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“You’ve been rejecting our invitations for months now, Aether. Don’t tell me you think we’re the handsy types when we’re drunk. I swear on Diluc’s hatred for the Fatui,” Kaeya smiled, placing a hand on his chest, the other raised in a pledge as Rosaria rolled her eyes and Venti clapped him on.
Rejection wasn’t the word Aether would use to describe what he was doing, in fact, he’d call it avoiding them purposely. Today just happened to be the day that he (read: they) caught him off guard.
It was supposed to be a quiet day, no Paimon, no near-death experiences, and no people asking him to save their country. A day of cataloging returned books in the Favonius Library was what he signed up for, Lisa was the best company he could ask for, especially when she didn’t put her mask of horny cougar on.
Aether showed up the day before, exhausted and angry, his wounds freshly bandaged, whale hunting wasn’t on his bucket list, but when has anything he’s done in the past years been? Everything was noisy, too noisy. He asked Paimon to let him have a few days to himself, he loved her dearly, but quiet wasn’t a word in his life when she was around.
Telling Lisa why he was there was the plan, unfortunately, his voice wouldn’t cooperate, instead, he felt like a toddler, gesturing wildly with his hands, opening his mouth, closing it again, frustration building as sweat ran cold. Instead of laughing or saying something inappropriate like she usually would, she pulled him to her chest, and held him in her arms for what felt like an eternity. When she let go of him, she sighed, “Why don’t you help me reshelve these books, sweetie?”
And he did. He turned off his brain for the next thirty hours, letting thoughts haunt him for the last few months, an unending chatter of what-ifs and whys, and what-the-fucks. For the first time in months, he didn’t have to think about an impending flood and his self-given expectations to solve it on his own.
Lisa came to check on him occasionally, bringing him a cup of tea, telling him to take a break, and sitting across from him as she read a book. He supposed she probably felt responsible for him, seeing as he didn’t stop even late into the night. Sucrose, Albedo, and Jean came by and chatted with him, each looking for something they were missing.
Sucrose was looking for an alchemy book to settle a mild disagreement between her and Timaeus. Aether had to restrain himself from petting her, ever since Gorou let himself be pet, he’d been rather curious how other people with animalistic characteristics would feel, so far, Tighnari smirked at him like he thought it inevitable and Wriothesley narrowed his eyes at his request, the latter was more of a prank, but for a man who seemingly spent most of his time getting rough in the ring or writing up paperwork in his office, his hair was softer than a feather pillow. Sucrose looked terribly adorable as she tried not to sound petty or mildly invested in her stand-off with Timaeus. Still, Aether went back to work.
Jean came by looking for Lisa, it was almost midnight, and they were having tea together, the smile on her face as she greeted them offsetting the dark circles under her eyes. He had to stifle in a laugh. The concern on Jean’s face when she walked through the door, the way her eyebrows knit together, her mouth open, ready to scold Lisa for staying up that late (even though she had done the same), and immediately softened when she saw Lisa with Aether. Aether only had one word to describe it all, love.
His last visitor didn’t look too excited or worried. Rather, he looked murderous. It was the most emotion Aether’s seen on his face, after all, Albedo and he was cut for the same cloth, quiet and unassuming, yet Albedo was always more assertive with his wants while Aether usually let Paimon or Lumine decide for him. He was looking for Kaeya, who somehow slipped away after they had fornicated, Albedo’s words not his, explaining his disheveled self and the marks along his neck, he was apparently worried that Kaeya might’ve been treating him like some sort of floozy, Aether’s words, he could have when he wanted to. Aether had enough of Kaeya’s drunk ramblings about Albedo’s mesmerizing sparkle and fluffy hair, Kaeya’s words, to know none of Albedo’s fears were true. He spent the early hours of the morning trying to console Albedo until he finally convinced him.
Aether supposes he could blame this all on Albedo. Apparently, after their talk, Albedo came back to their home and proceeded to have “the most mind-blowing sex” with his partner, out of respect, Aether held back from gagging in front of Kaeya’s enthusiastic tale. He swore that the people of Teyvat were way too open about their sex lives than any he’d ever met. Asking Aether out for a few drinks was Kaeya’s way of thanking him.
