Work Text:
1.
"Venti, Venti, Venti."
It's just his name, the name he has insisted it was his. So, why does listening to Morax saying it gain such a reaction? Not many have paid attention to what Venti said about his name before, for why would they call the Anemo Archon by another name? Barbatos this, Lord Barbatos that. It’s a title, a title Venti feels disconnected from. Still, Morax has slowly added ‘Venti’ to his vocabulary. So, at times ‘Venti’ feels less like a name but an endearment term. A signal of how the Anemo and Geo Archons have grown closer and closer through the years.
(In Morax’s lips ‘Venti’ feels like a prayer at times.)
So again, “Venti, Venti.”
Why does Morax always insist on saying his name like that? Venti will never know. It’s almost as if he stops saying it, Venti will disappear with the wind. One moment here and the other, well.
"Blockhead, blockhead, blockhead,” Venti mocks because it's safer sometimes.
There are a lot of things that are better concealed, Venti would know about this. It’s better to sing about Barbatos’ deeds and twist them a bit than actually remember them as his memories, maybe even stick a lie here and there. It's better to mock Morax and sing about his feelings than to tell him how Venti thinks about him nearly all the time.
Oh, a bard that proclaims that he always sings about the truth, but doesn't really. But what is a story if not just half-truths?
Morax does that sometimes, so no one can hold it against Venti. They are archons, after all. They have been here for so long and who knows how long after this they will still be here; they are allowed to mess up with history sometimes.
Morax grumbles, "I have a name, you know?"
"You have thousands of them, my dear blockhead." Venti's fingers go through Morax’s hair, leaving in their wake little wonky braids. They are done and then undone.
Venti doesn't remember how they ended up like this, and that can be said about most of their reunions. Sometimes, Venti has to fly away, escaping from Morax's boulders or from his own feelings. Other times, most likely after drinking more than a bottle of dandelion wine, they end up like this: Morax’s head on his lap or Venti being embraced.
People say that the mighty Rex Lapis has well strong established personal boundaries, not allowing people to touch him at all, but this has never applied to Venti. It's incredible the way they gravitate towards each other, and it's not even the loneliness or the common grief of past friends and lost love. They just do. Almost as if they are meant to be.
Maybe Venti is lying to himself. Maybe they are really a couple of lonely old gods with no one to go to.
"It's convenient if I want to mingle with my people and not get recognized," Morax digs a finger on Venti’s chest, “Venti the bard.”
Venti raises his hands to feign innocence, “Venti is a pretty popular name!” It’s literally not. “Also having one name helps if a certain god wants me to scream their name like last night."
Morax grumbles again and Venti laughs at his foolishness. “Can you imagine me yelling Morax every time we lay, my love? They will think I have an Archon fetish and will ban me from Liyue for disrespecting their god’s name so much.”
Venti is pushed on his back for his words and he laughs at Morax’s expense, not missing the expression he makes at Venti’s words. Venti might be shameless, but that doesn't mean his words don't have an effect on himself or that they don’t mean anything. It’s not the first time he has called Morax ‘love’ nor they are strangers to sex. If Venti could just focus for a moment, he would remember the way his legs-
"I might want to have a name for myself one day like you,” Morax announces pulling Venti by his ankle, probably trying to communicate that he wants them to reposition like before. This old buffoon.
Venti looks up at the sky. Was his own name even for himself? Venti was the name his old friend gave him, and as his image, it's one of the things Venti kept to himself. Selfishly.
Morax looks back at Venti who keeps lying on the floor. He has always been so perceptive for a dense god like him, at least when it came to Venti. And maybe that was just the result of the millennia they have spent in each other’s company.
"Do you think you will go to sleep soon?"
Morax won't say it, Venti doesn't think he can express his feelings. It's fair, he's no one to express his either. Morax might be asking one thing, but there are many other questions behind his eyes. Venti doesn’t know why he does that, why he keeps all those questions inside him. Maybe Venti wants Morax to know him, he just has to ask, because he won’t tell first.
Maybe that’s the reason they are like this. Dancing around assumptions, never daring to outright ask what they want to ask. Never daring to act on their own feelings, even if they have kissed before. Even if they have mapped out each other’s forms and committed to loving each other in a way that’s so different to a book-definition of love.
