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Childe keeps staring at him from across the table.
Kaeya pretends like he doesn't see it, leaning his chin on his hand and looking out the window. Pierro drones on and on, the monthly Harbinger meeting as boring as ever. To his right, Albedo is doodling on the back of his paper, carefully putting together a sketch of Scaramouche, who looks amusingly close to slamming his head through the table out of boredom. Kaeya will give it about two minutes before he starts insulting Childe to relieve himself of it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Childe turn his head to respond quietly to something Pulcinella says, and then it's right back to staring at him, ocean eyes boring holes into the side of his head.
He reaches over, taking the hand that Albedo isn't using to draw. Albedo doesn't even look at him, though he shifts slightly and allows his hand to be pulled into Kaeya's lap, letting Kaeya fiddle with the silver ring sitting on his finger.
The meeting draws on. And on. And on.
And then, after an eternity, it is over. The second that the attending Harbingers begin to stand from their seats, it’s Childe who stomps over to him, slamming a hand down on the table as Kaeya reclines into his seat and watches Albedo drift off to hand his sketch to Scaramouche.
They get on surprisingly well, though Kaeya doesn't know whether to worry about the destruction they could potentially cause together, since Scaramouche has a habit of putting together grandiose ideas of world takeover and Albedo has a habit of taking every suggestion with equal amounts of consideration.
“Stop ignoring me,” says Childe.
Kaeya finally looks towards him, blinking innocently. “Were you trying to get my attention? Didn’t know you cared so much, Tartaglia.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Childe huffs. “I know that you saw me staring at you, Alberich.”
“I’m a busy man, don't blame me for not paying much mind to everything you do,” Kaeya says, shrugging. “I’m getting married on Friday you know.”
“I thought the wedding was on Sunday?”
He smirks. “That’s the fake one. You know, for the public. The real one is on Friday. Was the question you had related to that?”
“It is, in fact,” Childe clears his throat, relaxing enough to sit down on the broad conference table. “I’d like to know your plans for the event. As your best man, and all.”
Kaeya grins sharply, letting his voice lilt into something more singsong. “Let’s not get ahead of yourself, Ajax. I was planning to appoint you to be the flower girl, actually.”
“You’re not funny,” Childe says, rolling his eyes.
“What if I wanted Scaramouche to be my best man?”
“Yeah right, as if he didn't already brag to me about Albedo asking him to fill that role.”
“Signora, then.”
Childe ignores that, choosing instead to point threateningly at him. “I expect a full rundown of your plans. You aren’t even the one putting it together, are you?”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know you were so into weddings. And no, Signora is planning it. She insisted.”
“I helped my mother plan both of my older siblings’ weddings,” Childe exclaims indignantly. “I’ll have you know I’m quite experienced in the process.”
Kaeya hums thoughtfully, considering the request. Either way, he doesn’t want to take away Signora’s duty of organizing the wedding. He had seen the look in her eyes when he had told her about it; nostalgic and melancholic, no doubt reminiscing about her union with the long deceased Rostam. To take that away would just be cruel, and he could never do that to her.
So he says, “I’ll ask the Fair Lady if she'd be open to your assistance. Is that good enough for you?”
“Are you kidding? She’d never agree to that.”
“Well, you could always grovel at her feet. She may take pity on you.”
“Over my dead body,” Childe snorts. He straightens, tucking his coat tighter around himself in preparation to leave. “You’re a cruel man, Kaeya. I truly wonder what Albedo sees in you.”
Kaeya raises an eyebrow. “So that’s a no to being a flower girl? What, scared you can’t pull off a dress?”
“I would fucking rock a dress and you know it. Don’t you dare imply otherwise.”
“We should get married,” Kaeya tells Albedo one day, laying all over his lap as they relax on one of the library couches.
Albedo quirks an eyebrow, a smile dancing on the edges of his lips. “We’re already getting married.”
“I know. I just want to see how many different ways I can propose to you before Pierro makes me stop.”
“So the entire reason behind this is so you can irritate your father?”
