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Childe’s been sitting in this drive-through for about half an hour now. After a long day of holding Scaramouche back from murdering their colleagues, the only thing he wanted was some damn hot cakes. He had failed to take into account that it’s one am on a Saturday morning and thus, every drunkard for miles is after a burger.
He slumps back into his seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he stares at the cars ahead. The only way to escape would be to drive over the hedges blocking access to the road. He’d go for it, but this is the only McDonald’s in the city he isn’t banned from.
The distant sound of Taylor Swift reaches him from the car behind him, but it’s drowned out by the scream-singing of its inhabitants. It’s more entertaining than watching the line slowly inch forward at least.
After two more T.Swift songs (because that’s what he measures time in now), he reaches the first window and places his order. Then it’s another long wait to the next window so he can pay for it. Those hedges are looking more and more ideal by the second…
He checks his rear view mirror once he’s moved away from the window and his attention catches on the driver. The light from the window illuminates their face and Childe nearly crashes into the car in front of him.
Abruptly slamming his foot on the breaks while still mostly focused on the person behind him makes him smack his head directly into the steering wheel. A dull pain spreads through the centre of his forehead and he slowly lifts his head back up to see a child in the backseat of the car ahead of him glaring.
It’s one in the morning, he’s stuck in a McDonald’s drive-through, and he just gave himself a concussion, so he responds with a middle finger.
After his glaring contest with the person ahead, he looks back into the rearview mirror to get a better look at the sexy redhead. The lack of light makes it a bit difficult, but the shadows over their skin add to the effect in his opinion. Leaves you wanting more, as one might say.
He’s too busy staring at them to notice the car ahead move up until the redhead beeps at him and he quickly moves forward, nearly crashing into the next car again. The backseat glarer returns and Childe throws up two middle fingers this time.
Childe sighs softly when the ordeal is over. He’s making a fool of himself in a McDonald’s drive-through. How is he ever going to get the hot redheads number when he doesn’t even know how to drive?
How would he get their number anyway? Jump out of the car and run up to their window with a pen and paper? They obviously don’t have much patience, evidenced by them having the audacity to beep at him just because he took a few extra seconds to move. That scream-singing has started up again though so Childe can forgive a little grouchiness.
If Childe had a drink, he’d poor one out for all the sober drivers out there. Respect to angry redhead.
Once he reaches the next window, his fate is sealed. He’s paid for the meal now, he can’t book it out over the hedges. He’s going to be sitting in his car, his only entertainment being obnoxiously staring at a hot person who thankfully can’t see him, for the next half an hour.
That’s half an hour that they’re stuck too though, so Childe can formulate a plan. He’s not sure what he’d do if someone ran up to him at a drive-through asking for his number. It might depend on the day, but one in the morning, having already spent nearly an hour at the place? The response would be a firm no.
Childe’s always been a risk taker though.
He grabs a notebook from the glovebox and finds a pen to write down his number. The pen is actively breathing its last breaths so he has to go over it a couple times before it’s actually visible, but it works. Too absorbed in his current task, he again doesn’t notice when the line moves, and the following honk lasts even longer this time.
“You’re lucky you’re hot,” Childe mutters to himself as he moves up, this time leaving a normal amount of space between himself and the next car.
Still, backseat glarer turns to him and Childe draws his best artistic rendition of a middle finger in his notebook. He tears the page out and holds it between his teeth as he puts up both of his own fingers.
After they return to bothering whatever unfortunate souls are stuck in the car with them, Childe turns back to his notebook. His number and… maybe a cute little message? Some kind of hook to make him stand out. He has plenty of time to think of one so he relaxes into his seat as the line continues to inch forward.
He thinks any kind of comment on the redhead in question will just be weird. Saying he likes their hair, because that’s the only part he’s gotten a good look at, feels creepy, but there’s not much else to say. ‘I like how you honk at me even though the line only just moved, can you be fucking patient?’ is another one that comes to mind but that might just be his natural aggression surfacing.
Natural aggression. That’s something they have in common.
When the next car moves, he realises he’s at the front, and hurriedly scribbles down a message as he reaches the window. A young girl who stares at him with dead eyes greets him with his bag.