Aether wished he could say no, he really did, but the warning in Lisa’s eyes when he looked to her for help told him otherwise. She probably thought it better for him to get out of the library after being cooped up for forty hours straight. And he really couldn’t argue, Rosaria had been twirling her knife a bit too close to his throat to be anything but a threat.
Looking to Venti, who blinks in confusion, he gestures for a hair tie, he’d given up on the braid long before he walked through the gates of the city, letting it flow messily as he hadn’t bothered fixing it, opting to push it back instead. Venti giggles, tearing off the ties around his braids and offering them to Aether.
With an eye roll, he fixes himself in a high pony, dusts himself off, and nods, “Excellent! Let’s get Master Diluc’s finest wine to celebrate Aether breaking his abstinence from alcohol and having fun with friends!”
He bounced off happily, Rosaria trailing behind, not without smiling smugly at Aether of course, and Kaeya soon turned to follow. In truth, while Aether hadn’t been accepting their invites for the past year, he had many a card night at Lambad’s with Alhaitham and the others, wasting away at the alcor with Beidou and the crew as they watched drunk Kazuha stumble about, and of course, his most recent conquest of trying to get the Iudex drunk with Furina as his partner in crime.
But they didn’t need to know that, not that he’d ever intentionally lie to them of course, if they asked, he’d speak honestly. He mentally scolds himself to stop thinking too much, it is time to unwind and relax. To have some stupid fun.
“Oh, and Aether, if you still have doubts about whether this night will prove to be fun, rumor has it that our darling bard has set his eyes on someone, but he hasn’t spilled who,” with a grin on his face that said, “Yeah, I know what you want.”
He didn’t like admitting anything out loud, especially not what Kaeya’s words implied about him. Aether was definitely not interested in knowing who the anemo archon was crushing on, despite what Paimon would tell others, Aether was definitely not a gossip, but if one happened to know why Ganyu and Keqing broke up or who the Tianquan was seeing, well, he’d reason that it just came with the profession.
Someone caught the eye of Lord Barbatos, definitely not something he’d let slip to the ears of a certain nosy funeral parlor consultant.
PAGEBREAKWHORES
“Two bottles of your finest dandelion wine, Master Diluc! Chop, chop!” Aether couldn’t help the eye roll that came when Venti was being cheeky, yet despite the ludicrous request, Diluc only grunted and served their table four shot glasses and the two bottles.
There was something heated about the way Diluc looked at their group as he set them down, his eyes lingering on Kaeya who was sitting next to Venti. Probably more sibling angst that Aether would rather not have to deal with all night, sibling angst was one of his main reasons for even staying in this world.
Kaeya seemed unaffected though, even blowing Diluc a joking kiss as he walked away, if this is what afterglow looks like, he’d rather never have sex again, granted the last person he had sex with was… well that was a story for another day, tonight was about prying Venti’s dirty little secret.
They raised a toast to Lord Barbatos, Rosaria mispronouncing it proudly and Venti giving him a knowing glance with a girlish giggle, twirling his unbraided hair between his fingers. They were sat in the back corner of the tavern, Aether’s back facing the counter and Venti his direct opposite, Rosaria on his right, and Kaeya on the other.
“So, asshat, I hear there’s trouble in paradise? Scratch that, I saw your trouble in paradise this morning, and he was cursing your name,” Aether didn’t see her move her hand at all, but her glass was empty before he could even blink.
The cavalry captain scoffed, “I went out to have a smoke, I didn’t realize he must’ve not seen me go out to the balcony because the next thing I know, he’s gone, the only difference was a book on the floor, that usually meant he was mad at me for something.”
Venti and Rosaria laugh, but Aether knew from experience that it was true. Albedo isn’t human like the rest of them are, he’s not even immortal like Venti is. Kaeya and Klee were the first people Albedo grew to care for, and he found it hard to express himself as openly as others did. Sometimes though, in Aether’s expert opinion, he would express a bit too much emotion, which usually meant a book tossed to the floor forgotten or his braid tied an inch or two lower than usual.
