#yoimix.hc

[yoimix]

genshin men + sleepless nights

ft. diluc, xiao, kaveh

playlist. afterglow - taylor swift ; like real people do - hozier ; kiss goodnight - i don’t how but they found me

[ tw: nightmares, suggestive ]

✽ diluc is well-acquainted with nightmares. he often wakes up in the quiet of the night to dreadful noise inside his head, grating, punishing him for the past. but now that he instead meets your soft touch and warm breath, he finds himself calming down easier. i’ll keep you safe. he’s said that to you before, in the heat of battle. only recently did he discover you’re keeping that promise when the flames have died down. the world is cruel, but despite that, he will still love you. that is his promise to you. even through rapid, unsteady breathing, he seeks out the nook of your shoulder, pressing his forehead against your skin like you’re the magic remedy to his ailments. you shiver sometimes, mumbling that his hair tickles; it only makes him sigh in relief, and you hold yourself back from giggling maniacally at the sensation. you smooth his hair away from your neck but he only buries himself further in.

“diluc.”

“mhm.”

“now, you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

“why would i ever do that?”

you huff and diluc smiles, lips pressing against your neck in a flurry of soft kisses.

“diluc! that tickles,” you complain, weakly pushing his head away. a deep chuckle rumbles from him and he rises to finally meet your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he whispers, suddenly sincere.

“now you ask? after you’ve violated my poor neck like that?”

“you didn’t complain last time.” he raises an eyebrow.

“really, diluc?” you scoff. “where’s all this unbridled confidence coming from? usually you’d blush like a newly-wed bride the moment i whisper something in your ear.”

diluc rolls his eyes, a faint glow over his cheeks under the moonlight. “that’s not true. and... and i... i’m simply enjoying myself.”

you whistle. “mondstadt’s very own winery tycoon discovers the joys of teasing his lover in the dead of night. riveting.”

diluc sighs in exasperation, throwing his hands up. “can you not? you always tease me.”

“you’re so easy to tease.” you bite down your lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, his impulse fighting to take over the control he exerts.

he caves, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your mouth. his lips linger; one kiss, two kisses, till he has you pressed against his chest, his arms secure around your waist.

you pull away, before placing a quick kiss to his nose. none of the other kisses have the effect as this one, for his ears nearly spark with the rush of heat to his face.

“are you growing a stubble?” you bite down a teasing smile. “i don’t want my chin all itchy every time we kiss.”

he grimaces. “no. i’ll shave tomorrow. it makes me look too much like my father.”

you purse your lips. it’s the same quiet of winter as the one you met him in. he was a talented boy, and you, the bane of his existence. since then, many winters have passed, some cozy, some silly, and some lonely and grieving. the winery has dimmed (even diluc), but everything is always bright in your wide eyes, from the lush grapevines to the sunset-haired man. you’re both aware you cannot win against time. and so, just like him, you keep every postcard. 

“diluc,” you call, hesitant. “it’s not a bad thing.”

“i know,” he responds curtly. 

you never learned what to say. diluc never wants you to.

he holds your wrist, lifting it up to place your palm against his cheek again. it’s quiet. he breaks eye contact.

“i have regrets, (name). and they’re all because of... my ego.”

“diluc-”

when it rains, it pours.

“if only i were... if only i were a better man... if i were less cruel,” he whispers, remorse coating his tongue like ash. 

you smooth your thumb over his cheek, till he sighs. diluc meets your eyes with the glow of embers, soft and a little lost, maybe. 

“you’re a good man to me,” you say finally. “i think that’s a good start.”

diluc sighs again, snapping himself out of his daze. “and you’re too good to me.”

“who else will buy me sickly sweet flowers and get me the best dandelion wine in mondstadt?”

diluc rolls his eyes, taking your wrists once again to plant a kiss each against them.

“thank you, (name),” he says, a smile finally sprouting on his warm lips.

“of course, diluc,” you mumble. “you mean so much to me... anyway, shall we bake tomorrow? surely you can leave the abyss alone for the weekend.”

diluc blinks. “actually...”

your smile drops and he gulps, swallowing his words.

“yes,” he answers. “my schedule is clear tomorrow. but i’m... i’m not quite proficient with baking, my love.”

“that’s alright.” you wave your hand dismissively before going off on a tangent, on a path of words diluc’s quite familiar with. snapdragon flowers, dandelion seeds, sweet flower jam—you certainly have a wide knowledge of all of these. he’s seen you collect them for hours on end, your odd little baking experiments giving adelinde a heart attack. you’ve always been this way. after all these years, the winery thinks of you as fondly as he does.

diluc tucks your hair behind your ears, running his fingers through your hair once you’re snuggled up in bed again. you’re still mumbling about narrowing down which recipe to try tomorrow morning in a sleep-laced haze. diluc can’t get enough of it.

“you mean so much to me too,” he whispers.

✽ xiao is a warrior first and foremost, and everyone knows warriors can never sleep at night. for xiao, it’s a special case. his war is not a war people can thank him for, nor does he see an end to it. it is invisible to most, and his battle scars are the only monument to his acts of deliverance. but you... you, with your curious eyes and fickle fingers, always running your mouth about his tattoos and breaks in his schedule—is he supposed to open up so easily? is he supposed to sigh in relief at your animated explanations or get so drowsy on sunlit afternoons when you’re around? is he supposed to desperately want to hold you? perhaps he is, for his eyes always seek your figure, hands itching to drop his spear and take your hands instead. if he asks for forgiveness for all that he is, would you smile at him and pretend he is as human as you? no, he’s known you for months. you’d do something outrageously stupid—and it’d be the medicine to all his ailments.

“how is it my fault?” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“of course it’s your fault!” you huff. 

“i never prevented your... afternoon naps.”

“but you wouldn’t nap with me!” you throw your hands up, reasoning as though it’s common sense for him to know. “do you know how cold it was? i nearly shivered myself off the cliff!”

xiao feels a rush of blood to his cheeks, coughing to hide the hot discomfort.

“and now you refuse to sleep in my nice, warm bed, which i made very specifically for you. not that you care but it’s very comfortable. ahh, it’s good to be home once in a while.”

why are you advertising your bed to him? it’s not like he’s going to buy it. he doesn’t have mora anyway, nor will he ever need to carry it.

“i don’t need to sleep,” he states, re-emphasizing his point. “i am a yaksha.”

“i don’t care,” you grumble, sleeplessness clearly clawing at your brain. “you swore an oath to me.”

xiao blinks. “this was... this was not the oath. i said i’d come to you when you need me if you—”

“—call your name,” you interrupt, tapping your feet impatiently. “xiao. xiao. conqueror of demons. my dearly beloved. xiao. i need your help.”

xiao’s not sure when the terms of the contract spiraled into something like this. you are partners; a dashing young adventurer and a cynical yaksha who are already unlikely to be friends. since when have you grown so close to him? in fact, if he were to lean in...

absolutely not.

xiao straightens. he didn’t realize the physical proximity at first. 

“are you... teasing me?” he nearly spits poison with that question. though, you’d savor that poison like sweet wildberries.

“is it so strange to sleep beside me?” you take a step back, chewing on your lip. some things do deter you. despite being a hardy adventurer.

it’s already strange enough for me to sleep, he wants to say.

“will it make your night easier?” he asks quietly.

you brighten visibly. the moonlight pales when you look like that.