Not that Venti knows Morax loves him; or he does, but no, it’s just wishful thinking. It’ll always be wishful thinking.
Morax's golden eyes look through him, and he wants to tell him. Any word will make all the difference. No, I’m not going to sleep soon because I want to be with you all the time and I have felt like this before and I’m scared of not saying it soon enough. I’m scared of saying it when it doesn’t matter anymore.
Instead, Venti shakes his head and he sees Morax’s eyes being flooded with relief.
(Venti knows, Venti knows. He won’t say it though. Archons, for someone who’s proud of being a prankster and not one for taking things seriously, he really does take things very seriously. Almost at fault.)
Instead, Venti takes Morax’s shoulders and brings his head down on his lap again with not much resistance from him.
“Oh why, liebling, will you miss me if I do?” Venti flirts because Morax lets him.
The always so constant rock doesn’t even blush at the pet name, even if he knows what it means. But it’s all up to interpretation anyway, Venti could be saying it as a joke because he flirts with everyone, and Morax doesn’t react to it because he missed Venti’s explanation in between all the other irrelevant words that come out of his mouth when he’s drunk.
(Venti can’t hide the shine in his eyes, either way. He has never been good at hiding things from Morax.)
Morax gets up again, taking Venti in his arms and throwing him in the air, like when you pick up a recently recovered bird and you want it to fly back home. Venti extends his wings, obviously, flying away. Laughing.
“Of course not,” Morax remarks. Venti sees in golden eyes that the only home Morax wants him to fly to is here, beside him, but he won’t say it.
It’s always like this. Venti’s game of trying to get a reaction out of Morax, because everything is more bearable when he’s throwing a boulder towards him.
2.
What are Morax and Venti if not the result of the people they have loved in all these years?
Venti knows he is, even now something inside him tells him to stay. To fly to Liyue and stay forever there and be Morax’s little songbird. No, it’s not fair. To say Morax would want him to trap him somehow it’s unfair.
Even though it hurts Morax to see Venti fly away over and over again, he has never said anything about it. So maybe it doesn’t really hurt him, right? Venti said he would not go to sleep soon and then he did anyway, he just left a letter addressed to Morax and then, well- Venti can just assume that Morax was okay with letting him go this time around.
Letting him sleep centuries away. It would be stupid if Morax just accepted that part of him.
A pebble falls from somewhere on Venti’s head.
“Ouch? What the fuck, Morax?” Venti touches his head, pouting. It’s an exaggeration, clearly, but this game of theirs never gets old and they are very quick to play their parts. They are just two archons that are very different from each other and yet.
When Venti looks back, Morax dares to look sheepish even with that big mischievous smile on his face. He’s such a character, the ridiculous god Venti has grown to l-
“Next time you forge my signature you will suffer the wrath of the rock.” Oh right, about that-
Even with his expression, Morax sounds serious about it. Next time? What in the world means next time? Venti was sure that he would find out what he did and eliminate him. And maybe Venti wants that, not the elimination bit but the wrath of the rock, that is. Whatever that means depending on the time of the day, depending on each other’s moods.
They have fought before, but then the wrath of the rock hasn’t meant Morax wanting to actually damage Venti, really. Venti doesn’t think there’s a single mean bone on Morax. He has always been as gentle as the rock can manage to be. More than a comparison to soft rocks, Venti can think of how warm they are under the sun. When you have spent so much time somewhere cold, what’s better than sitting down on a warm rock? Lay down on it, absorb its endless energy.
“Yeah, let me suffer the wrath of the rock, why won’t you?” It tries to be an innuendo, but- Venti doesn’t even know what he is saying. For someone who spent the past five centuries sleeping, he’s sure he shouldn’t feel this tired.
Another pebble falls on Venti’s head and he chuckles, “Archons, Morax, is this it? You have grown weak, haven’t you?” It’s a joke, as many others Venti has told before, but there’s something more underlying there.
It’s been centuries and even if Venti has spent them sleeping, he has missed Morax so badly that now the sight of him stings. He can’t help but wonder what Morax thought in all those years. His nose was deep into all of his silly contracts probably, not a spare second to think about his old friend, his old lover. Did he take strolls at night thinking about him, missing him so deeply that it was unbearable at times? Even though it would be nice to know he was missed, Venti doesn’t want to be a phantom wound on Morax’s heart.
