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It’s nights like this, when the sky is clear and the stars glitter like diamonds, that Diluc misses Kaeya most.
Star gazing was something they did together often, though they usually called it “sneaking out” or “breaking curfew.” Maybe that’s all Kaeya thought it was, but some of Diluc’s fondest childhood memories are of them climbing the cliffs behind the Winery and laying together on the cool grass, staring up into the sky and whispering low to each other so as not to alert monsters or the worried staff of their whereabouts.
There were so many times back then that Diluc yearned to confess his most heartfelt feelings to Kaeya under the canopy of stars, but how does one tell a brother that they love them in more than a brotherly way?
Diluc wishes Kaeya were with him now as he prowls through the darkness, hunting the tracks left behind by an especially careless Abyss Lector. It’s not like Diluc couldn’t take the Lector on by himself, but he aches for some company. Besides, Kaeya was the one who first tipped him off about this particular problem.
Working alone is a habit Diluc wishes he could break.
He hears a soft rustle in the nearby brush and stops in his tracks, silently ducking low behind an outcropping of rock. He peers through the darkness to the source of the sound, though it takes a moment to convince himself his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him.
Across the path, crouched low much like he is, is Kaeya himself. His face shines softly in the starlight, but his expression is formidable and intense.
He must be out here for the same reason. This Lector has been causing problems for far too long, and it’s only right that Kaeya’s here to do something about it himself.
Diluc wants to go offer his help. He wants to call attention to himself so he can wave Kaeya over and get the company he’s been craving, but before he can make himself known another figure appears from the shadows.
Outrider Amber. She whispers to Kaeya in hushed tones that Diluc can’t hear. Kaeya nods, serious, and together they silently disappear into the nearby trees.
Of course, he’s here with the other Knights of Favonius. Eula or Huffman might be somewhere nearby, as well.
Diluc represses a sigh. He doesn’t want to leave this matter in the hands of the Knights, but he can’t stand to work with them even if it means spending an evening with Kaeya.
Diluc’s been trying to spend more time with Kaeya over the past few weeks. Kaeya probably hasn’t even noticed that Diluc’s been approaching him any time he spots him out in Mondstat’s wilds or across the Angel’s Share.
It’s probably not Diluc’s smartest idea. Kaeya is always amicable when he approaches him, sure, but even after so many years the layer of frost is still there, keeping Diluc at a distance. Diluc doesn't blame him.
Frustrated and feeling even lonelier than before, Diluc decides not to engage. He’ll find another lead to track down tonight. He trusts Kaeya to take care of the Lector, he just hopes none of the other Knights get in the way.
Though he spends the better portion of the night searching, Diluc doesn’t find anything but the usual Hilichurl camps. Eventually he ends up at the base of Dragonspine, close to the cliffs behind the Winery.
It’s cold, but Diluc doesn’t need a fire to keep himself warm. He lays back on the grass, arms crossed behind his head, and runs through his mind the words he used to imagine saying on late nights such as this with Kaeya by his side.
“So, Kaeya. I have something to tell you. Please don’t laugh, alright?”
He closes his eyes as the Kaeya in his mind rolls over to face him, chin propped up in his hand.
“If it’s funny I can’t promise I won’t laugh,” Kaeya replies. His face is a mix of the soft lines of his youth and the sharpness of his age today.
“I’m in love with you.”
The Kaeya in his head laughs. The Kaeya in his head scoffs. The Kaeya in his head cocks his head in childish innocence and quirks his brow in adult disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything. Diluc has never been able to imagine any potential replies—Kaeya's thoughts and emotions are unknowable, so Diluc has no idea what he’d say.
He’s probably better off not knowing.
Morning bleeds into the sky. Diluc remains still in the grass, thinking about Kaeya and Mondstat and the Abyss Order and Kaeya and the Winery and Kaeya again. It’s only when the wispy morning clouds begin to clear in wake of the warm afternoon sun that Diluc pushes himself to his feet and chides himself for wasting his time on frivolous things like wallowing.
