“Uh, I’m good.” He glanced at the wolfhook in his hand, “Can I get a jar of the wolfhook and a jar of valberries?”
“Sure. Make sure you keep them in a cool place and eat them within a week, or else they’ll start fermenting in alcohol.”
Ifa laughed, “You got it.” There was no way he would forget about it, not after Ororon chewed his ear out about being a little late on a vegetable delivery.
The seller stared at him, “I’m serious. It’ll taste good, but it hits you like a Mitachurl. I’ve seen Master Diluc keel over from drinking the littlest bit.” Master Diluc? He was the owner of Dawn Winery, wasn’t he? He fell over after drinking some of it?
…Ah, what could be the harm?
Ifa nodded, still somewhat brushing the warning off, “Serious. I won’t forget to finish everything.”
“Good. Your total is 2000 Mora.”
“Alright.” The coins dropped into the seller’s hand, Ifa taking the jars, among the rest of the cartons and bags, back home.
And he definitely wouldn’t forget to finish the wolfhook and valberry’s.
At least, he wished he could say that.
Shit hit the fan as the hottest weeks of the year rolled around and Saurians left and right were dropping like flies from overheating and the excess phlogiston. The entire debacle had Ifa making home visits whenever he could because, well, having the Nightsoul blessing and an Anemo vision came in handy sometimes. Every other day was him dipping out of the clinic to make a home visit because people couldn’t move the big Saurians and the little ones couldn’t make the trip. He spent more time out of the house sweltering in the heat, and burning some calories, than staying home as a designated holiday would’ve suggested.
He was coming home from one of the home visits in the Tezcatepetonco Range near the Children of Echoes when he opened the door and got a whiff of the brew that cooked inside his house.
“You gotta be kidding! Get outta here, bro!” Cacucu shrieked, flying away from the entrance. Ifa covered his nose. “Bad” didn’t even begin to describe it, the smell was so heinous he thought something threw up, shat, then died. A fishy smell assaulted his nose and he didn’t even know he bought fish.
He went to the storage and opened up the lid, trying to see what had gone bad. Thankfully, the veggies Ororon had brought him last week were still good, but it was the stuff at the back that had gone bad.
What was the stuff at the back?
Store them properly and finish them within a week.
Fuck. Ifa wanted to kick himself. How could he have forgotten? He would’ve been so happy to try them out.
“Ifa? You good, bro?”
Ifa looked at the front door, Ororon holding a crate of vegetables he was dropping off. The stress of work compiled with the absolute devastation of forgetting to give Ororon his gifts crushed Ifa, his voice cracking just a little bit.
“Help.”
“Thankfully, only a few of the things had gone bad,” Ororon said, washing his hands. They cleaned out the entire storage, quarantining the source of the smell and rot.
“Thanks for helping, you really saved me,” Ifa said
Ororon nodded, “Don’t worry about it, you help me out a lot too. Friends help each other, right?” Ifa winced.
“Yeah. We’re friends who help each other.” Right, friends. They were friends. Just friends. Best pals, even. Nothing more to it. Just some bros helping each other out. Definitely didn’t wish there was anything more to it. Nothing some good ol’ copium couldn’t solve. Everything was totally fine.
Totally fine . He was fine. Totally
Fuck.
“Based on a book I read, I heard lumidouce bells don’t go bad that quickly. They’re supposed to last a few months, at least,” Ororon explained, sifting through the pitiful pile that was once said lumidouce bells and ignoring the internal conflict Ifa had with himself. Maybe for the better because this shit stinked-stank-stunk of sewage and other unmentionables.
Ifa looked at the mound of sludge.
“Then why did it go bad?” He asked.
“The heat?” Ororona dried his hands, “Everything else was sealed off from the bells, so they should be ok to consume, just maybe not raw.” He held up the jars and containers to show Ifa. Though the chilies, fruit, and wolfhook had all turned into a mash, they didn’t look rotten, rather taking on a deeper color he hadn’t seen before.
“Should we give them a sniff?” Ifa asked. Ororon shrugged.
“If you want to.”
“Do you?”
“Sure.”
They opened the jars one by one, giving them a gentle whiff. The Jueyun chills had become a little sharp, though the spice smell wasn’t nearly as stringent as a fresh one. The sweet smell of henna berries and the amakumo fruit had concentrated, with a little bit of a kick at the end in the henna berries.