“No, of course not.” He grins cheekily up at Albedo, who brushes some hair out of his eyes and just raises his eyebrows higher. “It’s because I love you. Irritating Pierro is just a secondary motive. How do you feel about flowers?”
“Interesting research subjects,” Albedo says. He’s trying not to laugh, bottom lip trembling slightly as he presses his mouth into a line. His fingers trail higher, tangling into Kaeya's hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, making him sigh softly and shut his eyes. “Did you know that some sakura blooms hold high amounts of concentrated electro energy?”
“I did not. Do you think the Electro Archon would smite me if I stole all the sakura blooms in Inazuma for you?”
“Please don’t.”
“I think I could take her in a fight.”
“I assure you that you could not.”
Kaeya pouts. “So little faith in me, my love.”
“It’s called being pragmatic,” Albedo says, free hand drawing circles on his chest. “Have you ever slayed a giant serpent god with just one strike?”
“Can’t say that I’ve met any,” Kaeya says lightly. This earns him a soft laugh, one that he wants to pull out of the air and cradle close to his heart. “Alas, the closest thing to a giant serpent god recently was the sea monster Haishan, and that had already been slain long before Capitano stopped being able to throw me around in the sparring rooms.”
“He can still do that.”
“Maybe. But I’m better at avoiding it now.”
Albedo hums. “How would you even get to Inazuma? The Sakoku Decree is still in effect.”
Kaeya grins, raising a hand in front of Albedo's face, letting snowflakes dance along the tips of his wiggling fingers. “Ice-bridging, obviously.”
“For five hundred miles?”
“If worse comes to worst, I’ll use Childe like a surfboard.”
“I’m not sure he'd agree to that.”
“He doesn't have to agree to anything if I threaten to show Scaramouche all of the pictures of him as a recruit.”
“That's cruel.”
“It's called resourcing.”
“It’s called—” Albedo flicks his forehead, and Kaeya snickers. “—blackmail, Kaeya.”
“Wouldn’t you like the end result, though? Imagine entering your research lab, and it’s filled to the brim with every electro-charged sakura bloom in Inazuma. Or they could spell out ‘Will you marry me?’ like in the books.”
“Romantic, but I don't even know what I'd do with that many sakura blooms.”
“They can be used for cooking, too!”
“Neither of us cook. The staff does.”
“Eat it raw?”
Albedo sends him an unimpressed look. Kaeya grins impossibly wide. “So is that a yes to marrying me if I propose with sakura blooms?”
“We’re already getting married.”
And they’re back to square one. Kaeya laughs openly, and wonders how much he'd have to pay to get a crate load of cecilias imported from Mondstadt.
Pantalone could probably do it, if he asked nicely.
He spots Scaramouche coming from a mile away, mainly due to his obnoxiously large hat and the dark coloring of his clothes, which stand out against the neutral grays and whites and pastel blues of the palace walls. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to meticulously clean his sword.
Scaramouche stomps in, the bells on his veil jingling softly, and plops down on the seat across from him, arms crossed. “Your fiancé asked me to be his ‘best man’ at your stupid wedding.”
“I know. He told me.”
“Obviously.” Kaeya smiles at his sharp huff. “I said yes.”
“That’s good. I’m not quite sure who else he’d ask if you said no. You’re his closest friend here, after all.”
Scaramouche scoffs, and Kaeya pretends like he doesn’t see the way he sits a little straighter at that. “That’s depressing. Does that guy seriously not talk to anyone else?”
“He’s an alchemist. He spends half his days holed up in the laboratory, and the other half traipsing around the wilderness looking for specimens to study. Cut him some slack, Scara.”
“I’ve been telling you for years to stop calling me that,” Scaramouche sneers. Kaeya just smiles, unfazed, making him roll his eyes. “Whatever, brat. Just know that if Dottore so much as comes near me during this event, I’m leaving.”
Kaeya widens his eyes innocently. “Hoho. Dottore, not Childe? Got something to say?”