“Have good day,” she’s already sliding the window closed as Childe puts his hotcakes on the passenger seat.
“Wait!” Childe catches it with his hand and the employee stares at him in displeasure. “I have a kind of weird request.”
“We don't have baby muppet toys anymore, you're too late,” she says.
“No, no, no,” Childe hands her the piece of paper and points to the car behind him. “Can you hand that to the driver of that car? The hot redhead?”
She reads the note then looks back at him with an expression that can only mean ‘are you fucking kidding me?’
“Thanks,” Childe grins and pulls out of the drive-through.
It’s finally time to go home and eat his hotcakes. He can already smell them and even the mental image of lathering them in butter and maple syrup makes this hour long excursion worth it all.
He’s so caught up in his hotcake induced ecstasy that he crashes into the car in front of him.
-
“-CAUSE I’VE GOT A BLANK SPACE, BABY-”
And Kaeya is never fucking talking Diluc into sober driving for him and his stupid friends ever again.
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you had an AUX cord,” Mona points out. “And if the only CD you had wasn’t Taylor Swift. Seriously, you don’t have anything else?”
“The radio works perfectly fine,” Diluc struggles to be heard over the screaming of his backseat annoyances. “I didn’t even know I had a CD in here until Venti dug it out from underneath the seats.”
“... You listen to the radio?” Mona asks incredulously. “Like, with all the ads and stuff?”
“Yeah?”
Mona shakes her head slowly. “Fucking freak.”
Diluc rolls his eyes in irritation as the next song starts up and Kaeya stops making out with Albedo to start singing again. Venti has been squished into the door by their… excessive movements, but he doesn’t seem to mind. And behind them, in the ‘back back’ as Kaeya calls it, Amber manages to scream louder than anyone else while Sucrose pretends she’s asleep to avoid conversation.
God, he wishes that was him.
He turns the music down when they reach the first window and everyone in the car groans except for Sucrose, who covers her ears at the noise. Diluc turns to Mona and gestures for her to list their order.
Once she’s done reciting their order, everyone in the car shouts their drink of choice. Except for Kaeya, who Diluc has to grab by his ear to get him to pay attention to their food instead of Albedo for five fucking seconds, but they eventually get through it.
He’s ready to move up but the dumbass in front of him is just sitting there so he beeps at them and they narrowly avoid ramming their car into the next one. They’re either half asleep or just as drunk as the rest of these idiots. Diluc doesn’t have time to consider it because Mona turns the music back up and the car breaks into song again.
“Kill me.”
They continue to scream, sans Sucrose who might just be playing dead now, and Mona who is instead humming tastefully. Albedo and Kaeya are usually preoccupied, but they join in occasionally. Venti and Amber’s voices more than make up for the others' silence.
Diluc really wishes he’d ordered delivery but the app confuses him and he refuses to admit that because Kaeya will call him a boomer. Usually he gets Jean to help but she passed out on the rug after her fifth drink. It’s like the universe has perfectly aligned to stick him in his own personal hell.
The idea that he’s in hell is reinforced when he reaches the next window and has to pay for his tormentor's meals. It’s been a long time since he’s been tempted to put fish paste in Kaeya’s expensive shampoo but he might revisit the idea once they finally arrive home.
“Fucking hell,” Diluc mutters when he notices the same car just stopped doing nothing. He holds the horn down a little longer to make sure they get the idea this time. “What a dickhead.”
Mona absently leans her head against the window, causing her whole body to shake due to the bass of the speakers. “There’s still three cars ahead of them. It doesn’t really matter if they move all the way up, we’re still stuck here.”
Diluc slumps back into his seat and glances at the hedges decorating the space between the drive-through and the road. He’d go for it but he’s only just gotten his car fixed after the last mishap involving agriculture.
After the same song has finished playing for the fourth time because Mona really likes ‘Bad Blood,’ they make it to the final window. There’s no more cars in front of them, just the exit, and the second that they have their food, Diluc is fucking out of there.
“Here’s your order, and this thing,” the window girl holds out a few big bags as well as a slip of paper.