Okay, so maybe not a lot, but it was a lot for Albedo, Aether concludes.
They fall into easy conversation, mostly Kaeya singing Albedo’s praises or Rosaria complaining about Barbara’s uptight rules for her, Aether taking in all the information and Venti starting to make a dent in the bottle he’d claimed for himself.
It isn’t a conventional group of friends at the pub, Aether wonders what the punchline is, “A god, an outlander, a nun, and a knight walk into a tavern…”
Not that it mattered, they were all pretty well known here, after all, paradoxes stop being paradoxes if they happen often enough, so is he even an outlander at this point? He’s been traveling the world for several years now, after all. Aether sighs and takes his first sip.
The wine tastes bitter at first, but he lets it sit in his mouth before the sweet, honeyed memory overtakes his taste buds. It reminds Aether of the promise he made to Ayato a few months ago, he had invited him to join a celebration after a successful subversion of a particularly nasty group of bandits. A small gathering, only around a dozen people, drinking the night away. Ayato offered them all a bottle of dandelion wine, a gift he’d received from the Kanjou Commission, claimed to have been exported from Mondstadt, though, they soon found out it wasn’t at all authentic.
He promised the lord that he’d get him an authentic bottle if he had the chance, although it was less of a promise and more of an implied threat from the man, an action that would dissuade most people away from the man, yet Aether knew from experience his words were never serious. Now was probably a good time to ask Diluc for a bottle.
Looking to his sides and as he thought, the two were still in deep conversation, something about “killing” and “deaconess”, so business as usual with the two. He nodded to Venti, who was strangely staring at him in a trance, usually, it took more for the bard to get drunk, but Aether didn’t particularly want to obsess about it now, he needed to do business before he got too hammered.
Excusing himself, he gets up and walks to the main bar, finding Diluc red-faced, furiously scrubbing a glass with a towel. Aether’s sort of afraid to piss him off more, an angry Diluc wasn’t fun to chat with, but he still had to get that bottle. So he decided to wait until Diluc noticed him, standing directly across from the man as he continued to clean the glass as if to pound in someone’s face, making Aether wince every few seconds.
Regardless, something seemed different with the man, despite his current exterior appearance. Aether would know. Not despite, maybe because of Diluc’s nature, Aether felt naturally drawn to him, he always had that tough-guy exterior with a heart of gold like he was some sort of billionaire vigilante clad in black, orphaned at a young age, and only wanted to protect, although misguided at times, civilians. He also had a maid as his closest confidante.
So maybe he reminds Aether of a superhero from a previous world? The man literally wore a black mask so that he wouldn’t be “recognized”, a dark knight hero his ass, if the superhero wasn’t a fictional character in that world, Aether would seriously think that someone was playing a sick joke on him like he was in a parallel universe made by some amateur writer. Gross. Thankfully, that was this world’s only similarity to that one.
But Aether does mean it. Diluc’s sincerity may seem erratic, self-serving, and even nonexistent to others, but Aether knew better. Has the man-made terrible mistakes in his life? Obviously, but his genuine sorrow and want to make amends, Aether just wants to hug the guy like he would a dog.
Plus… he’s exactly like her. Stubborn, bossy, demeaning, and honestly a little mean. But always, always shows how much she cares when it matters. His heart aches for the brothers. One day, he hopes… He knows that they will reconcile because even through all the snide comments they make about each other, there is a lingering concern that only comes from people who care for each other.
Aether smiles. The first time in a while. And his mind wanders.
Furina laid heavy on his mind, how much he wished he could do more for her, but in the end, he could only watch as she chose her path. Five hundred years is a long time to wait, Aether knew that firsthand, but she doesn’t have that anymore.
The Wanderer, his deep regret for erasing himself. Aether could still hear his sobs, even then, it seems, he still had hope that the Raiden Shogun would look at him and give him what he so wished for.