“I’ll kill you.”
“You’d never hurt me.”
“You’re twenty five, not eight anymore.” Scaramouche narrows his eyes. “I’ve got no qualms about harming you.”
“You’re too attached to me,” Kaeya teases. “You loved babysitting me when I was a child. Remember all the times we played hide and seek?”
“You mean the times that you snuck around the castle collecting blackmail material on other Fatui and the Jester sent me to hunt you down before you ended up hearing something that you shouldn’t.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Scaramouche huffs again, and Kaeya graciously pretends as if he doesn’t hear the laugh hidden beneath it.
“Do you think Pierro is going to cry?” Kaeya asks absently, picking up a test tube filled with a curiously colored liquid. It sizzles when he shakes it experimentally, and he pouts when Albedo quickly swoops in to pluck it from his hands. “Rude.”
“Don’t touch things you aren’t familiar with,” Albedo chides, carefully placing it somewhere else. “He’s your father. Isn't it normal for them to become emotional at weddings?”
“Emotions? Pierro?” Kaeya snorts. “You’re funny.”
“He cares about you more than he puts out,” Albedo says, coat fluttering around him as he moves away to another part of the large desk. “I wouldn’t put it as an impossibility.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. Childe will likely cry, though. He’s a sap, that one.”
“He doesn’t seem the type.”
“You only think that because you haven’t seen him with his younger siblings, trust me.”
Albedo hums, disbelief evident in the lilt of his voice though he doesn't say anything more.
Kaeya grins sharply. “Wanna make a bet?”
Albedo rolls his eyes, only pretending to be exasperated. Regardless, he says, “Thirty mora.”
“Deal.”
“You know,” Kaeya shouts over the rumble of pursuing rifthounds, “when I said that we should go on one last date before the wedding, this isn’t exactly what I meant!”
“You don’t like it?” Albedo shouts back, leaping over a fallen tree trunk. He’s got his sword gripped tightly in his right hand, coat flaring out behind him as they sprint away from the horde of abyssal monsters giving chase.
“That’s not what I said!” Kaeya glances over his shoulder, catching sight of the rifthounds leading the charge, alongside a few mitachurls and followed by a lumbering frostarm lawachurl in the back. A shard of rock whizzes past his cheek, slicing it open, and he scowls. Nests of abyss monsters are always such annoyances to deal with.
Just as they break the treeline, Albedo’s hand closes around his shoulder, yanking him back. His breathless voice curls through the air. “Kaeya.”
Kaeya glances back, sees the vast expanse of forest stretching out for miles below them, where they stand on the edge of a snowy cliff. He inhales sharply, shifting his weight and glancing between both the cliff and the horde of monsters that have slowed to a prowl as they approach, as if they know that they’ve run out of room to flee.
“Well,” he breathes, “you got any plans for us in that genius brain of yours, love?”
Theoretically, they could try to fight their way out of this. Doesn’t seem like a good idea though, considering that Kaeya’s already running out of elemental energy and Albedo is moving slower than either of them would like to admit, the chilly air surrounding them piercing deep into his bones.
At his side, Albedo shifts. “Just one. You won’t like it.”
“At the moment I’m feeling very open-minded.”
“Alright.” Albedo disperses his sword, making Kaeya glance his way with a frown.
“What are you—” He is cut off abruptly by Albedo’s hands wrapping around him, throwing him over his shoulder. Kaeya squawks, not quite flailing but definitely fumbling a bit in surprise, nearly dropping his sword. “Albedo?”
“I’ve got you,” is all Albedo says, before he sprints towards the edge of the cliff and leaps.
Pierro raises his eyebrows the moment Kaeya all but drags himself through the doors to his office, staggering in with torn clothes and messy hair.
“I was under the belief that you would be taking it easy before your big day,” he says in lieu of greeting, slowly placing down the papers he was reading as Kaeya drops unceremoniously into one of the couches in front of the desk.
“It was supposed to be easy,” Kaeya huffs in response, stretching out his aching neck and groaning. “Your info was shit.”