Diluc narrows his eyes at the phone number then glances back at the girl. “What are you, like, twelve?”
“I’m fifteen,” she says. “And it’s from the car that just came through.”
“What is it?” Mona asks as she snatches the paper out of his hands. “Oh my god.”
“Hm?” Kaeya leans out of his seat to see over Mona’s shoulder. “Oh my god.”
“What happened?” Venti squeezes around the other side to read it. “Oh my-”
“Can someone take the goddamn food?” Diluc interrupts. “I need to be able to drive.”
“Guys, someone’s hitting on Diluc!” Kaeya yells to everyone else in the car and everything devolves into chaos once more. Sucrose even opens her eyes.
“I doubt it’s for me,” Diluc argues. “Mona’s also in the front.”
“He said ‘hot redhead,’” window girl says. “Personally, I don’t see it.”
“Ah,” is all Diluc responds with. “That’s…”
Diluc double checks that no one else in the car has red hair. One of them could have dyed their hair without him noticing. “Maybe they’re colourblind.”
He doesn’t notice a hand slip into his pocket and remove his phone until Kaeya is already putting the number into his contacts and typing out a message. He only realises Kaeya has done this because he loudly announces it the moment he thinks he’s out of Diluc’s reach.
“Don’t you fucking dare-” Diluc unbuckles his seatbelt and stretches through the middle of the car, causing Kaeya to climb over the seat into the ‘back back.’ Venti and Albedo lean as far out of the way as possible, but before Diluc can climb over and beat Kaeya, the girl at the window clears her throat.
“There’s a long queue,” she says. “Please take your food.”
Kaeya sticks his tongue out as he continues typing and Diluc glares at him while slowly moving back into his chair. He passes the food over to Mona and puts his seatbelt back on before moving the car forward. The second he’s out of the drive through, he parks it and turns back to Kaeya, who is already scrambling to get out of the car.
“If you kill me, Dad will stop paying for your apartment!” Kaeya forgoes opening a door to instead climb through the open window while Diluc gets out and circles around to him. “Think of the rent, Diluc!”
“I’ll just use your life insurance payout.”
“Imagine being able to afford life insurance,” Mona mutters as she sips her fanta. “... Or an apartment.”
Kaeya manages to slip around the back of the car, but Diluc climbs over top to intercept him before he can escape. He pulls him into a headlock and Kaeya quickly drops the phone, tapping on Diluc’s arm to surrender.
“I already sent the message!” Kaeya sputters. “There’s no point killing me now!”
“How about for peace of mind?”
Diluc is planning on continuing to choke Kaeya out until he apologises and then they never speak of it again as their fights usually go, but he’s interrupted by even more yelling from further ahead. There are two cars parked not far from them and he can see a decently sized dent in the back of the furthest one. He can't see the front of the other car, but he can guess what happened.
“Hey, I’m willing to be civil about this!” One guy yells. “I’ll pay for your ugly fucking car and we can get on with our lives, but if you keep shouting at me, I will fight you.”
“Yeah?” The other says. “You think you can take me? You think you can-”
A second later, there’s the sound of a fist hitting someone in the face. It’s not his problem exactly, but he could at least call the cops or… something.
“Diluc?” Kaeya squeaks and Diluc quickly releases him when he realises he’s been holding him all this time. He takes a deep breath as he mutters something about a murder attempt and Diluc continues to focus on the fight.
“Go wait in the car,” Diluc eventually says with a sigh. Being a good samaritan sucks. “I’ll get revenge on you later.”
“Ooh, scary,” Kaeya mocks. “Whats it gonna be? Fish paste in my shampoo again?”
Diluc ignores him and instead approaches the people brawling. He can see two more people in the car, both looking away from the fight.
“Come on guys, it’s nearly two in the morning,” Diluc summons all of his conflict de-escalation training. “We all just wanna get home, right?”
“This guy crashed into my car!” The man speaking is significantly bigger than the ginger who threw the first punch.
“I said I’d pay for the damages,” he responds. “If you’d stopped screaming in my face for five seconds, maybe you would have heard me.”