Dainsleif, although Aether only saw him once a year or so, had watched that man as he held his dying friend for the last time, giving him a promise he couldn’t keep. Dainsleif would never admit it, but he did care for Aether’s sister.
So many other lives Aether failed to save or help. He would always outlive them, watching as they turned 30, celebrating like it was the night of their lives, and in the blink of an eye, he was being invited to their funeral.
Existentialism always hits Aether at his worst, to a person like Aether or Lumine, time didn’t pass the same way it did for mortals, everything feels, felt, so much quicker to them. Hence why he’s rejected so many advances, he wouldn’t be able to help the constant fear of one day waking up, and suddenly his love’s gone.
He detested it.
Humans live such short lives, rather him living for so long. He envied them so. Mortality was a gift, for what is immortality worth when you have no one to spend it with? Especially when Lu—
“Aether,” he snaps back to reality, Diluc had snapped his fingers across his face, and he had finally set the glass down, giving his full attention to Aether who must’ve been standing there glaring at him.
“Uh, sorry.” His voice is sheepish, unpracticed, he hadn’t spoken a word in days. It sounds more like a squeak, only adding to his embarrassment.
Diluc nods, he doesn’t pry, he never does. But the worry in his eyes said otherwise. Aether smiles, it’s less forced than the ones he’s been giving to people, but still looks a bit strained, the blond feels relieved as Diluc merely nods.
The larger man tilts his head, a silent question that only they shared, Aether gestured to a bottle on the shelf, grabbing a pouch of mora from his pocket and placing it in front of Diluc, “Two bottles?”
There was no need to answer, “P them up later. Don’t want Venti to coax them out of you,” the annoyance in his voice wasn’t the only emotion Aether noticed, like there was a but of subtext that he was missing, if Aether didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like fondness.
Ignoring that, he bows gratefully and gestures back to their table, turning around to go back, “Wait, take this, on the house,” he’s handed an expensive-looking bottle, “don’t tell them about how you got it, okay? I don’t need them getting the wrong idea.”
Well, what idea are they supposed to have? Even Aether doesn’t understand the slight redness on his cheeks, as of this moment, Aether had no clue what Diluc was smoking.
Going back to the table, bottle in hand, the conversation is as lively as ever. Rosaria boasted about her perfect hunt on Dragonspine, which usually never meant animal. Kaeya was laughing, the bottle on the table toppled and empty, everything was like he left it except for Venti.
“Wuff!”
Of all the things the God of the Wind was known to do, barking and growling in a German accent wasn’t something Aether was aware of. He seemed to have a glare fixed on Aether, specifically on his hand that was clenching the bottle. He understood that he was trying to look menacing but being shitfaced drunk does nothing for his scariness.
Instead, he looked more like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
Aether narrows his eyes judgmentally and places the bottle next to the bard’s head, which had been laid on the table ever since Aether got back. Venti looked at him, then at the bottle, and him again, before pulling the bottle close to his head in an almost possessive manner.
Venti still doesn’t let up on the glaring, in fact, he now bared his teeth. Truly, a one-of-a-kind archon, incomparable to all the others.
Weird. As he sits, it finally dawns on him, what he’s actually here for. Venti’s boy toy. Venti. He had completely forgotten about the promised gossip. Paimon would probably throw him off a cliff if he didn’t get the juice.
He tugs at Kaeya’s sleeve and gestures to the still-growling bard, and his blue eyes light up with a mischievous sparkle, “I heard that someone’s been getting some lately~”
The way Venti’s eyes widen, and his cheeks turn a deeper shade are almost comical, “U-Uh, who? Rosaria? Y-Yeah obviously, you go girl.”
Aether shook his head, he’s being too obvious about it, “I’m a nun, I’m a celibate worshipper of Lord Barbiesauce, remember?” At this point, Aether couldn’t tell if Rosaria mispronouncing “Barbatos” was serious or not.
“Venti…” Kaeya started, Venti doesn’t dare look him in the eye, shaking his head as if to say, “Fuck no,” it’s like he’s pretending that the “someone” really wasn’t him, despite his obvious behavior.