Morax just huffs and softly pats Venti on the back; testing the waters, making sure he is real.
There are many things that are just like second nature to Venti. Drinking until he has forgotten his own name is one of them, then it comes flying away, playing pranks, whistling and singing. Loving Morax so much it doesn’t fit in his body, but he won’t expose himself. A love that neither of them can explain with contracts or poems.
(They have delved into mortal’s pleasures: kissed each other, had hurried sex between laughs and wine and that alone should make their status relationship clear as water. And yet.
Immortal as they are, gods like them can be easily erased by forces outside their control, and any time can be too late. And yet.)
There’s a solemn air around Morax, maybe even it has a tinge of sadness, but Venti doesn’t want to acknowledge it. The Geo archon has more than 4000 years, Celestia above! The last thing he probably needs is to have another archon worrying over him.
“You didn’t send a message announcing your awakening,” Morax smiles and Venti wants to send him flying away. Acting so nonchalant and for what? Venti doesn’t want to be a painful memory, he wants Morax to throw a boulder at him for forging his signature.
“Why aren’t you mad about that?” Venti asks, gritting his teeth.
Morax’s smile stumbles at that and he bites his lip. He looks vulnerable and who allowed him to look like that? To be so open and yet so guarded around Venti, to allow himself to be hurt by Venti.
Finally, “I am, but-” Venti boosts himself upwards and puts his hand on Morax’s mouth.
“Shut up. You have to stop being okay with my nonsense, okay?”
Morax grasps Venti’s arms, frowning, “I am not okay with it. I have never been okay with your stupidity, Barbatos.” Morax sounds angry but his face doesn’t show it, the same look of adoration and patience still on his face.
Venti opens his mouth but Morax continues, “I just think it’s a waste of time to be mad about it all the time. You just tend to go away in the same way I tend to lose myself in all my duties, and we decided to be okay with that. Find companionship on it.” Finally, Morax lets go of Venti. “I have asked myself so many times if I was okay with how our relationship worked, and I am.”
Golden eyes burn Venti’s heart, provoking a fire inside him, making it hard to breathe.
“At times I don’t think I’m worthy of the wind and yet you chose me so I might be. Even if you go away, you come back and annoy me to no end. And that might mean something.”
Morax sighs and when he looks into Venti’s eyes he looks conflicted. Considering his options, has he gone too soft? Is it too sharp not to the liking of Venti? How many changes does Morax have to do to fit someone like Venti into his life?
Oh Celestia, what was he even thinking?
Looking into Morax’s eyes just confirms that Venti is the biggest idiot in existence. It doesn’t matter that he slept centuries away, that he left Mondstadt to fall into chaos, that he keeps misleading and not actually misleading his oldest friend.
The rock can’t really change under the wind’s influence but the wind adapts its trajectory thanks to all the rocks anyway.
Morax tugs one of Venti’s braids and pulls him towards his body, enveloping those big arms of his around him. Covering Venti completely, making him feel small and taken care of. He is smaller than Morax, in height and build, but it has never felt like this before.
“You are the most reckless and annoying creature I have ever met.” Venti laughs at this and before he can joke about him being a blockhead, Morax continues, “And yet, I don’t think I can’t stop myself from reaching towards you.” Yep, blockhead, Venti thinks endeared.
This version of Morax has rendered Venti speechless and the love he feels burns his chest, maybe one-day Venti will be able to express it in a way that’s worthy of Morax’s ears.
3.
Barbatos is tired and Morax is, too. But the wordless contract between them to not address what’s paining them always hangs over their heads
To see the scars and not say anything about them, to touch them as if they were just born with them, a part of each other’s bodies just as their elemental marks are. Just the burden that comes with being an archon, with being immortal, of having the weight of a whole nation on their shoulders.
Barbatos leans on Morax’s side and Morax lets him. He always lets him, but now Morax also lets his weight lean on that one of Barbatos. Equilibrium. Two forces that meet at the same point. None of them resists.