Diluc can’t say he blames the guy. Being stuck in a McDonald’s drive through for nearly an hour and then immediately getting into a car crash would piss him off as well, but he really needs them to stop trying to provoke each other.
“So this is all settled then?” Diluc asks. “He can give you his number and you can get in contact in the morning.”
The bigger guy nods gruffly and the ginger noticeably relaxes. Diluc thinks all is fine for a moment before the man speaks up again, “he still hit me.”
Diluc tries to grab him before he can hit the other guy back, but he doesn’t need to. Despite being smaller, he manages to flip him on his ass the second he raises his fist. He pushes him into the ground with his boot while he holds his arm up, making it impossible for the man to get up without breaking a few bones.
“I will hit your car again if you don’t quit it, I swear to fucking god, I don’t care if you have a kid in there, I’ll aim for him, I’ll hit him on purpose, I will kill your son-”
“Okay,” Diluc pulls the surprisingly aggressive person away. “I think he’s had enough.”
“Wanna punch me in the face, I’ll take your entire goddamn nose,” he continues ranting even as Diluc pulls him away. “I’ll make you eat it. I’ll make your stupid kid eat it.”
Once they’re a safe enough distance away that Diluc is pretty sure he won’t immediately run back and try to curb stomp the guy, Diluc lets go. The guy turns around, mouth open to yell at him, but stops and blinks in surprise. The way he looks at him makes Diluc’s face heat up and now he kinda wants to punch him.
“What?” He scowls.
“You’re even more attractive than I thought you were,” he says. “Hi, by the way. My name’s Childe, I’m, uh, I’m a normal, well adjusted person who doesn’t threaten to feed people’s noses too them.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, I'm a normal person with a normal job like... accounting. I’m an accountant,” Childe continues. “I do such normal stuff at my job. But in a sexy way, I promise. I’m a hot accountant.”
Diluc stares at him.
“This isn’t working, is it?”
“No,” Diluc shakes his head.
“Damn it,” Childe mutters. “Let me try again. Okay. Pretend all of that just now didn't happen-”
“I really can’t.”
“Just pretend,” he insists. “My name is Childe. What’s yours?”
Diluc considers turning around and getting back in his car to drive away as quickly as possible. It’s a tempting plan until he hears Blank Space start to play again and he keeps his feet planted firmly in front of the weird guy instead. “Diluc.”
“Diluc,” Childe says. “That’s a nice name. Your hair is also nice, if that’s not weird to say. It might be. I don’t know flirting conventions. You’re cute though, so, hi. Again.”
Oh. Okay. The freak he had to stop from threatening to kill a child is making him blush. That’s fine. That’s normal.
“You’re the one who left your number, aren’t you?” Diluc asks to try and get the topic away from however cute Diluc may or may not be.
“Yes, that was me,” Childe winks. “Am I winning you over? Is this working?”
Diluc decides not to answer that. “My brother stole my phone to message you so… you have my number now too, I guess.”
“Is that permission to use it?” He asks hopefully.
All of Diluc’s self preservation instincts are telling him to say no. He’s not going to talk with this weirdo just because he called him cute and it made him feel warm. He has more self worth than that. He will not-
“Maybe,” is what Diluc says.
Childe grins at him, wide and full of teeth. He’s kinda pretty, if Diluc allows himself to think about that. Which he doesn’t.
“Cool,” Childe swings back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Maybe I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“I, uh, have to get my idiots home,” Diluc says. “So… bye.”
Diluc turns on his heel and walks back to the car, hoping that no one will notice his red face. He hears Childe say goodbye as he goes, but doesn’t turn back around. Diluc would very much like to go home now.
He gets back into the car as a new song starts up alongside his companions scream singing. Luckily, that means they’re all too busy to comment on his conversation with Childe. Unluckily, it means Diluc has to listen to them.
He watches for a while, making sure Childe doesn't get in another fight as he gives his number to the person in the passenger seat of the car he crashed into. No fists are thrown, no noses are stolen, and no children are hit with cars, so all seems well.
Childe’s car takes off, front bumper scraping along the ground, and Diluc takes off in the opposite direction.