“Hm.” Pierro purses his lips, his single exposed eye flickering over Kaeya analytically. “I simply relayed what was reported to me by the scouts. Did you find trouble?”
“I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, making a gesture towards his disheveled self. “What do you think?”
“And Albedo?”
“He’s fine.” Kaeya leans back, throwing an arm over his face and huffing again. He hears the sound of Pierro’s chair being pushed back as he stands, then the opening and closing of drawers. Steady footsteps come closer, and the air shifts when Pierro drags a chair over. He waits for a moment or two before saying, grudgingly, “We jumped off a cliff.”
“Hm,” is all Pierro replies. A big hand comes to grip Kaeya’s wrist, pulling his arm away from his face, and he’s greeted by the sight of a bottle of firewater and Pierro holding a small kit of medical supplies.
Kaeya takes the bottle of firewater, popping open the cap and taking a swig instantly. The liquid burns down his throat, and Pierro raises an eyebrow but ultimately says nothing as he rolls up Kaeya’s sleeve to expose a small cut. They fall into silence as Pierro begins dabbing at the wounds, wrapping them up with practiced care.
He’s better now, Kaeya thinks, at doing stuff like this. There was a time when Pierro hardly bothered to learn to treat wounds like this. But Kaeya had never liked going to the Fatui's doctors, and every time he gets hurt it's always Pierro's office that he ends up dragging himself back to, consciously or not.
He’s never been under any delusion that Pierro is the best guardian in the world. Most parents don't start teaching their children to fight at the age of eight. Most parents don't encourage their children to do things like stealing secrets and spying and killing perceived traitors. But the truth is that Kaeya doesn't mind it, really, and he thinks a life like this is rather fitting for someone like him.
There was a time, so many years ago, when Pierro didn't quite know how to act around Kaeya and didn’t quite know how to care for a child like him. And sometimes it’s still like that too, because Pierro’s stoicism and Kaeya's sarcasm aren't exactly things that have ever mixed well.
But, well—
He’s better now, Kaeya supposes. They're both better now. And that surely must count for something.
“I want a dance,” he says, and takes another swig of firewater. The alcohol burns down his throat and sparks heat in his stomach, and he clings to the fiery courage it offers. “At my wedding. It’s far from traditional, but…”
An abrupt squeeze on his arm has him trailing off. When he looks over, Pierro is gazing at him. He's not smiling, but there is a softness to his expression that Kaeya has become more and more familiar with over the years.
“Whatever you’d like,” he says.
Albedo’s voice filters suddenly through his mind, an old memory from a long time ago. “You’re both emotionally stunted,” he had said back then, matter-of-fact in the way he is about most things. “The only difference between the two of you is how you display it. He’s bad at showing that he cares and you’re bad at letting yourself be cared for. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“He’s not my father,” Kaeya had snapped back, twenty three years old at the time and fuming from an argument over a failed mission.
“Isn’t he?” is all Albedo said, a dryly amused look on his face.
Yeah, Kaeya thinks as a small, wry smile curls the corners of his lips. You were right.
When are you not?
The private wedding isn't one that is grand by any means. The only guests are the other Harbingers, a few select servants and soldiers and townspeople that Kaeya has made friends with over the years, and Childe’s family.
(He had joked about sending an invite to a particular residence that lies in Mondstadt, home to a newly returned red-haired aristocrat, but Albedo had smacked him upside the head and firmly forbidden him from doing so.
“The entire reason we left him alive was so we could use him to dismantle the intelligence organization working against us,” Albedo said, unimpressed. “What would be the point of all that if he came back here just to kill you?”
“You’re no fun,” Kaeya replied, and stuck out his tongue childishly. Albedo only rolled his eyes.)
The Tsaritsa does not make an appearance, though Kaeya feels her presence all the same, like a thin blanket of frost lying upon his shoulders. There is a letter stamped with her seal that lies upon the table for the few wedding gifts that are brought.