It goes on like this, Venti being pestered on both sides as Rosaria and Kaeya both try to pry the truth from his lips. And once again Aether’s left to stare deeply into Venti’s eyes as he dodges every poke and question about his relationship status.
Venti’s smile is anything but kickable, maybe because he’s drunk or more likely because he just likes being annoying to look at. At least he stopped glaring at Aether, instead whistling mysteriously as he dodges the questions easily, like he practiced it a hundred times before.
Huh.
Aether has a realization he probably should have all those years ago when they saved Mondstadt from Dvalin, the Anemo Archon is also the god of deception. Or at least, he had powers of illusion. The holy lyre and his vision, a show of his power. He probably should’ve thought more about it before, Nahida the god of knowledge could see into people’s minds and manipulate their dreams, and Ei could create separate dimensions.
Somehow, these “superpowers” (Yeah, he still wasn’t over the Diluc and superhero similarities), reflected on their stake over their “attribute” as gods. An eternal, unending dimension made for the Raiden Shogun, access to all knowledge and thought for Lesser Lord Kusanali, and tricks and illusions for Lord Barbatos.
The other two clearly related to what they claimed to be the god over, yet how is Venti’s power part of “freedom”? Knowing Venti, even if Aether asked, he’d probably dodge the question entirely, or claim he had no clue. He’ll ask Nahida or Zhongli, he decides.
He stares deeply into Venti’s eyes and realizes another truth. For being the archon he’s known the longest, he knows just as much, or even less of Venti’s past. Especially considering he still doesn’t know the full story of how Venti ended the Archon war.
Barbatos was the last to take his seat. Something that should probably set more alarm bells ringing in Aether’s brain. Sure, that could mean that he literally was the only one left, or that he… he doesn’t finish the thought, he doesn’t want to. Sins from 2000 years in the past, how could he be the judge of something lost to time?
Morax held the regrets of his yaksha and loved ones in his memory, Beelzebul is haunted by the thousands of lives she’s ruined, Buer’s predecessor stretched herself thin trying to protect Nabu Malikata’s and King Deshret’s legacies, Egeria lost herself and ended up dooming her successor. Aether can’t help but wonder, how does Barbatos, and Venti remember the stories of pain forever carved into him?
Especially now that he’s decided to form a relationship with a mortal. History proves that even gods, the seven, weren’t truly immortal, maybe that’s what Venti’s trying to do. Hoping to erode before time takes away his loved ones, how ironic for the god who triumphed over time to still be shackled by it.
To Aether, he and the gods had more similarities than he and the mortals, but these gods, eventually fade away, Aether hopes that he’s granted that same mercy one day. He’s watched too many leave him, thousands of stories forgotten by time but not by him. Every last one of his friends from the other worlds turned to dust in a blink of an eye, he would tell Paimon that he and his sister traveled many worlds for adventure, but that wasn’t the whole truth.
None lived long enough, it was the same everywhere, and when they did find people who lived longer, they usually turned out to be people Aether found morally detestable. Breaking hearts wasn’t something he signed up for, but it was inevitable, there must’ve at least been a few hundred that Aether’s rejected due to their unfortunate lifespan.
A couple of them Aether really did care for, he wanted nothing more than to settle down with the mischievous woman who’d get up to all sorts of nonsense to try and impress him or the exhilarating man of few words, stoic but caring as he asked Aether to elope with him.
He was in love with them both. Two different worlds, two different times in his life, yet the same circumstance that bound him to say the words “I’m sorry” over and over again. Aether laughed, it was silly, he remembers getting the invitation to their weddings, and he thought, “Huh, I really am just an outsider,” his sister consoled him every time.
He even remembers the way the woman’s grandchildren adored him, then their children, until his love was taken once again by time and he would move on to the next world with his sister.
Longing for mortality seemed so stupid to them all, but Aether knew better. Humans don’t know what they want, because a life of immortality brought nothing but pain. Watching everything change while you stay the same forever is unbelievable torture. Aether wished he could change with them, but he is an outsider.