“alright,” he answers, staring at your brisk nodding. 

he sits hesitantly at the corner of your bed, looking up at you with innocuous eyes. you stand in front of him, lacking your usual movement like you’re still processing everything. for a moment, you look flustered. but it’s not like xiao can tell. on your face, everything looks sweet.

“i...i- uh...” you stutter. “i didn’t think i’d get this far.”

xiao raises an eyebrow.

“a-anyway. scoot. this is my favorite side.”

“you... humans have favorite sides?”

“well, some of us do. some of us don’t care. i happen to have one though so you’ll have to deal with it, mr yaksha.”

it’s not like he hasn’t dealt with worse. he drags his legs onto the bed and shifts awkwardly till he’s made space for you.

you jump into bed with the energy of a vishap hatchling, and the thought is so ridiculous he suppresses a smile. 

at first, there is peace. then you inch closer, like slower movement would fool his trained senses. he’s warned you before. karmic debt is not a trifling matter—and your weak skin and bones cannot withstand it. 

time has proved, however, that you are not as weak to him as he is to you.

“does it hurt?” you ask.

“hm?” he turns his head, caught off-guard.

“y’know...” you continue. “your fights. i’ve seen some nasty injuries. do they hurt?”

you’ve never asked him about his past. he’s numb to it now, but you never poke your head there. even if you’ve poked it nearly everywhere it shouldn’t be.

“not quite.”

not now.

perhaps baizhu has been going about the wrong way making medicine for him. or perhaps, you are an ingredient undiscovered by the medical world. 

“good.” you grin, and his heart flakes on him. all this from a smile? the conqueror of demons folding like a crumpled piece of paper? but it’s you, after all. he should know better. “if i hurt you, let me know.”

xiao chokes a little, words spawning and dying just as rapidly in his throat. what can he possibly say to you?

“maybe i won’t have nightmares anymore now,” you mumble, snuggling closer to his arm. it must be uncomfortable, xiao thinks. his arm, bone and muscle, was not made to be rested upon.

but you cling so dearly.

“you’ve been having nightmares?” he asks. he never asks you about your nights. at least directly. acute observation gets him most answers and you are not a difficult person to read. so your declaration truly leaves him puzzled.

you don’t answer immediately.

“(name)?”

“yeah. they make me uncomfortable. but nothing like a little fear to keep me on my toes, right?”

xiao gets what you’re saying, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. he’s not the kind to poke his nose into someone else’s business, but at this proximity your fresh, earthy smell mingles so perfectly into his own. is it still someone else’s business if you breathe as one, every exhale tangling into each others’?

“i could eat them.”

you pause to blink before snickering loudly, clutching your stomach. silence follows.

“wait, you’re serious?”

“yes.”

“of course. i should’ve known. uh... i don’t think you need to do that.”

“they don’t hurt me too much.”

“so they do hurt you?”

“...”

xiao purses his lips, trying not to meet your focused gaze. unfortunately, it lands on your sweet, plump lips. he immediately jerks his head to the side.

“i already told you,” you continue, paying no heed. “no more nightmares for me now.”

“you can’t be sure of that.”

“it’s scientifically backed,” you press, voice dropping to a comforting whisper, “that you fall asleep faster, and sleep much better with a loved one.”

does he constitute a loved one? xiao parts his lips and closes them.

“look at me.”

xiao can’t. he’s all too aware of the physical proximity, all too aware of your fingers drawing circles on his arms. you will not ask, he knows. but neither will he.

and sometimes you don’t need to.

you draw nearer to land a kiss on his cheek. it’s not a demanding touch, light as feather, in fact. but xiao feels blood rush to his head like never before.

“you- i- i think that- you look cute,” you manage to say out loud, not quite what you mean. “so... um... can you please look at me?”

xiao turns his head finally, to meet an expression he has never seen before. lips pursed, eyes flitting nervously, and chest heaving slow and unsteady. he’s seen this among mortals. never in you. 

and it’s strange to admit just how accustomed he’s become to mortal life.

xiao’s breath ghosts over your lips, hesitation still clawing at his throat. being a decisive fighter does not make him very decisive in other regards.

so, you do it for him. pressing your warm lips to his, you sigh just as he does, like the night is finally warm again. though his beating heart says otherwise, he feels so at peace for once that drowsiness settles on his eyelids and he draws even closer to you. relief is not a feeling he is accustomed to.

you pull away to place your head against his chest, squeezing his torso in a hug. he knows it’s a way of showing comfort. but he can’t possibly describe what he feels from that. can you do it again?

“will you come sleep here tomorrow night too?” a small smile plays on your lips when you face him.

“i suppose,” he answers.

“and the next?”

“mhm.”

“...and the next?”

xiao cannot help his smile.

“i swore an oath, did i not?”

✽ kaveh is too impatient to stay still in bed when he can’t sleep. he’d rather take advantage of his insomnia to work on the bubbles of inspiration that rise and fizz out as quickly as they come. but every time he’s lying beside you, he can’t bring himself to pry your arms away from his torso. it’d be sacrilege to wake you up, not when you look so quiet and peaceful, away from a world of dry commotions. and on nights you can’t sleep, he refuses to go to bed too. it is imperative to his sleep that you doze off beside him. he doesn’t need incessant proofs of his passion, and he doesn’t need the akademiya’s validation. all he wants is a life as soft and precious as you, like dew on padisarah in the early mornings he sleeps through. oh, all the things he would give up to have you sleeping soundly by his side this night, and the next, and the next. it aches to have you away.

“i can’t sleep, kaveh,” you mutter, annoyed.

“i know,” he responds, lips upturned. “this is the fifth time you’ve said it in the past twenty minutes.”

“you’re exaggerating,” you huff, tugging closer to his chest anyway. “i should not have stayed past six at puspa cafe.”

“ah. so whose fault is it that you can’t sleep?”

you scowl. “i thought the coffee wouldn’t have an effect on me. it wasn’t that strong.”

kaveh quietens, and for a moment, you worry he’s fallen asleep.

“shall we take a walk then? when i watch the city sleep, i want to fall asleep too.”

you pause before sitting up and following his lead, hand in weary hand. you make sure to be as quiet as mice, so as to not wake up kaveh’s sleeping roommate. usually, your boyfriend wouldn’t care. but it seems your considerate nature has taken a toll on him.

the smell of spices still wafts through the streets long after everyone has closed shop. the dogs have followed their owners home, and the strays are curled up by alleys and corners in a huddle of warmth. at least where you’re at, the two of you are the only souls treading the pavement, save for a few stragglers, cats prowling and students celebrating the end of finals. you can almost feel their relief, laughing with kaveh as you notice a young scholar holler in joy with his friends when an old lady immediately shuts them down to be quiet. 

“what was that about the city sleeping?” you hum, elbowing him.

“and you really thought you were immune to caffeine?” kaveh retorts, amusement playing on his lips.

“shut up.” you lightly punch his arm, which he, of course, reacts to overdramatically. to him, that’s the cutest ‘shut up’ he’s ever heard.

a fresh breeze passes by the two of you, making him step closer, shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

“lately,” he starts, ruby eyes lost in contemplation, “my team’s been researching the lost paradise of king deshret. they say he made a contract with the god of time to build an eternal oasis, all the wonders of the land frozen in a beautiful frame for the goddess of flowers. isn’t that lovely?”

“what’s so lovely about building a cemetery for someone you love?”

kaveh sighs. but when he opens his mouth, there is no answer. you hide a small smile as he thinks.

