The feast is adequate, he thinks as he puts the goblet between his lips, smelling the finest wine the world has to offer. He has been attending for a few minutes and a few alliances have been secured under his belt, most are lower nobles of Mondstadt and those who hunger for power. They were easy to please; a few praise here and a sweet promise there, then their heart - greedy as it might be, they would be loyal as long as there’s mora pouring over their stashes - would sway.
Still they are not what he's here for.
He is a merchant of noble blood, born into the privileged life he currently has and has no qualms to tell. Other nobles flock to him for his suggestion and smarts. There are many tricks in his line of work and currying favor has always been his specialty. Even the toughest merchants knew a favor owed today could save them by tomorrow.
And he intended to win a point with the master of this winery, the young yet stubborn owner.
At first he approached using his own younger sister - who, like the rest of the young, naive female of her age, falls for the impossible. It helps that the owner had yet to marry anyone and quite easy in the eyes. Extending a hand to offer his sister, however, had been a vain effort. The young master showed no interest in courting anyone. His mouth curled into a small smile at his offer, yes, but it was merely out of manner taught to any child of nobility.
Hearing his sudden engagement might have been the reason he expressed the disinterest in indulging his offer. It's a pity, he thought before, the young master's availability would win him many business with innocent females and lonely wives who can be charmed by a smile or two.
"...I suppose, the master indeed has excellent taste in women" he hears in passing and snaps his attention back to the celebration. Some guests have taken to stand close enough for him to hear the nervous chuckles they share as the two young men sip their wine. Those are guests from Monstads, virile young men, new to the knights; apprentices at most judging by their eased gaits and half drunken state.
"Never seen a vixen like her before," one of them murmurs deliriously, "...closest I've seen someone as exotic as her is the captain"
"You wouldn't be the only one thinking our captain is pretty, you know? Half the battalion would vouch"
They giggle, both of them, uncaring of where they are. "You need to get laid," one says. The other snorts back a, "Pot, kettle" before they both dissolve into a quieter conversation as they leave. Probably to fetch more wine.
He takes a small sip of his own. The exotic captain from Favonius, ah, yes, he remembers sourly. That bane of his existence who immediately guessed his modus operandi upon the first complaint his foolish rivals made. Smart young man, he admits - a high praise especially coming from him - charming, and dangerous. Too bad that he’s fiercely loyal, a blind follower to the knights who wouldn't be afraid to get his hands dirty if needed be.
Said fiance on the other hand - his eyes flit toward the young lady wrapped in fur and evening dress with generous slits - is a welcoming sight to see. Narrow light blue eye and shining raven hair braided to the side of her covered shoulder. One of her eyes is covered by her bangs, either a simple fashion statement or a silent warning to onlookers, either reason only serves to enhance her attractiveness.
The master has a good taste indeed.
Speaking of the winery’s owner, he spots the young man flitting about the guests, smiling and nodding politely to anyone who greets him. Some congratulate him, others express their regret subtly that they’ve failed to win his heart. A few young women shamelessly flaunt their charm still, hoping, wishing even to the very end. He brushes it off easily, letting them down with a smile that would definitely break their hearts.
“Delicious wine as always, sir Ragnvindr,” he says as he slides into the empty spot beside the young master, “...I am honored that you’ve invited me today”
"I am pleased that you find this simple feast delightful" says the young lord in return, lips pulled into a smile. He guffaws at that humbling remark. Simple? One feast on the courtyard of the richest winery in Mondstadt is simple? Truly, their minds are two different worlds.
"No need to humble yourself, sir Ragnvindr, if this is simple, I fear the world wouldn't be ready for what you thought as lavish"
"You think of me too highly, sir, social parties are not one of my virtues"
Again, he laughs. “I doubt that,” he replies, bringing the goblet to his lips, “...I heard they whisper about you; the most charming bachelor in the land, no?” he takes a sip, eyeing the young lord expectantly.