“Hey, why are you looking so glum, little man?” Rosaria asked, chugging the wine down like it was water.
Her tone was always indifferent, or pointed, mostly both—but on rare occasions, she shares a few emotions, despite what may come out of her mouth, she does care about them. Even Barbara. Rosaria had reached an arm out and patted his shoulder in reassurance.
Hmm. Aether laughs. It’s stupid, thinking like this, when what truly matters is what’s in front of him, the present. Plus, some of the people he knew now are immortal, and they weren’t all terrible people, and the thought made him feel at ease.
Ever since she left, he’d been feeling strange, it was the first time in centuries that he and his sister were apart, and the dreadful, imminent thought of being alone in this new world he couldn’t even escape from made him want to shrivel up in a hole.
Then Paimon came, but Aether was still not sure what the fuck Paimon is or if she even is, so the fear of loneliness didn’t really go away, again, was she immortal? Aether doesn’t really bother to understand.
“I’m okay, Rosaria, thanks,” he gives her a grin that could rival the shit-eating one Venti had plastered.
She grunts, a woman of the cloth, she claims. Selfish and proud was what she boasted to the city, yet she gave everything for them. Venti once told Aether, he loved all his children, even when they fell astray. Maybe that’s why he didn’t put up much of a fight against La Signora, or maybe he was just that pathetic. But the way Venti looked at Rosaria, there was absolutely no doubt in Aether’s mind that he loved Rosaria like all of his people.
Rosaria may never know the truth about Venti’s identity, yet Aether is sure that she knows she is loved by the people, for this was the “City of Freedom, where anyone could get shit-faced at the tavern and fuck the bartender while they’re at it,” A metaphor surely. Venti had pitched the idea to Jean but thankfully, Diluc stepped in before the god could swindle her to make it the slogan of the city.
Truly, Venti had given the people the gift of not ruling them.
But yes, most of the people (the ones Aether actually gives a shit about), hold the deepest of respects for Rosaria’s thankless work, only thankless for she scared the people she helped out of thanking her.
The night goes on, Kaeya still trying to pry Venti’s dirty little secret from his mouth, ironically, as he grew drunker, his lips grew tighter. Rosaria shared another story of her trip to Sumeru, “It was fine,” she decided. Aether shared a story of the Fortress of Meropide, the prison of Fontaine, about how the criminals formed a community amongst themselves and many chose to stay even after their sentence was over, and how Aether had one of the best lays of his life.
“So, the Duke and the Iudex are in an open relationship you say?” Aether nods, “Hmm, maybe I can convince Albedo into a foursome.”
It was less of an “open relationship” and more like if the two agree on someone they want to bed, then they invite them for a night of sensuality. Aether never did engage in romantic relationships, yet the casual hookup every few months did wonders for his stress. And he never expected both to be submissive little bitches in bed, and there Aether was prepared to take both of them on at the same time.
Still a wonderful night despite his prepping completely going unrewarded.
Now, Aether had a secret, he couldn’t get drunk. Being immortal didn’t also mean never aging, he also needed to be free of viruses or illnesses that could threaten him. In simple terms, his body processes alcohol faster than his brain can catch up, it registered it as a poison, therefore seeking to eliminate it quickly.
In theory, Aether could get hammered if he really wanted to, it would just take chugging a few bottles in quick succession. He’d already tried to, a year ago, with Beidou and her whole crew. It did not end well, he lay incapacitated in bed for a week, not drunk, just extremely uncomfortable.
Besides, Venti was full-on snoring now, Kaeya looked ready to keel over and start barfing, and Rosaria started staring at the wall in a trance. They all seemed to be at their limit, so Aether decides, “Maybe it’s time to call it a night, we are the only people left in the tavern.”
Aether might’ve been too lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t even register that the place got quieter, it was only the four of them. Well, them and Diluc, who took it upon himself to finally abandon that glass and instead clean the emptied tables with overexaggerated grunts.
“I suppose that is right, Albedo,” Kaeya speaks, “let’s go home and fuck like in that book you were reading. Like a fucking eagle.”