“well, it was to honor her passing... but you’re right. i’d rather honor the living.”

“well, king deshret also went mad. good to see you’re still sane.”

kaveh turns red. “i’m not joking! you see the beauty in all this, don’t you?”

a smile tugs your lips as you reach out to grab his face. “yes, of course. but more so in your face. and your hands. and your mouth. and your stupid little head with all its wild imaginations.”

“you tease me too much,” he huffs when you’re done planting rapid kisses to his face. his expression is something between a scowl and pout, hands comfortably over yours as they rest against his cheeks.

“do you dislike it?”

“i’m not answering that.”

your laughter is full of heart, and kaveh can’t help but join in, throwing his head back as he does.

saturday evenings are quiet at the center of the city; but the further you branch out towards the hubs, there are lively crowds waiting to greet you. your next destination is lambad’s tavern, stopping to grab a cup of water and converse with kaveh’s old classmates from the akademiya. it must be a ksharehwar thing to seemingly never sleep. 

kaveh’s so-called remedy to sleeplessness ends up turning into a catch-up session, sleep tossed out of the window. the warm glow of the tavern, however, makes you miss his bed more. perhaps his trick did work, in a strange, twisted way. but still, you don’t appreciate the long way around.

it takes a while before you can finally walk out the doors of the tavern—and the night simmers down again when you find him. looks like your boyfriend has made friends with the wood, as he rests his head on one of the outdoor tables of the tavern, all by himself. you feel a sting of guilt for holding him back from his sleep. it’s not easy, working day to day on as little sleep as he does. 

“kaveh,” you call.

he meets you with a dazed smile, clumsy and unsteady in the way he moves.

“did you drink when i wasn’t looking?” you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

he frowns immediately at your accusation, shoulders sagging. “can’t i be this way because of you?”

“well, it’s usually your drunken stupor.”

he huffs. “you’ll never know what you do to me if you keep your so-called logic wrapped so tight around your throat.”

“why? is there something else you’d rather have wr—”

“ahem.” kaveh flushes so deep, he’d put zaytun peaches to shame with that hue. “what i mean is. you don’t know the effect you have on me. it might as well be intoxication.”

you press your knuckle to your nose, trying to hide your smile. kaveh is quick to catch on, his grin widening.

“no, it must be intoxication,” he presses, moving closer to you with eyebrows furrowed. “i even get along with alhaitham these days. can you imagine?”

you giggle. “how frightening.”

kaveh leans in, his eyes shining prettier in the moonlight. if only you knew they open to reflect you. his expression eases and a smile blossoms.

“you make me see love everywhere,” he whispers, lips hesitantly hovering over yours. “and it is wonderful to feel that way. thank you.”

“oh gosh, you’re so... you say sickliest sweet things. it’s disgusting.”

before he can retort, you tug on the strawberry blond strands, pressing your lips to his. he does not let you pull away, his arm snug around your waist. with kaveh, the butterflies never die, natural when his lips taste of honey.

“for the record,” he slurs, drunk off your kiss more than any alcohol. “i would build you more than paradise. i would start laying the bricks for heaven if you asked.”

and you’d make sure he sleeps soundly instead each night he forces himself to work. he’s too sweet for his own good. in the city of wisdom, everyone knows the cost of love without labor. but your attempts to ensure his rest is your labor.

you laugh, patting his cheek. “how about you start laying the bricks to a house of your own?”

an instant pout tugs at his swollen lips. 

“oh, don’t get mad.” you cups his cheeks and pull his face to your level, pressing a feather kiss to his forehead. “i know times are hard for dreamers like you.”

“you make me sound so silly.”

“i’m sorry.” you caress your thumb over his cheek, worried you’ve overstepped in your teasing.

“no.” he smiles sheepishly. “i don’t mind being your silly boyfriend. if it makes you smile, at the very least.”

“you silly man.”

“you’re smiling.”

“is the victory satisfying?”

“sort of...” his voice drops to a cheeky whisper as he leans in close to your ear. “but the rest of the night can be... more so.”

“kaveh. we’re in public!”

“what, it’s not like it’s a secret. alhaitham and our poor neighbors are the first victims if you suddenly want to be considerate of that.”

“oh my god.”

“c’mon. kiss me. there’s no one else outside.”

“if there’s anyone who appreciates a room, it should be you.”

“mhm. yes. a bedroom, more so right now.”

you smack your hand over his mouth, unable to hold back your laughter at the flabbergasted look on his face. it slowly morphs into annoyance, and then acceptance. 

“don’t be upset,” you say, placing a light kiss on his nose. 

you know just the way to sedate him. kaveh should have you arrested for whatever violations you’re committing against him. there must be laws against the fevers you raise on his skin. right?

“shall we go home?” you smile with sleepy eyes.

and his heart melts. there’s nothing more he wants than a home with you. 

“lead the way, my love.” he grins wide, and suddenly, the marble and the cobblestones melt away, your hand over his the only stronghold left. it is not loud enough yet to leave his mouth, but the answer to the architect’s greatest dilemma—is you. 

[yoimix]

genshin men + dressing (their) wounds 

ft. childe, xiao, kaeya

[ tw: violence, language ]

✽ childe is no stranger to blood, not when he’s covered in it half the time he visits you. either his body has an unending production of blood or he’s committed murder on a catastrophic scale. to be honest, you’re not quite sure childe is human at times. the exasperation he instills in you is certainly not humanly possible. you’re not sure how you crossed fate so horribly that you were sent this infuriating manchild for a friend, walking around your living room like he owns it. you’ve said this before and you’ll say it again, “if i smell blood in my house again, i swear i’ll let you rot outside” and always his reply will be, “well, what perfume would you like me to buy?” you tell yourself he’s a complete jerk and redemption would require divine interception. yet, you let him in every goddamn time. you don’t know what part of you it is that believes in him so strongly. 

“please, (name), i promise i didn’t lose that much blood this time,” childe whines outside your door.

you make no notion of unlocking the door. “then you can take care of yourself!”

“oh come on, where else can i go?”

“the fucking hospital? i’m not even trained medical personnel.”

“aw, but you can cure me no matter what.”

there’s dead silence following that. childe knocks frantically at your door.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry i said that! please let me in, it’s getting colder.”

you sigh. there it is again. some part of you always gives in and the rest of you collapses. you must be cursed.

you slowly pull the latch, and open the door to the tall figure of none other than the eleventh harbinger.

the filthy liar. this is far more blood than ever before. you can’t even locate the source but you notice the deep red along his side and leg. childe offers you a bright, almost child-like grin. you look at him horrified.

it only lasts for a moment before he collapses forward into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. you swear this man is a walking medical emergency. well, not quite walking now.

childe is heavier than you expected, and it takes you a few minutes and a whole lot of effort to get him to the couch. long enough for him to regain consciousness, while you bring in your first aid kit. you hate stitching.

“i’m so glad i got here on time,” he groans, trying to sit up.

“no! no, lie back down. we have to stop the blood flow.”

“oh, good idea.”

“are you an idiot?”

childe pouts, obeying your commands without further argument. he must be really injured.

“okay. now take off your shirt.” you pull out the stitches and bandages from the kit.

“woah.” childe’s eyes widen. “at least take me on a date first.”