Time is precious and time is short. He’ll let that be the last time he uses it to feel sorry for himself.
He travels the familiar path back to the Winery and heads inside the manor. The estate is bustling with activity this far into the afternoon, but he avoids the staff as he heads towards his room.
He’s about to step onto the staircase when someone calls out to him.
“Ahem. Excuse me, Master Diluc.”
He flinches and turns around. He might be the Master of the house, but Diluc knows when he’s in trouble.
“Adelinde,” he says with a polite nod.
“I trust you were safe last night?” She glares at him from across the foyer, hands on her hips.
“You never have to worry about me. I always make it home, don’t I?”
Sighing, she crosses to him and begins brushing the grass of his coat with an exaggerated frown. “I suppose I won’t ask where you’ve been all night, since you didn’t have the decency to tell me before you left.”
Diluc smiles sheepishly. “Apologies.”
“I turned down your bed and everything.” She sniffs and pats Diluc on the shoulder, satisfied with her work. She finally looks him in the eye, and through her annoyance Diluc can see the relief and fondness on her face. “I’m glad you made it home eventually.”
“I promise to let you know the next time I plan to spend the evening out,” Diluc says.
“You’d better.” She steps back from him, apparently done with her coddling, and starts rattling off her daily update of the estate.
Though she can be a bit overprotective, Adelinde is a godsend. She takes care of the manor and keeps everything running smoothly whenever Diluc takes off without warning, and even cares to check up on him when he returns. Diluc isn’t sure what he’d do without her.
“...but don’t worry, Elzer’s taking care of that,” Adelinde continues to report. “I’ve left the weekly sales reports in your office, and… oh, yes. You’ve received an alarming number of letters this morning. I’ve left those on your desk, as well.”
Diluc raises a brow. “Alarming?”
“I suppose surprising might be more accurate. They didn’t have a return address that I could see, so maybe there were issues with delivery before now, so the courier brought them all at once?”
“I see. Thank you, Adelinde.”
“Of course, Master Diluc.” She bows her head and turns to go, then adds, “Take the afternoon to get some rest. I’m sure you had a long night.”
Diluc promises to do so before heading up the stairs. Instead of going straight to his room, he stops by his office to grab the sales reports and investigate those mysterious letters. The last time he received a mysterious letter it was a death threat from the Abyss—a cheap attempt at intimidation, really.
He opens the door to his office, then stares at his desk in confusion.
When Adelinde said an “alarming number of letters,” he didn't expect two towering stacks of envelopes neatly piled on his desk.
Intrigued, Diluc takes a seat at his desk and begins shuffling through them. They all read the same thing, written in an elegant, carefree script:
To Master Diluc of the Dawn Winery
Adelinde was right. There’s not a return address on a single one, and all Diluc can guess is that these letters are a poor attempt at a prank from someone with nothing better to do.
He picks a letter at random and slices it open with his letter opener. He pulls out the parchment, unfolds it, and scans to the bottom first to see if there’s a signature.
With love,
Kaeya
Diluc’s heart catches in his throat, but his excitement is short-lived. Kaeya’s never written a letter in his life, and if he had something to say to Diluc he’d say it with a sarcastic grin over the Angel’s Share bar, not send him a letter. And certainly not an entire pile of letters.
It really is a prank, then. Annoyed, Diluc quickly scans through the letter to figure out why the hell someone is bothering to prank him, but he finds the contents surprising enough to warrant a proper read.
He starts over at the top.
Master Diluc,
I can’t say I’m not hurt that you didn’t ask for my help with that whole Abyss Order ordeal, but I was pleasantly surprised when you asked the Traveler for assistance. They’re quite the character, aren’t they? I still suspect they’re older than they look and you should stop being so uptight about giving them a drink. Shouldn’t visitors get to experience all of Mondstat’s finest attractions? The Angel’s Share certainly has the best of them.
It really is nice to see you open up to someone new, though. Knowing you have someone like the Traveler in your corner puts me at ease, even if it makes me bitterly jealous.
We used to work so well together. I miss the days when you valued my advice and trusted my word. I miss staying up late talking strategy at the Favonius headquarters.
