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Diluc does not think much these days. There is nothing here — staring out beyond the frosty railings of his balcony, only a perpetual midnight savanna stretches horizontally without end, slicing his world in two: sky, and earth. No wind rustles the grass, and the sun never shines upon this land of eternal night, the sky void of sun and moon and star. The only light comes from the electric blue lampgrasses that dot the plains. It’s quite beautiful, really. A perfect manifestation of everlasting stillness, woven from the laws of sub-space creation. A teapot that isn’t really a teapot but a self-containing world of its own.
He, too, is empty of feeling, a perfect vessel. There is no one here in this palace of ice but himself, the shimmering blue shades that float around the empty corridors, and finally, Kaeya. The shades are voiceless — they don’t answer any of his questions, not that he had many of them to begin with. Diluc wouldn’t know what to ask. He’s forgotten most of the past.
The only hint of the past are the old cuts and abrasions all over his skin, raised scars that will never completely fade. Kaeya always looks at them with an expression of deep regret, as if it was he who had put them there, and more than once Diluc had caught him saying, “I should never have let you go. I should never have let you out of my sight.”
Kaeya never talks about what goes on outside, always deflects the subject skilfully when Diluc tries to ask him what he means. In this paradise that Kaeya keeps him in, the ceaseless, involuntary desire rising in him is the only thing Diluc knows. The perpetual ache of his balls, cock throbbing and swelling to no avail. Here, there is no past, no future, only the present. Only the soft rise and fall of his own chest as Diluc inhales and exhales, the endless beating of his heart as he writhes on the bed in an endless lust-filled haze. It is impossible to tell how much time has elapsed when he sees the teleport waypoint glow red and the familiar silhouette step out. Perhaps hours. Perhaps days. Or maybe even weeks. It doesn't matter. He knows it’s Kaeya standing there.
“Diluc,” says Kaeya, drawing closer, a hazy indistinct shape, his sharp, pointy face coming under the halo of the light. He pulls Diluc up from the bed into a sitting position. "It's time for your medicine."
He bends, and stoops over Diluc to kiss him. As their lips lock, Diluc feels the familiar motion of Kaeya's tongue pushing a tablet into his mouth. There's no choice but to swallow, and he does, albeit with some difficulty.
"Good boy," Kaeya praises, when Diluc opens his empty mouth obediently for him to check. The overhead illumination means that Kaeya’s face is in shadow, rendering his expression unreadable, but Diluc knows him. He’s only seen Kaeya wear one mask: a mild upturn of the mouth with a hint of sorrow at the brow. Kaeya doesn’t smile. Not really. Sometimes there’s a ghost of a smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth, but it never really develops into something full-fledged.
“Kaeya,” Diluc whines, and presses his face into the curve of Kaeya’s palm that wraps around his cheek. The fever in his body is particularly bad today, and he wants — wants Kaeya.
He tenses, waiting, and then Kaeya's hand is sliding down past the nape of his neck, trailing down the curve of his spine to rest gently against the small of his back. Kaeya's fingers crawl underneath Diluc's shirt, pry beneath the waistband of his trousers, and curl around the furrow of his ass suggestively.
Kaeya doesn't even have to touch Diluc's cock to have it weeping at the tip when he tugs his pants down. Diluc's body is so well-trained and so accustomed to the pleasure it already knows what Kaeya will do to him, a single touch lighting up his entire body with anticipation. His legs feel weak and his hole twitches, yearning to be filled. And Kaeya does. He pushes Diluc back. Diluc falls back and lets his spine thump upon the mattress as Kaeya yanks apart the layers of his clothing roughly, rips at Diluc’s ponytail to free his long silky tresses, the black ribbon and the flowery inteyvat ornaments spiralling loose and tumbling to the ground like casualties of war. And then Kaeya’s crawling above him and shoving apart his thighs, pausing only for a moment to position himself before sinking into him in one hard brutal thrust.
It must’ve hurt, but Diluc only arches his back and opens himself more underneath him. It’s what he’s been taught to do. Subconsciously, his body knows that Kaeya doesn’t like it when he resists. Resistance only makes him go at him harder and hurt him more, yet if Diluc spreads his legs and clenches around him like a wanton whore, he’ll reward him with violent pleasure and sickly sweet words of praise.