“now’s not the time!” you yell. does he have no situational awareness? archons, he needs not only medical help but something for his loose screws.

cleaning the wounds are easier said than done. there’s a gaping hole at his side, though no organs were irreparably damaged and the gash on his leg is shallow but it’s still at the risk of infection.

“you’ve made a mess, ajax,” you mumble, getting worried. sure, you’ve stitched injuries like this back when you were with the fatui soldiers. but it’s been a while. leave it to childe to give you enough stress to last a month.

“this might sting.”

“more than the alcohol? you know i really prefer alcohol in drin—“

he hisses at the first prick, clenching his teeth in pain but he makes no other sound. he’s been through worse, you tell yourself. you try your best to fight the sympathy you feel.

“you can take it, big boy,” you mutter, focusing on stitching his the wound shut. “don’t look.”

“i’m really not,” he says through clenched teeth.

when the stitches are done, you can finally exhale a sigh of relief. childe rests his head on the headrest of your couch, looking glassily at the ceiling. 

“ajax?” you spring up, worried. “are you okay?”

you lean over to have a closer look. there’s no way this would kill him. he’s your ajax, after all. 

“ajax!” you call again, panicking as you smack his cheek lightly.

“huh?” he blinks, finally lifting his head. “oh, zoned out for a bit there. it numbed the pain though.”

“oh my fucking god, you’re the worst,” you exhale loudly. you can’t admit out loud the relief flooding your heart. teyvat could crumble into the abyss and you’d still choose for him to be safe and sound. so that’s what it is.

you’re in love with an idiot.

“next time, go to a hospital, ajax.” you breathe heavily, still trying to catch up. 

“you could kiss me better and it’d still be more efficient than the stupid hospital.” he rolls his eyes. you ignore the tiny ripple in your heart.

“or, i beat you till you’re bedridden and aren’t at my house at midnight five fucking times a week.”

“mhm, just say you want to kiss me.”

you hold yourself back from pouncing onto the man and worsening his injuries. sucking your teeth, you put the bandage roll back in, shutting the drawer rather aggressively.

“woah, cupcake, what did the drawer ever do to you?”

“i’m about to do the same to you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“ooh, slam me against a wall and- oof.”

the flick to the forehead was well deserved. he heaves out a sigh before shaking his head and looking at you with raised brows.

“well, someone’s gotten stronger since we last sparred,” he whistles. “your finger strength is no joke. shall we have an arm wrestling match?”

“i will literally break your arm.”

“my, isn’t that exciting?”

you hold back the urge to scream. you do not have enough sleep in your system to deal with this. “recover, ajax.”

“but what’s the point? if i’m all healthy and spry, you don’t spare a glance at me.”

you knit your brows together. “what?”

he shrugs. “right now, you’re looking at me and god, i love your eyes on me, but morning comes and you turn away.”

“i don’t understand, ajax.”

“you don’t spar with me like you used to, you don’t write to me, you don’t even keep your old insignia.” childe gulps, a somber look in his eyes as he fidgets with his fingers. “it’s like you didn’t care about how i felt at all.”

“you—what?”

“i loved you, (name),” he whispers, meeting your gaze with solemn grief. you’re certain you’ve only seen that look years ago, when he was finally found after reported missing. it unnerves you.

“you... loved me?” you try to process his words.

“i still do,” he adds, with a small smile. “so please keep patching me up. please keep looking at me.”

“oh, ajax,” you choke over your words. “i didn’t leave because i didn’t care about you. in fact, you’re the one i- you’re the only one who could’ve convinced me to stay.”

childe’s eyes widen. you nudge closer, avoiding his gaze.

“i’m sorry, ajax. the fatui life wasn’t for me but i should’ve left you an explanation.”

“so you don’t hate me?” childe’s eyes almost spark again.

“now, that’s taking it too far,” you joke, and childe laughs softly. he moves as gently as he can, like a lion cub play-hunting, and lands a kiss against your cheek, your jaw and the corner of your lips. as though waiting for permission, his lips hover over yours.

you close the distance, with a kiss as delicate as fresh snow.

“this injury thing really sucks,” childe complains, pulling back with a grimace.

“you realize that now?!” 

“woah, babe, no need to yell. i’m not going to fight a couple ruin guards at once again.”

“you did what?!” your tone gets even louder, nearing a shriek.

childe looks at you, perplexed. “what? i wasn’t aiming for this! just a few gashes so you’d fix me. i won’t do it again.”

“what the actual fuck, ajax? that’s it. you’re not leaving the house for a month. no, two months.” you frown at the man beside you, who looks the least bothered. in fact, he’s got a feline curve to his smile.

“so... do i still get get-well kisses?”

the audacity.

“...yes.”

✽ xiao can only whisper your name after fights, when he’s at your window like a cat that keeps coming back to the kind stranger that fed him. a gash on his chest, blood on his chin and cheeks—it doesn’t matter. even if you’ve never patched up an adeptus before, it is as your training goes. one thread, stitch by stitch. “it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt” he repeats as he collapses into your arms. he’s not one to take you for granted but you’re not one to give up. xiao’s skin is warm and his face is beautiful even when he’s in this state. it makes you wonder what it means to be an adeptus, though you’d dare not question. to you, xiao is just a boy you met by the crystal sea on a clear night that you refused to leave hurt. even if the hurt was a little scratch on the bridge of his nose. after all, your painted flower bandaids matched his hair all too well.

“you don’t- you don’t... have to,” xiao still manages to say, leaning against the headrest of your bed while you scurry around to bring your supplies.

“you came here, xiao.” you click your tongue. 

xiao looks down at his hands, covered in dry red. “i wasn’t thinking.”

you bring everything to your bedside table, hands shaking despite everything. you’ve done this so many times. taking a deep breath, you press the back of your hand against xiao’s forehead before flinching away. for a moment, xiao looks almost hurt.

“you’re burning up,” you gasp. “oh, mr zhongli left medicine for that. let me fetch that after you’ve stopped bleeding.”

you always blab when you’re working on a patient. whether it’s to ease their nerves or yours, you can’t say. you just know that you talk and xiao listens.

“and that’s how i stitched the hole in my foot after the whole sharp rock mess. ugh. it was horrible but hey, experience is experience.”

when you don’t get his usual hum of a response, you look up to find xiao dozed off. it’s strange, how it makes you feel. on one hand, your heart flutters at the thought of him being comfortable enough to fall asleep in your bedroom. on the other hand, you want to scream at him for coming to your house so injured. you nearly got a heart attack. this can’t be payback for you calling him at random times, can it? he appears at your call every time no matter what, even if if you called him to share ice cream with you. 

you sigh, brushing the hair out of his face. he looks so peaceful. if you can take away his pain for even a second, you’d rush to it.

“i don’t call you to annoy you, you know?” you say quietly, soft breaths departing your lips. “i just want you to be with me longer.”

his breathing stays steady, dreamless yet. you lean down to land a peck on his forehead, giggling as you pull away. he’s too cute. you think you’re the one who deserves a forehead kiss after all that hard work but you’ll let it slide. you lose yourself in daydreams so easily. just for a moment, you close your eyes.

xiao’s sudden coughing makes you startle, and you turn to him but he doesn’t face you.

“i... i breathed in too sharply,” he confesses, unable to meet your gaze. under the moonlight, you can see clearly the silken scarlet over his cheeks and ears.

“oh, you were awake,” you ponder aloud, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself. “it’s just part of the treatment process. good patients get forehead kisses.”