He then burst out in giggles, presumably about the “fucking eagle”, truly, the height of intellect. Usually, Kaeya mistook everyone for Albedo, so Aether wasn’t really sure if he was talking to him or not, he was literally staring at a bottle of wine.
Good enough, he thinks, “I’ll take care of Kaeya, bro. It’s like, totally cool. Yep.” Rosaria’s slurring voice meant she still had a bit of sobriety left in her to get them both home safely.
“See you yesterday tonight, Aether,” Rosaria nods to herself as if answering her own question. She stands up, and attempts to ruffle Aether’s hair, but instead rubs his shoulder. That’s fine. She walks around him, grabs Kaeya by the arm, and quite literally starts dragging him off.
Aether watches as if mesmerized by her effortless show of strength. Soon, they get to the door, and with one last wave to Aether (at least he assumed so, she waved to a board on the wall not him) she slams the door behind her, and Aether’s left with a drunk god.
Maybe Aether should’ve specified that she should take him as well. He could send him to his teapot, but he kinda promised Alhaitham that he could have the house to himself. Apparently, Cyno and Kaveh wanted to try some really kinky shit and Tighnari didn’t want to disturb the neighbors with the noise. So, in exchange for a favor from each of them, Aether let them have the dimension for a week.
And considering Venti’s current constitution, he hazards a guess that Venti didn’t want to wake up to an orgy. Or maybe he did. “Fuck…” Venti moaned in his sleep. Huh. How on topic.
He could always take him to his hotel room, but Paimon might be there, three people in one bed didn’t sound like fun. It was already cramp with just him and Paimon anyway.
There’s a creak against the floorboard right behind him.
Aether’s eyes sharpen, his reflexes kicking in as his sword materializes in is right hand, and just as he’s about to swing, a heavy hand grasping his shoulder. Diluc. He forgot he was still here. It’s like his presence completely disappeared for a few minutes. It’s one of the more impressive things Aether’s experienced, for a man of his stature and size to hide himself so perfectly that it has the blonde’s heart pounding in suspense.
“Sorry about that,” he pats him softly before going around the table to Venti’s side, “no need to look so suspicious. Here, get him on my back.”
Confused, Aether reluctantly goes to help. Carrying the fairly weightless god atop his back. Diluc grunts as he stands, carefully holding his legs as he walks towards the space below the staircase. He reaches for the trapdoor Aether swears he hasn’t seen on his previous visits and pulls it up, revealing a staircase descending to a basement.
“Come on, follow me,” he beckoned as he disappeared from Aether’s periphery. Usually, from Aether’s personal experience, this either led to a sex dungeon, a serial killer den, or something completely normal—with the first two being more likely than the last.
Aether trusted Diluc enough to not be the second thing at least, so thankfully, he didn’t need to worry about a fight. At least that metered his expectations,
What he didn’t expect to see was a fairly normal bedroom. A queen-sized bed, a bookshelf stocked with texts relating to music, a study table with a lamp and a basket of fruits, and a beautiful teal rug to tie the room together. Overall, a classic Mondstadtian room, the only thing seemingly out of place is an open closet stocked with not only outfits presumably Diluc would wear but also taking two-thirds of the space were much smaller outfits. Oh, and the giant fucking aquarium that took up the wall on the far side of the room.
Then it all clicks. What a fucking dumbass he was, it was fucking obvious all night.
“You’re Venti’s boyfriend,” he states, Diluc only now finished fussing over Venti on the bed, tucking him in slowly and peppering chaste kisses on his forehead.
The redhead turns to him and nods, a smile Aether’s never seen on the man now decorates his lips. It’s a bit unnerving, the genuine love he emanates. So unlike the Diluc that Aether knew, the Diluc he always thought he was underneath it all.