I miss spending time with you. I miss how you used to wear your hair.
I hope you’re well.
I’ll see you the next time I need a drink and something pretty to look at.
With love,
Kaeya
As soon as he’s finished, Diluc reads through it again, brow furrowing.
It’s both too accurate and too far-fetched to actually be a letter from Kaeya. The information about the Abyss Order and the Traveler is true, but Kaeya doesn’t talk like this. He’s not the type to be taken up by bouts of nostalgia.
And that last line…
I’ll see you the next time I need something pretty to look at.
That’s definitely not written by Kaeya.
Diluc sighs and sets the letter down. It’s a good forgery, but a tasteless joke. He almost doesn’t want to read the others, but curiosity wins out and he selects another to splice open with the letter opener.
The handwriting on this one is the same, as well as the sign off and signature at the bottom. He carefully reads through it, pausing at a few lines that stick out.
I can’t even enjoy Death After Noon anymore since it only reminds me of you, the fake-Kaeya laments. Imagine that, drinking the most delectable cocktail in the world, and yet my mind isn't on the taste on my tongue or the sensation in my head but instead on you. On your hands, your hair, your voice…
Diluc’s hand twitches and his grip tightens on the letter.
You’re a heartless man, though I’d give you mine if I could.
His heart thuds heavy in his chest as he reads that line again.
I’d give you mine if I could.
It’s not just a tasteless prank—this is downright cruel. Who out there hates Diluc so much to tease him with his unrequited feelings for Kaeya?
Who the hell even picked up on it? Rosaria? She always seemed too intuitive for her own good. Diluc thought he was an expert at hiding his feelings, but apparently not. Someone out there knows he’s in love with Kaeya, and they want him to know that they know.
Is it blackmail, then? Maybe this is Diona’s way of finally toppling the wine industry. Break the competition down from the inside out. Or maybe the Abyss is trying to emotionally shatter him and catch him off guard—but no one in the Abyss Order has readable handwriting like this.
Pained and bewildered, Diluc traces his fingers over the script on the page. If only these words really were written by Kaeya’s hand…
Knowing it’s a bad idea, Diluc decides to read on.
The fake-Kaeya accuses Diluc of being heartless and inconsiderate. A real charmer, you, he adds, and it’s such a perfect imitation of Kaeya’s sarcastic flair that Diluc can almost convince himself it’s real.
As soon as he’s finished with that letter, he grabs the next envelope and slices it open. He reads another letter, then another, then another, confusion and pain and longing only growing with each forged sentence he reads.
I’m thinking of you, Diluc.
I miss you so much it hurts—it’s pure agony thinking you might never come back.
I know I just saw you today, but when can I see you again?
I spent all night at the tavern waiting for you to show up just so I could say hello. I’d be embarrassed, but I’m too far gone for that.
The things I’d do to spend a night in your arms.
The letters are intimate. They’re personal. They mention things that only Kaeya would know, and yet…
They’re fake. They have to be fake.
Or worse, the letters are a joke from Kaeya himself. Maybe he’s somehow figured out Diluc’s affections and is now tormenting him with it to get back at Diluc for all the horrible things he’s said and done.
But they sound so real.
Diluc can’t convince himself either way. All he knows is that he aches down to his very core at the thought of Kaeya saying anything like this to him with even semi-authentic intent. He can imagine these words spoken aloud in Kaeya’s sugary, dulcet tones, and that hurts because now the Kaeya in his mind finally has a response to Diluc’s practiced confession of love. He has many responses, and every single one of them sounds better than anything Diluc could have thought up on his own.
He’s pulling out yet another letter when the door to his office opens without warning.
Diluc looks up and his heart nearly bursts out of his chest.
Standing in his office is none other than Kaeya himself. He’s wearing his usual Cavalry Captain garb, but if he’s on duty there’s no reason for him to be here.
All Diluc can do is stare, unable to even process why Kaeya is suddenly in his office.
“I—I didn’t write those for you,” Kaeya says quickly, glancing at the letter in his hand.