“you... kiss all your patients?” xiao slowly turns to you.

you scratch the base of your neck. “eh, not really. you’re just... too tempting.”

you can almost see the blood rushing to his face; you’re not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or indignation.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh, i don’t mean it in a bad way! well, this isn’t the best time for you to realize.”

xiao purses his lips. “you know i’ll hurt you.”

you raise your arms in defense. “i’m still unhurt, aren’t i?”

he clenches his jaw, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “it’s a slow death. you won’t know till you’re in the jaws.”

“i’ve lived a lot of deaths, xiao. i’m a doctor.”

“i can’t just have you ta—i can’t do this to you. i’m sorry i- i don’t know what comes over me.”

“what, when you’re getting yourself killed?”

“i always come running to you,” he mumbles, meeting your eyes. is it guilt? “it’s unfair.”

you grin wide. “you have a home here, xiao. even if you don’t pay rent.”

“what’s rent?”

you shake your head, a quick sigh leaving your lips. unable to help your self, you cup his cheeks, squishing them. there’s a solid chance no one in the history of teyvat has done this to xiao. 

“you better keep that cute face looking fresh. the day you die is the day i go out of business. do you know how many sick and injured i get every day in liyue harbor? even baizhu wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

xiao looks up at you soundlessly, eyes wide. almost like a deer caught in headlights. he moves his mouth but no sound comes.

“well, alright.” you let go. “i’ll reapply the ointment tomorrow morning so you can’t run away. and you need to take the packs of medicine mr zhongli keeps sending! i’m running out of storage.”

looks like the cat got his tongue. you don’t mind stunning him into stupor but his eyes on you make your stomach flutter.

“anyway, good night, xi—”

you’re pulled by the wrists towards xiao now sitting up. a pair of warm lips press against your forehead.

“thank you,” his whisper is hoarse. 

you look up to meet a small smile. you never realized how you yearned for it.

“of course, xiao.”

✽ kaeya would climb inside his grave himself before lets you know of his injuries. he’d much rather make sure you’re okay from the shadows, and he can’t really do that if you’re fussing over ever little gash and bruise. seriously, he didn’t ask for a nagging mother. despite being friends for quite some while, he tries his best to keep you at arm’s length. none of his misdeeds should catch up to you. enemies always start out friends, brothers even. if he were wiser, he would’ve stopped you the moment you held his hand and made him promise he’d stay safe. he regrets you—except when the soft touch of your palms press against his skin with unbound concern. this is cruel. no mater how elusive he can be, you always find him. dragged against his will to the favonius infirmary, he’s met with a constant glare from you as you grab the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads.

“it’s just a few scratches,” kaeya tries to appeal.

you see right through him. “if you move an inch from this spot, kaeya, i’ll make sure jean assigns soldiers to reporting your whereabouts. at all times.”

he grimaces at the thought. “no thanks. i’m great right where i am.”

“good.”

you dab the long gash along his bicep, trying not peek beyond his shoulder at his exposed chest. you’re not like one of those ladies swooning over cavalry captain kaeya. no, you have it so much worse. you can’t even begin to explain the stress this man gives you when he returns with bruises and cuts like they mean nothing to him. your trust must be lawless to him, as he saunters into trouble left and right.

“you’re done,” you announce loudly, a little pissed by now. helping him slip his arm into the sleeve, you huff. 

“gosh, i’d expect the cavalry captain to be more careful.” you cross your arms. “wasn’t it an infiltration job?”

“unfortunately, confrontation is required sometimes, dear.”

“oh, must be mortifying for you.”

kaeya rolls his eyes. “it was a job well done. if only someone would stop fussing over every little boo-boo.”

you glare at him. “if only someone would stop trying to get himself killed.”

“ah, how are they supposed to make me martyr then?”

“that’s not funny, kaeya.” you point a finger at him threateningly.

“sorry.” he raises his hands in defeat.

you shake your head, still annoyed at his nonchalance. you go back to buttoning the rest of his shirt. you swear you’re not looking. “archons, i can’t believe you got knocked on your ass by that little fatui guy.”

“combat was never my forte,” he mutters, chuckling. “it was all diluc back then. i wanted to be like him because i thought he was cool.”

“well, you’re not diluc.” you fix his collar. “but you’re still cool, if that’s any consolation.”

“oh? you don’t seem like the type attracted to the cold.” 

you roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin.

“attracted is a strong word. i just tolerate it. the cold.”

“tolerate it by dragging it indoors against its will? and then spend over an hour making sure it’s okay?” 

“ugh! what is your problem? i’m just looking out for you,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“by walking into danger?” kaeya raises his voice. “i told you to not follow me to the fatui camp! do you know what could’ve happened, (name)?”

“that’s your problem, kaeya,” you snap. “you assume i can’t take care of myself.”

“and your problem is that you never assume things can go very wrong very fast.” kaeya clenches his jaw, eyes trained on yours. 

you scoff. “guess we’re made for each other, huh?” 

“that we are,” he mutters.

an uncomfortable silence follows.

“i’m sorry,” kaeya speaks up first. “i didn’t mean to undermine you. i just... i want to look out for you the way you always do for me.”

“you do plenty already,” you mumble, looking down at your feet.

“hey.” kaeya hooks his finger under your chin to make you meet his eyes. “i really am sorry. i... you’re more important to me than you realize.”

he gulps, nerves on edge. he always comes so close to confessing, but it is never his intention.

“oh, for the love of god,” you heave. does he really not know the effect he has on you? when his touch, his gaze and this proximity are all driving you insane?

“excuse me?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t say things like that unless you want me to- to- ugh!”

you get on your tiptoes to reach his lips, yours barely ghosting over his. acting on impulse is right up your alley.

he flinches at the contact, pulling back. “lip’s still busted.”

“sorry,” you respond quickly, embarrassment flooding your face.

kaeya instantly bursts into laughter. “you really thought a busted lip would stop me? after all this time holding back? i hope you like the taste of blood, darling.”

your face heats up. “huh?”

kaeya pulls you closer by the waist, his other hand cupping your cheek like porcelain when he presses his lips against yours. and when he deepens the kiss, you do taste blood but neither of you pull back till you’re out of breath.

kaeya whistles. “never thought you’d be out here committing inappropriate workplace behavior.”

“you- you kissed me!” you sputter, heating up at his teasing look.

“ah, but who kissed me first?”

“kaeya,” you whine. “fine. have this victory. i’m leaving. you have fun alone with medical supplies.”

kaeya nearly falls off the bed trying to grab your arm and pulling you back. you glare him, even when nestled between his arms.

“hey, hey.” he pouts. “who said i’m reporting this to jean? i play nice.”

kaeya leans in, a smile brighter than the summer ocean. you’re so distracted, you can barely react to his kisses. 

“okay, enough. if you kiss me aga—mmpf—kaeya, i swear—mm—stop kissing me! i’ve had enough of the blood!”

kaeya’s frown deepens though he tries not show it. “so what? i’m supposed to tell the enemy to spare my face next time?”

“yes. and this means you’re also focusing on recovery full time.”

kaeya’s mouth hangs slightly agape. “you can’t deprive me like this.”

“you can stay deprived a week or two. that should teach you not to fight senselessly and then have the audacity to avoid me.”

kaeya can only sigh. “alright. this victory’s yours now.”

you grin. “you get one last kiss for admitting that.”

kaeya’s eye lights up immediately, and you nearly melt. you cup his face, and press your lips to his, telling yourself it’s the last. (no, you didn’t give him three extra kisses just because he looked cute with his messy hair and bright lovesick smile.)