As for the wolfhook and valberries, Ororon and Ifa opened their jars just to close them almost immediately.
Ifa huffed, taking a deep breath to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he could.
It’ll hit you like a Mitachurl.
Maybe the seller was right, he thought he would’ve gotten drunk just off the fumes.
“This…this is alcohol, right?” Ororon asked. Ifa nodded.
“Yeah, bro. I thought the guy who sold them to me was joking.”
“He told you not to let it sit?”
“Said the alcohol would really mess with you. I thought he was pulling my leg or something.”
Ororon looked at the jars in their hands, “What are you going to do with it?”
Ifa shrugged, “Not sure.” He looked around at the rest of the produce that laid around them.
It was the middle of summer. If they didn’t put everything back, it would all go bad, not just the bells.
“Let’s clean up first,” Ororon said. Ifa agreed, that was a good idea.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
They finished putting everything away except the wolfhook and valberries, the jars of fruit sitting on the countertop as the two men stared at it and contemplated what to do with them. Now that the initial shock had worn off, morbid curiosity took over.
Was it really, truly, as bad as the seller said? Maybe it just smelled really strong, maybe the taste was pretty mild.
“I said not to eat it raw, remember?” Ororon repeated.
“Shut up, you’re looking at it too,” Ifa retorted.
“I’m just looking at it.”
“No, you’re not.”
They stared at the jars for a little bit longer, the liquid inside bubbling and stewing the longer they did. Ifa narrowed his eyes, trying to decide whether it was truly worth the risk, worth the potential hangover that would come. The valberries and wolfhook beckoned him, the color of the brew luring him like a moth to flame.
…Fuck it.
“Should we try one of them?” Ifa blurted. Ororon stared at him.
“No. Do you want to?”
“I mean…” Ifa gestured, “We’re both looking at it.”
“Ok, and?” Ororon waved his hands, “Does that matter?”
Ifa snorted, “Are you scared?”
Ororon flinched, “No. I just…don’t wanna drink it.”
“I think you’re scared.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!” Ifa pulled out his wallet, “500 Mora says you won’t drink it.”
“You’re damn right I won’t drink it for 500 Mora. I don’t even think you would drink it for 500 Mora.”
“I would.”
Ororona glanced at him, eyes narrowed, “Then do it.”
Ifa grinned, “If you chuck in an extra 500, I’ll mix them both together.”
“...I’ll add another 500 on top of that if you mix all of the sludges.”
Ifa squinted, “Including the fermented chilies?”
“Including the fermented chilies.” Woooah, hold on. Ifa was down for a good challenge, not to go to the hospital. He liked his stomach the way it was but Ororon seemed to catch his hesitation, upping the ante.
“2000 Mora, total. Final bet,” He offered. Make up the price of the lost bells and then some?
“Deal,” Ifa confirmed. Ororon put the 2000 Mora up for bet on the table while Ifa grabbed the other jars and a pitcher to mix the mash in. He set them on the table and dumped everything in with reckless abandon, pouring in a little water whenever the mixture got a little too thick.
The concoction that came out was a bubbly, pulpy cocktail with questionable sediment at the bottom, but the color that had filtered out was quite pleasant.
For a moment, Ifa forgot this was made from jars of sludge.
“It kind of reminds me of Fonta, that drink from Fontaine,” Ororon noted. Ifa nodded.
“It almost looks appetizing.”
Ororon glanced at him, “Well?”
“Let me pour it out first.” Ifa poured the mixture into a glass, keeping any sediment from floating back up to the top. Now that it was in a glass, the liquor didn’t seem nearly as scary, so Ifa, in all his bravery, chugged the entire thing.
“Oh my—” Ororon gasped. Ifa finished and wiped his mouth, the syrupy feel coating his mouth uncomfortably. Despite the texture, the taste was pretty nice. Sweet, a little sour, a little earthy, and rounded out with a kick of spice at the end, all in all a pretty good drink. Despite the strong alcohol smell from earlier, he could barely taste it.
“It’s good…” Ifa said, handing the glass to Ororon. His friend stared at him in disbelief.
“You feel alright?” Ororon asked.
“Yeah, I feel fine. It actually tastes really good.” Ifa poured Ororon a glass, “Try it.”
“Alright.” Ororon took the drink and sipped it, his eyes brightening, “It is good. It’s actually really good.”