The mind is a forgetful thing, fleeting thoughts disappearing as quickly as they come, but the body remembers. Like the airless moon, every single footstep imprinted upon its surface remains there till the end of time, where neither desert wind nor ocean tide will erase them.
Diluc's body remembers Kaeya, even if his mind is nothing but sifting quicksand now.
Kaeya doesn’t bother to check if Diluc is fine before he starts moving. It’s a tight fit, Kaeya forcing his way inside without finesse, forcing Diluc to yield, and if something’s stretched too much, too quickly, Diluc just bites back the sounds of discomfort that threaten to spill and works on keeping his breaths steady, his body pliant. Pain flares through his nether regions, the sensation of something tearing, but Diluc splays his legs even wider to accept Kaeya’s intrusion again, and again. Kaeya thrusts into him, pistoning his hips, grunting with exertion as he speeds up. It feels like Kaeya’s trying to force himself into the very centre of his being, trying to fill up all the empty space in him with himself — and Diluc lets him. He’s a perfect vessel, he’s meant to take it, and he will take it. His cock dribbles even through it all, a trained response — he’s learnt to like it, to appreciate the flavour of this pleasure-pain, a seasoned taste.
Only after Kaeya comes inside him in a hot wet spurt does he move to touch Diluc’s cock. He strokes him, hard and fast, brings him to the precipice, and then slows his hand, walking the fine line between stimulation and release. He repeats it, again and again, watching Diluc’s face all the while.
“You’re so good,” Kaeya whispers, running the tip of his thumb back and forth against the slit of Diluc’s cock, spreading the beads of precome all over the head. It feels too good. “You’re beautiful. You’re mine.” He stills his hand, and then he grips him, hard, squeezing the cockhead for a long moment. Diluc feels the pain morphing into something pleasurable, the tingling feeling Kaeya had been building with each pump of his cock held at bay with his hold, the sensation of wanting to come abating, before Kaeya lets go and resumes pumping Diluc's cock, one final rush to the finish line. When Diluc finally comes, he lets the cry bubble from his lips: raw, instinctual, helpless. Dimly he’s aware of Kaeya stroking his hair through the aftershocks, but it all seems so far away, like a distant sensation. It didn’t seem like it was happening to him at all. Rather, it’s a vague suggestion at the periphery of his mind, and Diluc drowns.
In the fleeting moments of clarity post-climax, when the drug-induced heat fades away for the briefest of times, he dreams. Strange alien visions come to him, but no sooner does he try to grab ahold of them than they begin to fade away. A smiling, bearded man, powerfully-built, his burgundy hair parted in the middle. Father, his mind supplies, before the thought is snatched away. Glowing orbs in every colour of the rainbow, ripped off the belts of a hundred nameless masked men. Delusions, his mind provides again, but he doesn't remember why they were so terribly important, either.
He sees a younger Kaeya, crying, covered in blood. Don’t die, the younger Kaeya was moaning, his torso crumpled, head bowed over Diluc, pressing hard on his ribs. Diluc’s chest felt strangely wet. He looks down, and realises that the blood was coming from him. Please. You promised you wouldn’t leave me, Kaeya was wailing. You can’t die. Please, stay with me. You can’t leave me. Kaeya flattened a fresh wad of fabric on him to staunch the flow, but in mere seconds the white cotton was drenched red.
I won’t, Diluc tries to say, but his lips wouldn’t move. He could only watch the expression on Kaeya’s face fold in on itself. It grew colder and colder, until it was twisted and bitter and ugly.
Why does everyone leave me? Kaeya was screaming to the sky. Diluc wanted to reach out and comfort him, but his arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn’t lift a finger.
A touch to his cheek shakes him out of his reverie.
“What are you thinking about,” Kaeya asks, deceptively calm.
The memory is fading. Diluc frowns and tries to remember. What had he seen again?
“I don’t know,” Diluc decides. “But I won’t ever leave you.”
“You won’t,” Kaeya agrees, and smiles like an angel.