[yoimix]

genshin men + a clumsy s/o

ft. kazuha, zhongli, venti

[ requested by @jewelscara ] [ tw: alcohol, kazuha lightweight :-) ]

✽ kazuha is used to a life of wandering, dangers and unconventionality—and that means his senses are heightened above the capabilities of a normal man. as such, he finds your motions bizarre by instinct, but he also finds your ditzy steps strangely adorable. he supposes it’s because it’s you that he finds even your oddities heartwarming. as long as you’re not falling into pits or anything. he will also hold you by reflex if you trip or walk into something or slip on a particularly dewy patch of grass. to be fair, the last one is tricky. he’s always smiling so endearingly when you’re around too, and you can blame him for distracting you on most occasions. kazuha would never hold it against you either if you break something on accident or knock things over. all in all, he’s very concerned about you gravely injuring yourself traveling with him in particular, while still letting you stand up on your own two feet (even if they’re both left). 

although, his movement mimics yours with the tiniest bit of alcohol.

“more, more, more... more,” he drabbles on, as you try your best to drag him out of the tavern.

“goodness, kazuha, we both know i’m not cut out for this job,” you heave, as he finally takes a step in your direction only for you to lose balance and land on your knees. mondstadt cobblestones aren’t the softest to land on but your battered knees are used to a little bit of beating.

he looks down at you with a slight pout and furrowed eyebrows. “my love, did you fall again? are you hurt? oh dear.”

he stumbles onto the floor beside you, his outstretched hand meant for you to take breaking his fall instead. how could one fruity cocktail reduce him to this? to be fair, you don’t need even that to be as bad at keeping balance. 

“kazuha, we have to get up,” you tell him, brushing your knees as you get back on your feet.

“i’m up,” he says confidently while still sat on the ground. “you’re looking so blurry, maple, are you falling?”

“i’m afraid that’s not the case, sweetheart.” you shake your head, grabbing both his hands to lift him up.

your efforts do get him off the ground. however, instead of standing, he leans over onto you till his entire bodyweight is on you. of course. what else did you expect? he’s still so cute, you think. when did babbling, drunk men start looking cute to you? but then again, it’s only kazuha. you love every little detail of his.

“you’re gripping me too tight,” you say, trying to loosen his grip around your waist. 

“of course i am, (name). i don’t want you falling,” he mumbles, finally standing up straight. his arms don’t move. “do you know much it worries me to see the bandages?”

“i’m alright, kazuha. you don’t put me in any trouble more than i put myself in.” you press your hand against his cherry-red cheek, revelling in the warmth. “you can- you can let go...”

“i’d rather not let go of you,” he refuses, face as golden as the setting sun.

you furrow your eyebrows. met with his deep autumn eyes, what more can you do?

his grip around your waist isn’t getting any looser and the blood flows into your cheeks as he refuses to lower his stare.

“you will always worry me, (name).” kazuha sighs, but it soon turns into a smile. “so don’t wander too far off from me.”

✽ zhongli, ever observant, incorporates your tendencies into his habits. he can never be too careless with you around. in your defense, you couldn’t look at the man without your heart doing flips and somersaults. even as lovers, it’s ridiculous how you struggle to keep your balance around him. the number of walls you’ve walked into as a result of his smile is ridiculous. in fact, zhongli reflexively stretches out his arms before you can bump into anything. he will pull you by the waist if you walk a little close to the docks, place his arm between you and any solid surface that might hurt your shoulder, take your hand every time you step over the puddles after liyue’s much needed rain. it’s deeply evident how he cares for you. sometimes, though, he will just let you do your thing and look at you fascinated. he always carries bandages and antiseptic creams on him, even if he forgets his wallet.

“dear?”

“yes, zhongli?”

“did you fall into the pool or were you planning to take a swim fully clothed?”

you lower yourself into the waist-level water, fully drenching yourself. there’s a large scrape on your thigh and you’d rather not let your lover take note of it. partly because you’re embarrassed and partly because you don’t want him to fuss over you later.

“i’m fine down here, honey,” you mumble, looking away from him. you can still feel his intense gaze, regardless. 

when you stormed out of the house, annoyed with his lecturing on your habits, you should’ve expected some bad luck. (luck referring to your muscle coordination.) you know he only spoke out of concern but you took it a bit too personal. he knows you too well—and familiarity breeds contempt. soon, your little quirks will be burdens to bear. you didn’t want him to worry when you waked off, you just wanted some fresh air. to be fair, you did get some fresh air before plunging into freshwater too.

“i don’t want you catching a cold, love.”

zhongli gets down on his knee beside the clear pool of water, extending a hand for you take. after a moment of hesitation, you give your hand and he gets you out effortlessly. 

the thing is, you expected him to let go after you’re up. instead, you’re pulled into his chest, his arms settling at your back and waist, a deep chuckle leaving the man. you’re sure the water’s soaking through his clothes and yet there is no notion of his discomfort. is he made of rock?

“zhongli! why’d you do that? now both of us are drenched...”

“does it upset you, my dear?”

“no. but... you don’t have to go so far to coddle me,” you grumbling.

“hah...” he sighs. “one moment, you believe i’m angry with you and the next you think i’m coddling you? you’re as bewildering as ever.”

“you’re teasing me again,” you huff as you pull away and cross your arms.

“you know my adoration for you. i never meant to preach.” he presses his lips together and hums a sigh. “i should’ve worded it better. i don’t mean to coddle you and neither do i want to show you tougher love.”

his hand at your waist wavers and finally moves to rest against your cheek.

“now let’s get you fixed up. blood is not a nice color on you,” he speaks grimly, but not as a reprimand. if there’s anyone who wouldn’t either baby you or treat you with indifference, ire even, it’s your ever-steady lover.

“how did you...” you shake your head, a smile growing. everyone needs someone to lean on. “thank you, my love.”

✽ venti is quite mischievous with you, though he makes sure you’re alright in his own way. he sometimes blows a particularly strong wind in your direction just to see you flail, and follow up by grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him in a funny little dance. even if you step on his foot more times than you can count, he always finds a way around it—making fun of the mistakes you make till you’re forced into a rebuttal by pointing out his own. he just enjoys the way you move, as far as graceful as you can get, and yet as animated and lovely as windwheel asters. he also jokes often about how you don’t need alcohol to act silly. you say it’s the same for him; he’s not the most serious of men. venti also gets more affectionate when he’s drunk, much like a cat on catnip, and will show you off with the weirdest titles. (“my s/o can trip three times on a hike and still be okay!” “venti stfu”)

“oh thank barbatos,” you heave, as soon as you reach the tip of starsnatch cliff.

“you called?”

you shriek, your fists flying up to fend the source of your momentary fright off. however, instead of getting into a defence stance, you stumble backward and land on your butt right at the edge of the cliff. 

“you’re going to kill me, you idiot!” you scream while venti snickers, landing softly beside you. oh, to be as nimble as wind. you’ve got to say you’re a little jealous of the bard.

you scoot away from the edge to a much safer spot, while venti shrugs and lays his head on your lap.

“who said you could do that?” you quip, though you don’t move his head away.

“aww, didn’t you come here to meet me?”