Morax’s chin is sharp on Barbatos’ head but he won’t say anything about it. It’s comforting having a sack of rocks lay on him. Morax is warm and grounding. At the end of the day, won’t the birds want to land somewhere safe? It’s the same with Barbatos, it doesn't matter how he is landing, at least is on the warm earth. Always breathing and constant. Trustworthy.
Barbatos is being greedy and selfish but Morax lets him. He always lets him.
All the times he has spent with Morax were as Barbatos at the beginning. Slowly wanted him and the other archons to call him Venti because they were close as gods of neighbouring nations could be. They were close surely, work friends or something. Maybe, Barbatos has always been like that. He trusts and trusts, in such a way that he isn’t aware of what he’s doing. That’s just another thing that comes easily to him.
A hand plays with the holes in his tights, “These were always my favourite.”
Laughter is easier around Morax in a way that is painful. Barbatos will never be caged when he’s around, he will be allowed to be the stupid god of freedom he has always been. Tears fall even if he’s laughing, he can’t help it.
“Guess you will have to buy me a similar pair then, old man.”
“No.”
Barbatos laughs louder and Morax looks at him with a small smile on his face, letting out a chuckle.
It isn’t funny, none of this is. Yet, here they are two idiots that are supposed to be the oldest archons in all of Teyvat. The last two.
Hands pull one of his undone braids and try to braid it again. It’s clumsy, Barbatos didn’t know Geo hands could shake this much so he helps them until both braids are fixed, a soft blue light illuminating both of them under the already darkening sky.
Morax's lips are strong against him, though. Taking every gasp Barbatos has to give, and maybe it’s that Barbatos wants to give him everything. Every bit of him until there’s nothing.
And again, “Venti, Venti.” A prayer and he’s not Venti now, but for Morax-
It’s incredible to be perceived just through Morax’s lips, through his words. To feel his vessel through Morax’s hands. At this moment, Venti is just because Morax believes in him; if three millennia from now, the people on Mondstadt don’t believe in Lord Barbatos anymore, he will still exist just because his biggest believer is the earth itself.
And it doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of it, Venti doesn’t question it, though. He just grasps onto Morax, because he is selfish and that won’t change. Even if there are thousand people out there that are more deserving of all this love Morax is giving him, he got here first and he won’t leave that easily.
4.
Archons aren’t supposed to play with their elemental skills like this, but sometimes Morax and Venti do. Like most things they have been doing for centuries, none of them knows how it started.
One day, Morax threw a boulder at Venti and the next day they were making out in his abode. It was just how it was; even if Morax always wanted to keep constancy on what happened, he didn’t really want to when it came to Venti. They would just do things, things only they would remember and fortunately or unfortunately for Venti, Morax remembered everything.
Morax raises a pillar and then another, at the same beat which Venti jumps and gets on another pillar higher than the other. It’s fun! They are acting like kids and not the supposed powerful archons they are, and it’s not the first time it has happened. From boulder throwing, to prank wars and jumping on puddles, the Anemo and Geo archons have always known how to make the best of the little time they spend together.
Venti jumps too early before Morax can raise another pillar and he just lets himself fall. In Morax’s words like an irresponsible idiot, so he doesn’t really bother catching him.
The sound of Lord Barbatos' body falling on the floor probably can be heard in Inazuma. Morax's reaction is to just take out the wine and glasses he has brought for their hangout, indifferent to Venti’s groaning beside him.
“Fucking,” a gasp, “blundering,” another sharp intake of breath, “idiot rocks for brains. I should have taken another element for a lover, not this-”
While Venti keeps grumbling to himself, the wind peaks up and it’s strong enough to dishevel Morax’s hair but not to make him fly away; he has learnt of Venti’s pranks and says nothing of this, a smile playing on his lips.
“I have a name, you know?” Morax says as he gives Venti a glass of wine.
Venti pulls Morax’s ponytail until his head is on his lap, one eyebrow arched looking ready to pour all the wine on his face. “Oh yeah?”
Morax uses his special weapon which is stroking Venti’s face and using that soft voice of his, ready to disarm Venti. Morax's voice has always been deep, ready to give instructions and directions, ready to ask for attention when he goes into one of his history rambles. This soft one has always been reserved for those close to him, to offer consolation and advice, to murmur about his own pains. To tell Venti in the death of the night that he is sharing himself with him and no one else.