Albedo looks radiant in the thick, elaborate cape that had been commissioned for the occasion. His eyes are as bright and blue as they were that day in the snowstorm, and when he smiles after the vows Kaeya feels like he's falling in love all over again.
Did he ever really stop?
No, he thinks, and hardly finishes breathing out, “I do,” before leaning forward to kiss Albedo's smile right off his lips.
Albedo meets Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon in the same evening, with the former of the three leaving such an impression that Albedo talks to him, later, about the possibility of creating a mini ruin guard figure for the boy.
“Taking inspiration from Sandrone, are we?” Kaeya teases. Albedo makes a face at him.
He just laughs, turning to watch Childe fuss over Anthon's crooked bowtie. When he finally deems it fixed, he looks up, and only then does Kaeya notice a distinct redness to the corner of his eyes.
“Did you cry?” Kaeya asks. Childe blinks at him, taken off guard, before his cheeks darken and he scoffs harshly.
“For you? No way.”
“He did cry,” Tonia pipes up, rocking back and forth on her heels as mischief swirls inside her blue eyes. “A lot.”
Kaeya holds out a hand. Beside him, there is a soft huff before Albedo places thirty mora in his palm.
Childe gapes. “Did you bet on me?”
“No,” he lies, and presses twenty mora into Tonia's hands with a wink and a sly grin to match her own.
“Thirty mora,” Albedo says, a smirk dancing across his lips as he nudges Kaeya forward to where Pierro is waiting in the center of the dance floor.
“You’ll be the death of me,” Kaeya responds.
Still, he goes.
“It’s simpler than I assumed it would be,” Pierro tells him as they dance. He’s not a bad one by any means, but his brow is furrowed in concentration, a testimony to how long it’s been since he last did anything like this.
“Albedo likes simple things,” Kaeya says with a shrug. “And I don’t mind them.”
“Your consistent flair for dramatics says otherwise,” Pierro deadpans. Kaeya lets himself chuckle. Their feet knock together briefly as they step in practiced circles; an easy waltz that Kaeya had learned long ago.
“To be fair,” he says lightly, “Signora planned most of this. With input from Childe, of course.”
Pierro's eyebrows raise at that, vaguely surprised. “The two of them?”
“Somehow,” Kaeya says with a laugh. “I was quite amazed as well. I didn’t think they'd actually manage it when I suggested working together.”
“Hm,” is all Pierro responds with. He squeezes Kaeya's hand, very gently, and slowly brings him closer, until Kaeya can feel the warm press of his cheek against the side of his head. “You’ve always had a habit of sowing miracles.”
The statement is sudden, and has something balling up tight in Kaeya's throat. It’s funny, really, how just those simple words are enough to have emotion welling up in his chest, his eyes stinging.
Impulsively, he rests his head against Pierro’s shoulder, letting himself lean into the comforting warmth of his body. He hasn’t done this since he was a child, but Pierro doesn’t make him stop.
“You sound like you're going to cry,” he says, half-joking. It doesn’t come out that way.
Pierro hums again. The vibration in the sound spreads into Kaeya’s chest, running all the way to the tips of his fingers.
“Perhaps,” Pierro admits, though there is a watery quality to his voice and the hand on Kaeya's lower back presses him just barely closer. “I’m simply… proud of you, that’s all.”
Kaeya says nothing, and Pierro squeezes his fingers again, as if he knows.
“I’m always proud of you,” he continues, his voice a low murmur. “I hope you know that.”
Emotionally stunted fools, Kaeya thinks. There’s a lump in his throat, but he doesn't try to swallow it down; he lets it stay.
“Thanks,” he whispers. He turns his face into Pierro’s shoulder so the tears don’t run down his cheeks.
Kaeya hands Albedo thirty mora, later, when they’re sitting in their rooms opening wedding gifts.
Albedo doesn’t say anything. He just smiles as if he had known all along, lifting a handful of sakura blooms to blow into his face. In response, Kaeya picks up the nearest pillow to hit him with, purple petals fluttering down around them like confetti.