“i meet you if i want to add more injuries to my body. every time i fall, you make me fall harder.”

venti’s eyes go wide. “my, that’s quite the romantic thing to say.”

you sputter out a half-assed denial. “y- you know that’s not what i meant.”

“well, do you want me to sing your bruises better?” he sits up giggling, the tune of his laughter playful.

“very funny, venti- oh dear archons, you don’t have to whip out your lyre harp.”

he strikes a familiar chord, a song of love and mischief, and you cave. it’s so easy for him to quieten you. then again, his melody always calls for attention. it’s so easy to lose track of time with him, and you’re glad you do. life can get hard, even in the city of freedom, and what’s better than the archon himself lifting your spirits? he’s quite good at that, even if he doesn’t realize it.

venti clicks his tongue when he notices you zoned out.

“c’mon now, i’m pouring my heart out for you!”

you roll your eyes. “oh lord barbatos, i don’t believe you could ever surpass the admiration i hold for you already.”

“unimpressive.”

you shake your head, huffing loudly.

“shall we dance then?”

“here?” you look around, furrowing your eyebrows at the steep ledges. no way. but of course, why would the anemo archon ever listen to you? he does as he pleases. you’re pulled to your feet and you take the tiniest of steps in his direction. the motion makes venti laugh, eyes closing. it really is a wonder how he makes the breeze howl in your chest.

“you don’t have to worry, (name),” he grins wider, taking your hands in his. “you can always trust the wind to catch you.”

[yoimix]

genshin men + mutual pining

ft. childe, ayato

playlist. disaster - conan gray ; accidentally in love - counting crows ; love, or the lack thereof - isaac dunbar

note. this has been rotting in my drafts for too long i’m sorry anon :((

[ requested by anon! ; cw: suggestive, alcohol ]

✽ childe thinks of you far too highly to try his usual tactics. he’s known you for more than half his life now, and best friends aren’t exactly cutting it for him. you’re not children in snezhnaya anymore, holding a wedding ceremony for your snowmen or getting yelled at by your mothers to hold hands after a big fight. there are graver stakes now. and people change. when you disagree, childe can’t just laugh it off obnoxiously to see you steam from the ears. when you have a serious fight, he can’t just hold your hand and say sorry till you agree to talk to him. no, he’d get a glare and if he’s lucky, a punch to the gut instead. maybe you’ll even tell him to piss off. you give him no hint of affection, and he’s starving for it. despite the warmth of your skin, your gaze is cold and it sends him into overdrive. perhaps you too believe that romance is forbidden for vassals of the tsaritsa. or maybe he’s plain mistaken, and you’re not his after all. even so, you make his heart pump blood all the way to his fingertips, sparking with electricity. the rush is unmatched when you smile at him. the confession is overdue. spilling it with alcohol on his lips, however, was not his ideal plan.

“(name),” childe slurs, a blissful smile on his face. “just please look at me. oh my, you’re so pretty.”

“ugh, tsaritsa guide me. the stench of alcohol.” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “just because the wine was free didn’t mean you had to glug fifteen glasses of them! what will the qixing think?!”

“that i’m the pride of snezhnaya?” he laughs loudly. “okay, okay, don’t get mad at me. but did you see? i outdrank all of those old fools! ugh, the little lady seemed unimpressed but that hardly matters. who did she think she was anyway? the yuheng?”

“she was.”

“oh.”

he pauses to blink slowly, before turning to you with a boyish grin. it’s horrifying how it makes your heart flutter, and you might as well plunge into the chasm before you admit that. the rain outside the hotel gets louder, and you just want this night to be over with. when morning comes, you can pretend childe didn’t make it look like you’re on a honeymoon to the entire city of liyue and half your subordinates.

“well, at least the crowd loved me.”

“and you’re going to be throwing up all night,” you huff, pulling him up by his shirt before he leans too far and faceplants onto the ground. instead, he takes it as an invitation to wrap his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. you’re not sure when, in the transition to adulthood, it started bothering you. he’s the last person you should be thinking about like that.

“ah, i love it when you hold me,” he grins with the glee of a kid watching fireworks. “this is so much more comfortable than my coat. how do you always have warm hands?”

“and how do you always manage to embarrass me in the most ridiculous ways?”

he furrows his brows, plush pink lips forming into a pout. “what did i do?”

“what, pretend to profess your love to me in public and crash a dinner party? i get that everyone was drunk and saying stupid shit but you didn’t have to rope me into it!”

“please, it was hardly a serious matter.” he waves his hand dismissively. “a little coworker outing, if you will. it’s a coincidence some qixing officials were having a dinner party.”

“it got so loud we were kicked out of the restaurant.” you might as well be steaming from the ears now. “what do you think the qixing will do if they see snezhnayan diplomats making trouble in liyue? you’re lucky i talked it out with the yuheng but goodness, you made us- you made us look so silly!”

you say it with so much distaste, childe flinches. the blood rushes to your face at the memory of him clinging to you the whole time you tried to explain to keqing that snezhnaya is in fact not up to weird schemes or trying to drown the harbor.

“aww, you had fun too. you were all cute and flustered talking to the qixing girl.”

“that’s because you made us look like a couple, stupid!”

“what’s so bad about that?” he asks quietly.

“oh my god, they think we’re dating.”

“we could be,” he responds softly, a longing sigh following. 

you turn to look at his face, flustered. you can feel his breath against your cheek, his ocean eyes trained on your own. when did he lean so close?

“you’re drunk,” you state bluntly. 

“but the truth is...” he pauses to giggle. “...is still that i love you.”

you gulp. “liar.”

he lets out a dry chuckle, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “don’t say that. i’ll just keep falling.”

“stop it, ajax.” a pang of hurt shoots through your chest, a wistful weed blooming between your ribs. he only wants you when he’s drunk, does he? you should’ve expected no better from mr casual himself.

“i know you think you’re smooth, but you’re taking it too far now.” you take a deep breath, trying not to get too upset. he’s just drunk.

“how far do you think i can take it?” he breathes over your skin, leaned far enough to kiss you if he wanted to, if you wanted to. the flush of his cheeks rivals his oh-so-pink lips, but it’s the vulnerability in his eyes that throws you off. you always thought they were starry like the reflection of the night sky over the ocean. the others, however, describe stormy seas, with no guiding light for miles. 

the consequences to mistaking his feelings is just too catastrophic for you to bear.

“(name), stop.” he comes to a halt abruptly, twisting his wrist from your grip to grab yours instead. you’re suddenly pulled into his chest, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth.

“let’s go home, ajax,” you press, impatient. you didn’t mean to say that, especially when it doesn’t make sense so far from home. you’re just used to saying that when he’s being difficult.

“i am home.” he frowns, gloved hands holding onto both of your wrists. his eyes are pleading, but for what you don’t know. “and did you miss my entire i love you speech or did i imagine saying that?”

“you’re drunk out of your mind and just saying—”

“i’m not. i’ll say it to you in the morning, i’ll say to you tomorrow and the day after and i’ll keep saying it till you just look at me.”

you finally meet his eyes—the intense azure you’ve known all your life begging for you to see him the way he does you. there were better ways to go about this. what did you expect from this walking disaster?

you hold his face between your thumb and forefinger, his cheeks puffing up. he looks too adorable and it’s pissing you off. before you can have any second thoughts, you quickly press your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. pulling back, you can only hold it in for two seconds before the expression on his face makes you burst into laughter.

“do that again,” he mumbles, a dazed smile on his face.

you grant him a quick kiss.