“No, I’ve never heard of that”
And he sounds genuinely puzzled. Probably because they’ve never said it to his face, he thinks, amused by such naivety the young man displays. “Regardless, I am pleased that you find someone to settle with. A radiant beauty at that,” he smirks when the master’s breath hitches. The young lord shifts his gaze involuntarily, searching for his fiance among the crowds and for a moment he sees various emotions being conveyed through that crimson gaze.
“Is she?” the master asks without turning his gaze back to him.
This raises more questions regarding the mysterious lady. Though he has to keep it to the back of his mind as there are more pressing matters he needs to bring up. There’s a favor he wants to win, after all.
“So this is where you are,” a voice caresses his ear and he flinches near violently at the sudden arrival of another presence, “...I thought you’ve run back to your room from the sheer number of people waiting to greet you”
Lithe like a fox, the lady of the manor smirks at him as she slides into the conversation, slipping a delicate arm between the house master’s own. Her sole crystalline blue eye shines under the evening sun, “Ah, good evening, sir,” her voice deep and lilting, like a siren beckoning the sailor, “...I heard of your accomplishment lately. Your... ‘business’, has been flourishing these last couple of months, hasn’t it? I would love to hear you spill me some of your secrets”
Unconsciously, he licks his lips, gaze shifting toward the young lord for a moment. The target was the master, obviously, he wouldn’t aim for second best who doesn’t have enough authority to bend the winery to his favor. But this...lady, clinging to the young master’s arm like a snake to her prey; the newly introduced fiance of said master.
Perhaps, he could bend the master eventually by winning his beloved’s favor?
Surely winning over a woman’s heart is easier than the cold, unfeeling master of the winery?
“Well, I’m flattered that you even knew my work, miss...” he trails off, allowing her to fill in the blank.
She offers a hand, fitted in a skin tight black silk, “Khione, you may call me with my name or title, I wouldn’t mind” her fingers are delicate, wrapped perfectly like a gift. It isn’t easy to hold back a gulp - exotic, they say, salacious, he would correct - but he manages with visible effort, “Lady Khione, then, I’d say you really are a sight to behold” he says, taking the offered hand to give it a peck.
A giggle titters out of her lips as he lets her hand go - almost reluctantly. She leans closer to the young lord, lips brushing against his ear, prompting a twitch from him. Her smile widens as he nods and suddenly, her eye is fixated on his, “I got my permission, so, shall we, sir...?” she slips out from her fiance’s arm.
“Gilbert, call me Gilbert” he quickly provides.
Her lips quirk into a smirk and he shudders unconsciously, “Sir Gilbert, then. Let’s go for more wine, yes? I heard from my beloved that you are quite fond of it and I would love to drink more”
The woman - Khione, was it? Or Chione? What was her name again? - could drink, definitely, he thinks, assumes, or whatever, his mind is far too hazy to choose words. Khione laughs, places her cheeks on the back of her palm as she stirs the small glass on her hand. Her voice is intoxicating, lips parting deliciously as they pressed on the rim of the crystal glass.
“You *hic* play in this fh-fheld long enuff *hic*” he stops for a bit, rearranges his wordings as best as his head can, “...you know wh-ere *hic* the holes arhe, where you can *hic* strhike to hurt the most” are there two glasses in her hand?
“...You must’ve seen a lot more than I do. I’ve been in the backseat mostly; an observer, you might say,” she tips the glass, sipping almost in reverent at the liquid - how hasn’t she slurred? - “...heard from a few loose lipped fellows that taking the field is rather crude instead of playing behind the screen” she smiles; radiant and bright.
He snorts at that, “Crude you say? Try abysmal *hic* those mages and nobless aren’t eashy to phlease” he hiccups, letting out a giggle at the end, “...I’m a merchant, I *hic* say, nhot a meracle whorker” there’s a glass, newly poured wine pressed into his empty hand - when did it get empty? - and he unconsciously tips his head backward to swallow its content without remorse.
“You work with mages?” she gasps, disbelieved and is that awe he hears from her voice?
Good, he can now...he can…, huh, “Yesh, of course, abyssal maegh, obviously *hic* they alwaysh on the lookout for profeeth dealer if you know whatt I meen” what is he doing with this lady again? She’s pretty though, too pretty, with the lone blue eye staring straight into him and taut lips and dark hair and, dear Seven, he should probably stop before he regrets it.