“Did we hit the jackpot?”
“I think we did.” Ororon finished the glass, “How come people don’t just sell this on its own?”
“Dunno.” Ifa grabbed another cup and poured himself a second glass, “Whatever the reason it tastes gre—” Ifa’s vision blurred, nearly spilling the cup in his hand. His head pounded like crazy and he hunched over the table, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.
Oh, oh .
“Ifa?” Ororon asked, concerned, “Are you okay?”
Ifa blinked, refocusing his vision, “Holy shit, it really does hit you like a Mitachurl…Oh, no.”
“What does—hhrk!” Ororon slammed his hands on the table, his breathing heavy, “O-oh…My head…” It hit him right then, too.
Ifa glanced at the cup in his hand before pouring it back into the pitcher. Oh, Archons, put it back before it gets worse. Why did he think this was a good idea? Water, holy shit, water , he needed water so badly. Everything around him wobbled, even he was teetering side to side, trying to walk to the sink.
“Ifa?” Ororon called. Ifa squeezed his eyes shut, and turned to his friend.
“What?” He was really focusing on not passing out, pawing the wall to keep himself steady.
Ororon gagged, “...I think I’m going to throw up.”
Oh, fu—
Hours passed, yet the drunk feeling didn’t wear off. The pitcher from hell still sat on his countertop while he and Ororon traded throwing up in the sink or going to the bathroom.
Normally, throwing up made him feel better, but instead he just felt worse and drunker. The intended effects of alcohol kicked in, and every inhibition Ifa had been holding back broke free from their cages. Every awful thought he wanted to say out loud, being the public nuisance he told himself not to be, doing everything he was told not to do? That sounded so good right now.
“Holy fuck,” Ororon cursed from the sink as Ifa hobbled out of the bathroom, his dick hanging out and pants fully in the ground after he accidentally soiled himself.
“You good?” Ida slurred, leaning into the wall because he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him.
Ororon gagged again, dry heaving into the sink, “Bro…di I err tell you how much I luv you?”
Ida gasped, “You luuuh me, bro?” Oh, fuck, he's felt like he was going to vomit again.
Ororon howled, “Dude. ‘course I do. I luv yo somush, bro.”
Ida made it to the sink, hunching over as his body tried to expel whatever was in his stomach, to no avail. He glanced at Ororon and a devious thought popped into his mind. He put a hand on Ororon’s shoulder, a grin pasted across his lips.
“You luh me nuff to kiss me?” Ifa slurred. Ororon laughed.
“Dare me, bro?” Ororon replied. Ifa jammed a finger into his chest.
“Betchu won’t.”
Ororon snorted, spitting out whatever was in his mouth and put his hands on Ifa's shoulders.
“Really?” He giggled. Ifa smirked, nodding.
“You won’t, you wimp.”
Ororon smashed his lips into his, Ifa groaning into his mouth. It tasted disgusting, but Ifa was too into it to stop. He pushed Ororon into the counter, the bat wrapping his arms around Ifa’s neck as he pulled Ifa down with him.
What was supposed to be a simple dare devolved into a full, alcohol-induced make-out, the two of them furiously slobbering over each other on top of Ifa’s counter.
The blood rushed from his head to his dick, Ifa groaning the more he kissed Ororon. His legs gave out and he staggered to the ground, Ororon going down with him. Ida landed on his back, Ororon positioned perfectly over him.
“...ish big…” Ororon slurred between kisses. Ifa groaned.
“Yeah?”
Ororon nodded, putting his full weight into Ifa's hips, smiling as he kissed him, “I like it big.”
Ida grinned, “Thass gud.”
At some point, they had managed to strip off all their clothes but Ifa couldn’t remember why or how it happened. One moment Ororon was wearing his clothes, the next he was but naked, cock rubbing against his.
“Ugh!” Ororon closed his hands around his and Ifa’s dicks, gently rubbing it up and down as he jerked his hips. The pleasure flooded Ifa’s mind, clouding it even more. Ifa dug his grip into Ororon’s thighs, bucking up slightly with each stroke.
“Fuck!” Ifa hissed when Ororon tightened his hold around him. Hot, white cum spilled onto his stomach, Ifa looking up at Ororon as the man came with him. His brows scrunched, mouth dropped open, and a pink blush dusted his cheeks as he orgasmed. Ida growled, his vision going white.