“again.”

kiss.

“and again.”

“you used to say three is the lucky number.”

he pouts. why did you have to fall in love with this manchild?

sighing, you grant him one final kiss, a satisfied sigh parting from his lips. “happy now? it’s time to go to bed, ajax.”

“woah, (name), is that why you wouldn’t kiss me? because you had other plans in the bedroo—”

“no. you’re going straight to sleep.”

he hums, smiling. “i love you.”

“mhm. i can tolerate you.”

“hey.”

“i love you too.”

✽ ayato’s self-restraint is the bane of your existence. he will look at you with his sharp lilac gaze, glance at your lips even, but he will do nothing more than a light touch to your hand or a flick to your forehead on certain occasions. it’s as though he’s aware of the rapid beating of your heart—but he refuses to be anything more than a tease. lately, he’s taken to leaning in closer than before when he pretends to not hear you during your evening walks. is he not aware you can feel his breath? and sometimes, he will place his hand on the small of your back to guide you. does he not know his touches light your skin on fire? honest to god, you hate him beyond measure at this point. when young love grows old, it’s only natural to harbor resentment too. you resent that teasing smile, you resent those playful eyes, you resent the mole by his lips you want to kiss so bad. and just like that, your heart is another piece he’s captured in this game of chess. in a way, though, you understand his roundabout ways of doing things. a man in his position ought to behave. for instance, right now, he shouldn’t be taking your hand outside a social gathering of inazuman elites, and running away like a schoolboy skipping class.

“are you sure you can do this?!” you huff, trying to keep up with ayato. there’s an idle sense of joy to his pace, his posture still elegant.

you, on the other hand, look like you just survived a dumpster fire. disheveled from the running, you finally catch a break once he stops by the torii gates of chinju forest.

“well, wasn’t that fun?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “archons, the blabbering these men do. half a night and all i heard were complaints about their wives and their boring, unambitious ideas for inazuma.”

you whistle. “i never know how you handle your meetings. each one sounds worse than the last.”

“yes, but i can’t brute force my job like some people do.” he gives you a pointed look. 

you glare at him. “well, some occupations don’t require being a crafty, meddling rascal. you wouldn’t know.”

“i like that about you,” he says, quieter. his gaze is soft, like a field of blooming hyacinths. it catches you off guard. 

“w-well- i- uh i- i have a lot more likeable traits than you give me credit for,” you defend, unable to return his gaze.

“so do i,” he responds, a sly smile playing on his lips. “a lot more than you give me credit for.”

“i never said i didn’t,” you mumble in defeat. 

a firefly beelines for ayato’s shoulder but he gives no care towards it. instead he finally takes out the cup of boba tea from the little bag you’ve been carrying. the proximity of his face when he reaches, however, makes you hold your breath longer than intended. it’s so unfair that he’s this pretty. he smiles when he meets your gaze, taking out the other cup for you.

“you’re so easy to talk to, (name),” he sighs. there goes your poor heart.

you hum, tearing your eyes away from him. you’re hardly thinking as you blabber on. “you- you too. i... i don’t say this often but you... you’re a good person, ayato. i wish i could be with you forever.”

realizing what you said within the next fraction of a second, you straighten up, eyes widened in panic. it’s not the first time you’ve been reduced to a stuttering mess in front of the yashiro commissioner. curse your reckless tongue.

“forever?”

“i- i mean, i want to fall for a guy like you someday,” you laugh awkwardly, smacking his arm. what on teyvat are you saying? you have fallen for a guy like him and it is him. 

ayato presses his lips into a thin smile, eye twitching in annoyance.

“wh-what i mean is, it- it would be nice to be with someone like you,” you try to save and miserably fail.

you might as well get a shovel and start digging your grave right here in the forest. maybe the tanuki will dance over your dead body for entertainment. anything to get out of this situation that you, all by yourself, got into.

slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to the source of your misery.

“boba?” 

ayato looks at you expectantly, pressing the straw to your lips.

you nod, fighting the heat growing on your face. he’s too pretty.

“you know, i like it when you say these things to me.”

he’s always been a rude rascal. his smile is cheeky, yet it relieves of you any uncomfortable thoughts like rain on a hot summer day. i want to protect that smile, you thought to yourself once. it’s so rare to see him like this, as just ayato—your friend ayato who taught you to play (and lose) shogi, who gave you his best onikabuto whenever you sulked about yours, who smiled knowingly while you screeched about his awful cooking and showed him the directions again. how many afternoons had you spent with him till he was lost to the rhythm of life? if there really is a god to hear you, you’d pray for ayato to smile like this all the time.

“what do you mean?” you ask softly.

“you said once,” he muses, “that you want me to find someone who likes me for me.”

“i did?” you clear your throat. “i mean, i’d like that too. i- like- isn’t that what everyone wants? to be with someone who likes them as a person?”

“i like you as a person.”

you breathe in too hard, the tapioca pearls caught in your throat as a result. an ugly cough follows till ayato’s patting your back in a concerned motion. you finally spit out the boba, which unfortunately lands in a bush nearby, spooking some foxes.

“oh.” he looks like he’s holding in a laugh. “come now, this is no place to litter.”

“shut up.” you glare at him. “if you didn’t say things so suddenly—erm.”

you’re not sure how to explain yourself. his statement could be taken the wrong way, and you don’t want to be the first one to reveal yourself. if this is a game of shogi after all, you intend to win at least one against him.

“hm? is that what gets you so flustered? a few words from me?”

“you wish,” you huff. 

you feel his warm chuckle against your ear, and the warmth spreads down your neck. you turn to face him, feeling a bit stupid for reacting this way.

“what is it you want to say to me? hm? be honest, now. we're far past playing games, aren't we?"

"i don't know what you're talking about." you feign ignorance, hiding behind your fan.

you take a deep breath, hoping his presence will help you calm yourself. he's such a handful and you know it, but he also makes you feel so alive.

"oh? we can keep playing this game then," he hums, smiling. "you haven't won once against me, you know?"

"th-there's been several times i've beaten you in shogi," you huff.

"by cheating."

"i never cheat!"

“that smile is foul play,” he whispers. there’s barely a gap between your lips and ayato looks like he might just close it.

you feel panic rising. quickly, you press your palm to his mouth, effectively stunning him. it’s honestly cute to see him make this expression.

“we’re friends!” you blurt. “r-right? but god, there are things we can’t do when we’re just friends and you- you just keep testing my patience, ayato!”

a muffled response follows. you take a deep breath and remove your hand.

“it’s like you were going to kiss me,” you complain quietly, embarrassed.

he blinks monotonously. “but i did want to kiss you.”

your face heats up at an alarming rate. “huh? are you supposed to say that out loud?!”

“how else am i supposed to know?”

“know what?”

“if you want to kiss me or not.”

“i always want to kiss y—”

you clasp your hands over your mouth, embarrassed beyond thought. there is no way you said that out loud. the spark in ayato’s eyes only brightens to a more mischievous look.

“you said it yourself,” he says casually, “there are things we can’t do if we’re just friends.”

he takes a step closer. “and i want to do them with you, (name).”

you open your mouth but no response forms.

“so will you please let me kiss you?” he completes, the frustration built over the years finally fizzing out.

“yes,” you say, without thinking, admiring the beauty mark by his lips.

after all, in a sighing forest of promises unkept, who’s to tell of a nobleman’s kisses?