Aether’s left gesturing wildly with his hands, to the room, to Venti, to anything he could. Out of all the suitors in the city, Diluc felt the most unlikely to Aether, but maybe that is why he’s the most likely. Venti does spend most of his time here at the pub, yet Aether never considered…
The lingering looks from Diluc to Kaeya and Venti staring at Aether for uncomfortable periods, it wasn’t meant for them, they were meant for each other. He really should’ve known from Venti’s constant remarks about “fucking a bartender until he cries.” He was left blindsided when the two weren’t even trying to hide it.
“We started officially dating a year ago, right around Weinleisefest, but we’ve been on and off for a while,” Diluc brushes Venti’s hair away from his face, “though if we’re being honest, we would’ve probably started sooner if we figured that out faster.”
Before Aether could ask what, Venti suddenly shoots from his position, using Diluc’s arm as leverage to pull himself up. As he positions himself, he doesn’t let go of the arm, opting instead to keep cuddling against it.
He yawns, “We Gods of Teyvat aren’t immortal in the normal sense. We can die, erode, and even fade away,” he pauses to peck his lover’s lips, “so I asked myself whether there was a chance I could go back to being a mortal.”
What.
“I know, it’s really dramatic. I talked it over with Morax, Alice, and Buer, and needless to say, we may have found a solution,” Aether couldn’t speak.
Venti only laughed at his surprise, like he knew this was coming, “My friends from the Hexenzirkel once sought immortality, like a millennia ago, so obviously, they got what they wanted. So, we theorized that there must be a way to do the opposite, after all, I am in a human body, so it would only be trying to figure out how to restart the aging process and I’d basically be human.”
He made it sound so simple, every time Aether comes to learn more of Venti’s life, he only grows more mysterious, Diluc continues for him, “Anyway, long story short, we’re trying to get in contact with the Hydro Sovereign, find some remnants of Lord Decarabian, and yada yada mortality, yeah?”
“I already gave up my godhood two thousand years ago, I was never fit to rule, and clearly, the knights and the church can handle the country themselves, you understand?”
Aether takes a minute to process everything he’s learned, then his heart shatters. His words gave him so much despair, something he didn’t really want. He’s happy for them both, but he...
He doesn’t know what to say, when, to be frank, he usually doesn’t say anything.
What did they expect them to say, it all sounded insane yet reasonable. Morality didn’t matter, Venti’s a god, of course, he was going to be older than Diluc, but he also just woke up a couple of years ago. Should he commend Venti? Then what?
As far as the people of Mondstadt would know, Barbatos would still be alive, what would they do with that predicament? Can’t really worship a dead god—oh wait, right, Watatsumi Island and the Red Sand. Orobaxi and King Deshret have long been dead, yet their people lived on, and what does that say about Venti himself? Abandoning his people who already thought he abandoned them?
And what of the other archons? What would they think of someone just abandoning their thrones—except that Zhongli and Focalors already did? What would they Jean, and what if…
What if Aether was missing the smaller picture?
There are so many questions swirling in Aether’s mind, but they all come back to one answer, it doesn’t matter. None of it does, because he was just a bystander in their stories, he helps them along the way, but ultimately, he exists outside of them. This is what Venti and Diluc want, regardless of the consequences, and there’s nothing he can do.
And maybe, maybe just a small part of Aether is… is jealous. Venti was getting what Aether’s always wanted, what he’s been searching for centuries now, in thousands of worlds, watching his friends disappear right in front of his eyes.
How had they found the answer when Aether couldn’t even begin with the question?
He hates this, he feels gross, that he’d envy his friend whom he knows sacrificed so much of his life for everyone around him, but that’s how he felt. And maybe this feeling would never change, not even if he so desperately wants it to because he knows that the only way that he’d get rid of this sick depravity in him is to be granted his greedy wish.
Some friend he is, he can’t even feel fully happy for them without being spiteful. He wishes the best for them, but he can’t help the overwhelming pain in his chest as he sees that look in Venti’s eyes. So full of love, and hope, and everything Aether wishes he had. But to burden them with his own fucked up thoughts is the worst thing he could do or say, so instead he tilts his head and speaks.
“Okay,” he whispers, a weak smile on his face as a tear so minuscule he wonders if it's actually there drips down his face, for now, that was the answer.