Fuck, he really wanted to stick it inside him.
His cock slapped his stomach when Ororon let go and leaned forward, their tips rubbing against each other and sending shivers up Ifa’s spine. Ororon smashed his mouth over Ifa’s and he thought it was going to be an ordinary kiss until Ororon moaned into his mouth, tongue fully down his throat. They pulled apart with a pop and Ifa glanced down, Ororon’s hand wrapped behind his back. Squelches cut through the air, Ifa looking up at Ororon to see his face screwed in pleasure, panting like a dog in heat.
Fuck, that was hot.
In a flash moment of lucidity, Ifa opened a stray cabinet, pulling out an unopened bottle of oil.
“Here.” He pushed it to Ororon and the man let out a gasp of delight. In a flurry, the cap came off and Ororon poured oil all over his hand and Ifa’s stomach. The squelching got louder as Ororon fingered himself, Ifa hazily looking at him. He grabbed Ororon’s cock, slowly spreading oil all over it and rubbing him up and down. Ororon squealed, his legs shivering beside Ifa.
His cock twitched back to life, Ifa groaning. Ororon moaned, leaning up and slowly bouncing up and down. Blood rushed to Ifa’s head and he slapped Ororon’s thighs.
“Ah!” Ororon cried. Ifa massaged the spot he slapped, thumb pressed into Ororon’s hips. The mewls and whimpers made his dick harder and angrier, his ball taut and on the verge of bursting.
Fuck, oh fuck, oh, OH FUCK .
“Can I put it in?” Ifa asked. Ororon moaned, his back arching.
“Yeah,” Ororon gasped, pressing his dick into Ifa’s. Ifa grabbed his butt and rolled it closer to him. Ororon shrieked, falling forward. Ifa thrust up, trying to penetrate the entrance when Ororon took it and guided him up.
His hot walls clamped down on Ifa, his legs seizing as he pushed up into Ororon. The man above screamed and cried, his ass slowly lowering to meet Ifa.
“Oh, yeah! Fuck! Ah!” Ororon squealed, tears running down his eyes. Ifa’s went lightheaded, the taste of iron in his mouth.
Oh, he had a bloody nose. He needed to sit up.
He did so, Ororon shrieking.
“Ifa!” He wrapped his arms around Ifa’s neck, “Oh! Mmph!”
Fuck, it was sexy.
Ifa thrust up again, the walls tightening around him.
“Like that?” He breathed. Ororon nodded.
“Again!”
Ifa did it again, his cock pressing deep within Ororon’s insides. Seemingly unhappy with the pace, Ororon began to bounce up and down in Ifa’s lap, rolling his hips with each movement. Ifa almost blacked out, only kept awake by the insane pleasure stemming from his balls.
“Harder,” Ororon whimpered. Ifa obliged, grinding as deeply as he could, yet Ororon was unsatisfied, “More!”
Ifa leaned forward, pushing Ororon into the cabinets. He lifted his legs to his chest and drove into Ororon.
“Like that?” He groaned, his cock sliding in and out with ease. Ororon screamed, gasping and crying.
“Fuck!” Ororon gasped, “Harder!”
Ifa gripped Ororon’s hips and rammed down, Ororon's screeching as cum spurted onto their stomachs. Ifa tried to reposition him, only to slip and accidentally smack Ororon into the ground. Unperturbed, Ororon spread his legs wider and shook his hips, and Ifa took it as an invitation to keep going. He pushed Ororon’s knees to his chest, so far the Ifa was basically thrusting down into him. Ororon moaned, nails digging into Ifa’s shoulders with each stroke. Ifa rolled his hips, slightly changing the angle, and Ororon howled.
“There! Right there!” He cried, “Please!” Ifa panted, drilling into the spot as hard as he could. His stomach coiled, his balls so damn close and begging to come.
“Oro…” Ifa body spasmed, his stomach clenching so tightly he just needed to cum.
“Ah! Fuck!” Ororon sobs, “Ifa! Ifa!” His hands reached out, “Ki–Ngh!” Ifa growled, leaning down and slamming his lips on Ororon’s. It was unrefined and sloppy, spit spilling all over them, but Ifa kept at it, moaning into Ororon’s mouth. They pulled apart to catch their breath, Ororon speeding up and pounding the little hole raw. Ororon’s eyes rolled back, shivering and shaking.