Ah. Kaeya is just here to clear his name. He must know that someone sent these letters and is here to make certain that Diluc knows they’re a joke and that he would never in a million years write anything like this himself.
He’s here in case Diluc is a fool who fell for it.
Burning with embarrassment, Diluc looks down at the letter in his hand. Who wrote them, then? Kaeya obviously knows, but Diluc is too proud—too hurt—to ask outright.
But if Diluc pushes back, Kaeya might tell him what he knows.
“They’re addressed to me, aren’t they?” he deadpans. “And signed by your name.”
Kaeya’s hands curl into fists by his side, and he takes a deep breath. Diluc thinks he’s going to spill the name of the culprit, but what he says next doesn’t make any sense.
“Stop reading those. They’re private and weren’t intended to be sent.”
Kaeya… doesn’t deny that he wrote them.
Diluc has no idea what to make of that. He wants to believe that they’re serious, that Kaeya really means all of these heartfelt confessions, but Diluc has spent too many years breaking his own heart over Kaeya that he refuses to get his hopes up and make any assumptions.
“That’s a shame,” Diluc says, keeping his tone even. “They’re quite beautifully written. I’ve never known your writing to be so personal.”
“I already said they weren’t for you.”
Diluc raises his eyebrows. “Then why else does it start with ‘Master Diluc’?” He holds up the letter in his hand.
If Kaeya won’t admit that he’s here to make fun of Diluc, or tease him, or whatever else his torturous goal is, then Diluc will just have to make him feel like a fool himself.
So, Diluc begins to read.
“Master Diluc, I hope you're safe. Mondstat is doing well without you, though I’ve had to work twice as hard to make it so. Is this how you felt as Cavalry Captain? I take back any grief I gave you when you complained about your workload.
Jean is particularly grateful for the help, but you know me. Gratitude is much better shown through actions. Perhaps a nice bottle of wine or a few days off might make all my trouble worth it. Ha. Like the Knights would encourage my bad habits.”
It has all the same Kaeya flair of the others, including the complaints about work and his penchant for wine and skirting his duties. Now that Diluc is reading it aloud, he can hear that the cadence is exactly how Kaeya speaks, even if the words aren’t what Diluc would expect.
“I visited the Winery today,” Diluc continues to read. “It was for Favonius business, but Adelinde was happy to see me. She misses you; I can tell. Everyone misses you, even if they don’t say anything. I think they’re all still secretly in mourning, though it’s been nearly 8 months since you left.
I miss you, too. I thought it would get easier with time, but it’s only gotten worse. I’m not foolish enough to think you miss me, too, but I am foolish enough to pretend. I hope it doesn’t hurt quite so much for you.
My heart…”
Diluc stops, his mouth running dry as he reads the next words on the page.
My heart burns for you, Diluc.
There it is, so plainly written on the page in what is obviously Kaeya’s handwriting now that Diluc has confirmation that he wrote it. It’s practically a declaration of love, but Diluc is too stubborn and too guarded and too scarred to let himself believe it. His first instinct is to distrust, to shy away and throw it back in Kaeya’s face.
Kaeya may go to elaborate lengths to manipulate others to get what he wants, but the one thing Diluc knows he can’t fake is vulnerability. Kaeya never shows weakness, not even when it would work in his favor—and that’s how Diluc knows, suddenly and with violent clarity, that Kaeya meant every word that he wrote.
At least, he meant them at the time.
Diluc continues to read, though his composure is forced. "Your smile makes me burn," the Kaeya of the past confesses. "Your eyes make me burn. Your laugh, rare and beautiful and bright, makes me burn. Your passion, even your anger, makes me burn."
Diluc has perfected the art of hiding his feelings, but it doesn’t make reading these words aloud any easier. " I want you to come home. You don’t have to forgive me—I certainly haven’t forgiven myself. But I’d rather burn with you than without."
"With love,” Diluc reads, heart racing in his chest. “Kaeya.”
He looks up. Kaeya looks extremely embarrassed, cringing as if he can’t believe he wrote those words all those years ago. He looks regretful, and Diluc wonders if any of the stuff in these letters is still true.