“Zhongli.”
There in the grass, Zhongli's voice is like the wind. As if he and Venti were just in their primordial forms. A dragon and a wisp, flying. Communicating through the wind. Even if the dragon will spend most of his time on the ground, hoarding stuff and making holes in mountains, it will once again go back to the wind.
One of the most common misinterpretations is that the wind just stays in the sky, oh so above the ground, the truth is that the wind always carries what the ground gives it. Kissing it every time it touches it.
There are even more parallels and metaphors Venti wants to make. About how the wind and the earth belong together and that could be true about any other element if one twists hard enough. But the wind and the earth belong together because a certain bard said so one-day Venti let himself feel so much that there wasn’t enough wind to carry his feelings. There was one day that earth waited for the wind and it waited back.
The wind decided that if it was going to go somewhere, what other place than back to the ground? To rest its bones, to carry the stories people told and remembered. To love it.
Ugh, it’s annoying the way Venti just softens under, now, Zhongli’s stare. He was supposed to pour wine on his head and make fun of him and now.
“Zhongli, Zhongli, Zhongli.” Venti mocks, if anyone is asking, he is mocking Zhongli’s voice from all those centuries ago. Putting down the glass of wine, Venti touches Zhongli’s face as if he is going to get carried away by the wind. And he will, that’s the problem. No matter how much he wants to stay, he will leave and Zhongli will let him. He will wait, then.
But he will remember this. Venti will remember golden eyes and the way ‘Zhongli’ feels rolling off his tongue. The wine, the falls and the bickering, oh Venti wouldn’t change any of this, not even for all the apples and dandelion wine of the world.
Until Venti comes back with a bottle of wine in one hand and his heart in the other.
Venti suddenly pours wine on Zhongli’s face and kisses him stupid. A wordless promise about coming back, about not letting Zhongli be alone for much time.
5.
The first thing Morax does when he sees Venti is to flick his forehead. Apparently, wordless promises don’t really exist, you just have to say what you mean. Never talking about what he wants and what he’s going to do, is also a thing that comes easy to Venti and it was something that Morax let him do before, but not anymore. It was just a matter of time until he got tired of Venti’s antics.
“He- ouch. What was this fo-?”
Morax crosses his arms looking disappointed. “Next time, you have to say you are going to sleep! Not letting me think you have drunk yourself to death in some pl-”
“Oh look who’s saying that? The ‘I’ll stage my death’ guy! As if you have any r-”
“Well, I would have told you if I knew where you were!” One poke, two pokes to Venti’s chest. This is honestly a win even if Venti has one of two complaints about Zhongli.
“You wouldn’t have! As if you would have compromised an important and confidential plan for your bestest friend.”
“How do you know that, you stupid drunkard?”
And then he flicks his forehead again. Venti materializes his bow and thunder rolls in the sky, just an indication of the boulder that will fall on Venti’s head. Oh, this is how it’s going to be. Another Archon War at last, now the two oldest archons will finally fucking die.
And- and a pebble falls on Venti’s head.
If anyone asks, it actually knocked Venti out. It pierced through his skull. The Geo archon, the magnanimous Rex Lapis tried to kill him!
But, the only thing the magnanimous Rex L- no, what this man did. This new man, who looked so different yet so familiar, laughed out loud. Laughed at Venti as if he just pulled a prank on him, which he did actually. It was very lame, but he did that!
Such a ridiculous man. The ridiculous man that Venti loves so so much.
Ah, since when expressing your feelings was this difficult? There are many things that Venti wants to say, all the regrets, hopes and loneliness that have always been floating around in his head. All the ‘I’m so fleeting and I know I don’t know how to take things seriously but I have always hoped to make you laugh in that way. I have always hoped to make your heart feel lighter, to share our common grievances. I have always hoped for you to find a place where you could fly like a feather in the same way I have found a place to rest’ monologues.