“Like that?” Ifa groaned. Ororon nodded vehemently.
“I like it!” He looked at Ifa, “I like you!”
Huh? He did?
Ifa seized, his stomach on the verge of unraveling and cumming right then and there had a brief burst of will not come over him. He pulled almost all the way out before railing it back in, Ororon screeching.
“I like you!” Ororon cried, repeating his words. Ifa jerked, the words music to his ears and cheering him on as he railed into him.
“Yeah!” Ifa gasped, “I like you too! Like–” It all pooled in his stomach, the pleasure threatening to overflow.
“Ah! Ah!” Ororon clenched down on him, Ifa’s pace sputtering.
“Gonna—” Ifa released, spilling into Ororon. He heaved, hunching over as his orgasm plowed through him. He let go of Ororon, his legs falling over as he pulled out, his dick not quite hard, but not yet softer.
Was this the opposite of whiskey dick? He could feel it grow again.
He looked down to see Ororon laying on his side, his ass gaping and cum leaking over the rim. Ifa gently massaged a cheek, even gently lifting it up a little to really see its beauty. A little more cum leaked out and he pressed his thumb in, pushing it back into Ororon. He gasped and pushed himself up, the curve of his back sending the blood from Ifa’s head to his dick so quickly he could feel it ready to go again. His head pounded, his vision almost completely gone, yet when he glanced down at Ororon’s face and disheveled hair, something in him pushed him to keep going. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily to keep himself from busting prematurely.
“Again…” Ororon moaned. Ifa looked down to see he had propped his ass up, shaking and rubbing it against his cock and spreading cum all over. Ifa smirked and licked his lips, grabbing at Ororon’s ass.
“Okay.”
What….what time was it? What was he doing? Where was he?
Ifa groaned, his hips numb and dick raw, as he looked down to see Ororon almost passed out, eyes rolled back; even he was on the verge of fainting with his eyes half-closed.
“Nngh…Ifa…” Ororon croaked, “Gonna…cum…”
“Mmm,” Ifa rasped back, leaning down and pressing his chest to Ororon’s back. Ororon turned his head and pouted a little, lips pursed. Ifa obliged, kissing him deeply as he ground into his ass.
“Like you…I like you…” Ororon moaned. The words sang in Ifa’s ears, his hips smacking Ororon’s ass each time he thrust a little.
“Like you…” He repeated back, Ororon’s walls tightening around him each time he said it.
Fuck, he was going to cum again.
“Cumm—” Ororon simply fell limp beneath him, his breathing light as he came and passed out.
“Holy shit! Ororon! Ifa!”
He looked toward the door, bright light flooding his eyes. It made him immediately cum, Ifa looking down in a haze to see what was going on just before he keeled over.
“He..lp…”
…He needed to pee, like really needed to pee.
Ifa opened his eyes and looked up to see…not his ceiling.
“Oh, Thank the Archons you woke up.”
Ifa glanced to his left, Citlali sitting in a chair crossed-armed and very angry.
“...Where am I?” He asked.
“At the stadium’s clinic,” She replied.
“Why?”
“You don’t remember?” Well, he did, but clearly something happened between then and waking up. Citlali grumbled, “You and Ororon passed out after having sex all-night long.” All-night long? They went all night long?
Oh no.
“Where…where’s Ororon?” Ifa asked.
“Asleep in a different room.” She rubbed her temples, “Did you know how scared I was when I walked into your house? Cacucu flew all the way to my house screeching about danger and I ran as quickly as I could.”
Ifa flinched, “Sorry…”
Citlali scowled, clearly wanting to rip into him even more but choosing not to, “I won’t ask how it came to that, but you two need to stay here for the next few days. We did a blood test and your alcohol levels were at 0.25. Do you know how dangerous that is? How much did you even drink?”
Ifa grimaced, “We didn’t actually drink that much.”
“But you might as well have,” A deep voice interrupted them. Ifa looked at the door, a tall man around ten years his senior cleared his throat, “Diluc Rangvindr, of Mondstadt.” Huh? Why?
“Uh, hello,” Ifa said.
Citlali sighed, “You were lucky he was already in town. That’s how we figured out you didn’t drink any poison.”
“Why did you think we drank poison?” Ifa asked.
“Sorry, you both look like you died when I found you two.” Citlali huffed, “You were both collapsed on the ground and there was a fallen glass and half-empty pitcher on the counter. What about that scene didn’t look like you accidentally drank poison?”