“So, that’s not for me?” Diluc says, hoping to get something from Kaeya that will indicate how he should take these confusing confessions.
“No…” Kaeya mutters, looking anywhere but Diluc’s face.
“Based on the ones I’ve looked at, I can assume they all read something like that?”
Kaeya shakes his head.
Diluc stands and comes around the table. He wants to grab Kaeya and shake an answer out of him and demand an explanation for whatever tortuous reason he decided to send these letters now, years late and all at once, but he crosses his arms to restrain himself.
“I need you to talk to me, Kaeya. These letters. Why did you send me these?”
“I didn’t,” Kaeya says, and for once in his life he sounds honest. “You were never supposed to see them. I didn’t send them.”
Then who did? Diluc wants to ask, but that doesn’t matter right now. There are more pressing questions to figure out.
“But you wrote them,” he says, entirely bewildered. “Why did you even write them? For me to find after your death?”
“What? You were never supposed to read these,” Kaeya says. “They… they were just for me. I got in the habit of writing letters as if they were a diary, they weren’t… they aren’t…”
“Answer me honestly. Do you still feel this way?” Diluc asks, barely daring to hope.
Kaeya cringes, and whispers, “I’m sorry,” like he’s guilty about the answer. Like he’s hoping to spare Diluc’s feelings.
Kaeya starts to reach for the door, but Diluc refuses to leave the answer unspoken between them. He doesn't care if the truth hurts, he doesn’t care if Kaeya regrets every word he ever wrote—he needs the unfiltered truth, so that the kindled hope in his heart can be effectively extinguished after so many years of self-inflicted pining.
“Answer me,” Diluc begs.
Huffing, Kaeya snaps, “It doesn’t matter, alright? None of what I’ve written matters, because they weren't for you!”
“Why do you always lie to me, Kaeya?” Diluc pleads, feeling helpless. “Were you just… just going to go the rest of our lives without telling me any of this? That you burn for me?”
“Oh, don’t mock me,” Kaeya spits.
Diluc tenses and spits, “Are you so cruel that you wouldn’t tell me any of this yourself?”
“Why would I tell you something you clearly don’t want to hear?” Kaeya retorts back, and Diluc feels himself snap a little, because why, why, why is Kaeya always so difficult?
Ignoring the feeling in his gut that this is a very bad idea, he grabs Kaeya’s face so he can look into his eye and see the truth hidden in his star-shaped iris.
“You… You are…” Difficult. Frustrating. Impossible. You’re everything to me.
The look on Kaeya’s face causes Diluc’s anger to fizzle out. His eye is wide, eyebrows raised in confusion. Diluc shakes his head, feeling sorry for his anger but unable to pull back now that he’s come this far.
Feeling foolish and desperate, Diluc says, “Kaeya, if you still feel even a fraction of the way you did when you wrote that letter…”
Kaeya looks sorry. He looks sorry for Diluc, as if Diluc is just as much of a fool as he feels he is, but Diluc won’t take a pitiful expression as a satisfactory answer.
“Kaeya, do you love me?”
Kaeya looks away as Diluc waits to hear an answer—any answer.
“So what if I do?” Kaeya says in a broken voice.
There’s a flicker of life in Diluc’s heart again. It’s not a yes, exactly, but it’s not a no. Kaeya is never straightforward, will never admit anything outright, so there’s… there’s a chance.
He won’t speak it aloud, but maybe Diluc can get Kaeya to show it another way.
“Kiss me.”
Kaeya jerks to look at him, entirely confused, and asks, “What?”
There’s no backing down now. Diluc can feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest, pounding against his ribcage in an attempt to escape the heavy apprehension of rejection.
“Kiss me,” Diluc repeats, voice wavering. “If you still love me, then kiss me. Because if I kiss you first and you don’t love me back anymore, I think my heart will tear itself in two.”
There’s a brief, tense moment of silence, and then Kaeya begins to cry. Tears pour down his cheek and he won’t meet Diluc’s eyes anymore.