But Venti doesn’t have to say much when Morax walks toward him with that slight smile on his face. He has never been one to smile this much, and it was mostly with the other archons, with his friends, in all those moments where Venti sang to the Adepti. But it’s so natural now as if nowadays Morax is just smiling all day without getting tired. Maybe he is, he looks lighter, after all, he looks like he’s going to take off any moment now. One moment here and the other-
Morax’s hand is on his face, pressing too roughly onto it. Even after 2000 years, Morax won’t stop being such a blundering buffoon, a bit too awkward another bit too foolish. But only Venti knows this, and he loves it. He loves the way Morax would just throw him around a little bit too hard without even trying or meaning to, laughing while he tries to convince Morax that it’s okay actually or while escaping from one of his boulders.
“I missed you, Venti,” Morax says way too sincerely and it’s too much to bear, if he wasn’t holding Venti’s face he would have just run away or fall to the floor.
“’Kay.” Morax huffs out a laugh at Venti’s expense, of course. “I missed you, too, blockhead.”
“Zhongli.”
“Eh?” Is it now the time that-?
“It’s just Zhongli now.”
Venti smiles and now he is the one who is going to take off and he will take Mo- no, he will take Zhongli with him. “Good.”
And he decides to be a bit brave, he sees to the sky and to his city and to the eyes of this blundering idiot, this lovable rock, his most trusted friend. Zhongli’s hand softens under his hand, golden eyes looking into his expectant as if he was waiting all this time for him, and maybe he was and he will keep waiting. But it’s stupid because Venti has always been here, even if it was difficult to find him.
He has always been here, just a glass of wine away.
“This calls for a celebration! Oh, we will drink so much wine, my dear Zhongli; we will throw the big party Teyvat has ever seen!”
The tone of the disappointed laugh that follows it’s enough to make Venti’s day. Zhongli pushes him away probably thinking why on earth he loves Venti so much, but alas! Venti won him one day so there’s no way he can just return him.
Zhongli is stuck with him.
“I can’t believe I made the decision to get stuck with you.”
“Forever?” Oh, too sincere. Venti isn’t used to this, yeah his heart might be on his sleeve but he has never explained himself. The necessity to tell Zhongli everything comes and goes and currently it’s coming in waves.
“As long as you will have me.” Still too sincere.
“Good thing I will not never have you, then, ehe.” Super sincere, Venti can’t handle it. So he takes Zhongli’s hand on his and pulls him somewhere where he doesn’t feel the need to explain what he feels. It’s been centuries and now with Zhongli retiring, it might be the perfect time to settle down. Before it’s too late, before-
“Why?” Venti hears himself say, stopping to a halt.
“Mn?”
Venti looks up to Zhongli again, and asks before he can stop himself, “Why do you want to get stuck with me?” Archons, what was it about sincerity? “Ehe? Don’t bother. Don’t bother, I’m just joking. It’s not like I’m going to let you get away from me, yo-”
Questions bubble on Venti’s chest, it’s been so long postponing any kind of real conversation. All his insecurities, all the love and pain that was just simmering inside of him.
“Because you are the most insufferable creature I have ever met.” And Venti knows Zhongli feels the same way, all the words he never got to say. “The wind erodes the rock and that’s not necessarily bad, it just makes all those particles fly away. Giving them new things to see, to experience. And Venti? You have given me so much; I wouldn't be able to forget about you even if I tried. For the wind has always been around me and I would never wish him to leave my side again.”
Venti stares at him. “You are so stupid.”
Good job, Venti.
Zhongli just huffs, “So are you, my songbird.”
Venti frowns at him before grasping Zhongli’s hand and bringing it to his lips. Kissing the leather glove before kissing again on his Geo marks.
And without saying anything about the tears on his own eyes or Zhongli’s pinkening face, Venti laces their fingers and pulls Zhongli towards Angel’s Share. He will get so much damn wine inside him, but not enough to forget this. Venti doesn’t want to forget Zhongli’s golden eyes or the warm grasp on his hand.
Being the poet he is, Venti will never find words to express what Zhongli makes him feel. He will sing songs and give him wine and joke about him, but this? This love that has been consuming Venti for more than a millennia? It’s more than words can express.
The love Venti has for Zhongli is a part of him as much as being a bard or a wisp of wind is.
When the time Venti has to become nothing comes, he wants the wind to tell stories about this. About how from all its travelling a dragon fell in love with a wisp of wind, and how this wisp just couldn’t leave the dragon’s side again.