Ifa stared at her, mouth agape in shock, “Uh, well, I—”
“Alcohol is a poison. Regardless, you two were actually very lucky you didn’t drink anymore than you did,” Diluc said, “Your blood alcohol levels were quite high, and such an amount would normally send the average person to a doctor. Given your extraordinary constitutions, that helped offset some of the effects most other people would’ve experienced.”
Ifa blinked, “How do you know that?”
Diluc sheepishly smiled, “There’s a reason why Dawn Winery doesn’t sell spirits made from wolfhook or valberries. I made a batch as an experiment once and couldn’t feel my face for a day after trying a little bit. I thought it was simply because of my tolerance and had my brother try it, only for him and his partner to find themselves in a similar position as yourself. He afterwards told me it couldn’t be sold to the average consumer and Mondstadt put a restriction on how they are exported to prevent any more incidents; heavily diluted before sale or exportation, about 200 milliliters of the pure spirit to two liters of water.”
Ifa’s heart dropped, “I think I, maybe, added a glass of water total.”
Diluc shrugged, “As you can tell, the regulations on it are quite strict to ensure the product isn’t abused. Needless to say, it just wasn’t worth the money or potential side effects to try and sell.”
“Is that why the fruit seller told me to finish everything in a week?” Ifa asked.
“The yeast found on valberry skins are relatively fast-acting, and valberries themselves are high in sugar, meaning the alcohol they produce is rather strong. As for wolfhook, it is a vasodilator, which can increase how quickly alcohol affects you. Eating within a week is to prevent the production of alcohol because it can happen quite fast, especially in hot weather like this.”
“I thought he was joking…” Ifa rubbed his temple, realizing how close he was to making a huge mistake.
“I would’ve as well had I not known how lethal valberry spirits can be. Despite everything that's happened, you’ve come out alright, so think of it as a learning experience.” Diluc gently smiled, “I’ve taken up too much of your time. You should rest now.”
Ifa flushed, “Ah…thank you for your help.”
“No worries.” Diluc left, leaving Ifa with Citlali.
“Like I said, lucky he was already in town," The woman mumbled.
“Sorry…”
Citlali sighed, “Just focus on getting better. You are on bedrest until you’re discharged.” She glared at Ifa, “And don’t even think about touching another bottle of alcohol.”
Ifa opened the door, Cacucu flying straight to his face.
“Get outta here, bro!” It shrieked.
“Hello to you, too,” Ifa replied, pulling the little bird off his face. He and Ororon had to stay at the clinic for three days before they, more specifically Ororon, could be discharge to go home. After three days of boring clinic food, he was glad to be home.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” Cacucu scolded.
“We’re alright.”
“Did he miss us?” Ororon asked, leaning on the cane. They had to do a some inspection to make sure Ororon was really okay to go home. In an abundance of caution, they told him to go use a cane for a little while to avoid overexerting himself while he recovered.
“How long did they say you needed to use it?” Ifa asked.
“Only until I don’t feel sore any more. They said to gradually ween off the cane whenever I can so I don’t develop bad walking habits.”
Ifa flinched, “I didn’t realize I went too hard.”
“I was the one who told you to keep going, so it’s alright.” Ororon gently smiled, “Thanks for letting me stay with you. Going all the way back to my place outside the village would’ve taken way longer.”
“Don’t worry about it, after we’re…” Ifa trailed off, gesturing, “We’re…something, I don’t know.” Ororon nodded.
“I know.”
Ifa blinked, “You do?”
“I mean, I was drunk, but I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.” Ororon looked at him, “Did you?”
Ifa shook his head vehemently, “No! I didn’t, I just–” He looked at Ororon, “I wasn’t sure if you meant it, or remembered.”
“I did, and I remember.” Ororon smiled, “I mean it.”
Ifa exhaled in relief, “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.” Ororon held a hand out, “Come on. I wanna take a break today and loaf around in bed.”
Ifa pointed to himself, “With me?”
“Who else?” Ororon smiled, “I want to spend time with you.”
And he said it so smoothly. Ifa just chuckled, his chest swelling in delight. He took Ororon’s hand, gently squeezing it and leading them to the bedroom.
“Alright. Let’s go, babe.”
Ororon grinned, purring, “Yeah. Let’s go.”