Realization spears through Diluc’s gut as if he’s been impaled on Kaeya’s sword.
It was too much to hope for. After all, how could Kaeya still love him, after all Diluc’s done to him? He pushed him away—Kaeya made efforts, and in Diluc’s selfish attempts to protect his own pride and spare his own heart, he pushed Kaeya away.
Besides, Kaeya wrote that letter years ago. They were both 18 then, immature, volatile, and full of fierce but misplaced passion. Diluc certainly doesn’t feel a lot of the same things he felt when he was 18. How could he expect Kaeya to feel the same?
“You… you don’t anymore,” Diluc says, because he no longer wants to hear Kaeya admit it out loud. He doesn’t think he could bear to hear it. Kaeya would probably sound sorry, as if it’s his fault and not Diluc’s that this could never, ever be so.
Diluc takes a few steps back to give Kaeya some space. It’s not fair, though nothing in Diluc’s life has ever convinced him to believe in childish concepts like “fair.”
Kaeya loved him, and Diluc missed his chance. It’s simple, really. Sometimes the cruelest things in life are simple.
He’s about to politely offer to return the letters and let Kaeya make a gracious exit so that he can break down in his office alone when Kaeya suddenly steps forward again and grabs the front of his shirt.
“Diluc, you are a cruel man,” Kaeya says. His one visible eye shimmers with tears.
And then Kaeya is kissing him, kissing him with those lovely, perfect lips of his, and Diluc throws himself at him with embarrassingly pathetic desperation.
He stops thinking, because reason no longer makes any sense. He pushes Kaeya against the door and loses himself in his overwhelming emotions, head spinning and heart ballooning in his chest.
Kaeya tastes like wine. He tastes like dandelion wine. Diluc pulls away for barely a moment to take a breath before he kisses him again, chasing the taste that never appealed to him before but now calls to him like a siren’s lure. He could get drunk off Kaeya’s lips. He feels drunk, feels lightheaded and shameless as he touches Kaeya anywhere and everywhere he can reach and kisses him more, more, more, please more.
The most wonderful thing about it all is that Kaeya continues to kiss him back. It’s undeserved. It’s impossible. Yet somehow, Kaeya eagerly kisses him back.
It’s even better than a “yes.”
“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” Diluc pleads. He breathes in the smell of soap on Kaeya’s skin and kisses all across his face. He uses his thumbs to brush away the tears still trailing from Kaeya’s eye.
Kaeya laughs—his real laugh, not the practiced one he usually throws Diluc’s way. It’s the most beautiful sound Diluc has ever heard.
“You don’t know the hell I’ve been in this afternoon,” Diluc admits. “Reading those letters and thinking they were a joke from god knows who… And then you appear and I think it’s a joke from you, but even worse you admit you wrote them in all seriousness and you didn’t intend to ever tell me at all.”
Diluc presses his forehead against Kaeya’s, as if he could meld them together to never let Kaeya slip away again.
He’s still not sure how and why these letters ended up on his desk, but he thanks the gods—the only time he’ll ever do so—that they did. Kaeya is too good at hiding, too good at covering his true feelings, and if Diluc hadn’t read these words of love himself, he would have never believed that Kaeya loved him just as much as Diluc has all these years.
“You keep your secrets too close, my love.”
My love. My heart. I burn for you.
Kaeya laughs again and caresses Diluc’s cheek. “Did you ever intend to tell me yours?” he says, with a faint hint of tease in his voice.
Smiling, Diluc steals another kiss. Kaeya easily lets him.
“I suppose we’re both guilty of keeping secrets,” he says, though now that the secret’s out he wonders why he never got over his pride and admitted his feelings before.
He won’t let himself regret those lost years. He has too many other regrets that keep him up at night.
But Diluc can make up for lost time—flowers, letters, poems, kisses, late nights together, careful touches, anything to prove his affection. He wants to sweep Kaeya off his feet. He wants to love him; wants to make love to him.
In time. All of this in time.
For now, Diluc wants to pull Kaeya into his lap and finish reading those letters.