But he needs to finish his tale, the urge to make her admire his greatness overwhelms his rationality, “Hil-hilu, whatsitsname again? *hic* Those brainlesss monhsters, yessh? They couldn’t, uh ral- rel - rally themselves so the maeges, yesh, they *hic* gave ordres and I requested the locassion,” he leaves the empty glass and clasps his hand together before mimicking an explosion sound as he separates them in one swift movement, "...then bam! *hic* a perfectly shefe route is scured and none for dhe rhest"
"Smart" the lady says, lips curling into another lovely, knowing smile.
Another glass is pressed into his hand, he only has half a mind not to guzzle it down like a thirsty man. "Thry genius, missy. Been *hic*" doing thish for quite a whail and even the *hic* stupidh knaiths hadn't caught on" he remembers the first time vaguely. There had been conscience, he recalls faintly, the details are too fuzzy, but he knows he hesitated for a moment. Just a moment though. A weak man couldn't become rich.
"Would it terribly be bold of me to, ah, ask for a little, you know, tip from an expert?"
Oh...oh, she is tempted, isn't she? She wants in, hook line sinker, he'd say. "Iths my to-*hic* tool of the thrade misssy. You really think I woulf ghive ith away easily?" He grins, leaning into her personal space. To her credit, she doesn't even flinch or balk; her smile even grows wider, one eye narrows into a slit.
"Of course I'd pay," she says, "...how mu--"
His laughs cuts her off, oh, what a naive little minx, "Dher are mhore currency than money, dear" he says, pauses for a hiccup and finally says, "...lets make ith easier for you...a kish for one single hint"
She blinks, registering his proposal before breaking into a smirk, "Ah…" she says, "...if I give you two, does that mean you would be inclined to give me two hints?" her tone dips, deeper and sultry; a taunt. Perhaps she is not as naive as he thinks herself to be.
"Dependhs on how you pehform, dear" he drawls.
A soft peck is pressed against his cheek; fleeting, barely noticeable and lasts just a second. He chuckles at that. Maybe she really is naive, "That isss barely a kish *hic*" he says, smirking.
"Worth a try" she answers and then there are indeed a pair of lips on his own. Insistent, but not awkward like that of a flustered maiden. She moves fluently, tilting her head to adapt with his own. A tongue licks at his lips and he understands with a sudden clarity that this is not a mere woman. His hand darts to find purchase, finding the curves of her waist; firm and grounding to hold. He slips when she bites, fingers touching the bare skin of her thighs right where the slit has generously allowed for a view.
Just in time for his lips to part and a tongue to invade his cavity. He curses, intoxicated by both alcohol and the cunning woman currently strangling him with a kiss. It pains him to admit that he's the one chasing after her when they part. "Did I win at least one?" she asks, her face shows not even the slightest hint of a flush.
"By the Sevens…" he slurs, mind barely catching up to his senses.
"More? Do you need more for you to bare it all?"
Gods, no, she would-- she could--
No, no, focus on what their deal is. He might have cheated on business, but his instinct screams that this woman would devour him should he fail to follow through his deal, "Follow the elemental trail" he mutters, earning a curious raise of eyebrows from Khione. "They lheft elemental treilf on the shef route" his gaze is starting to get blurry. How much has he drunk?
"Is that why you hired an adventurer for each delivery?"
That is a dangerous question, his mind warns, how did she know? His hand shoots to catch her wrist as he tries - and fails miserably - to piece together a question when a weight settles atop his shoulder.
"May I ask what are you doing with my fiance, sir Gilbert?"
He flinches violently at the underlying threat beneath those words and finds himself looking up at the young master. The clear silent fury on his face is enough to sober him up on the spot, replacing his bravery with fear in a second.
"Ah, sir Ragnvindr, I didn't...see you there…" he scuttles back, throwing himself to his own space. The lady turns away slowly, politely, before bringing a glass to her lips and sipping it like nothing has happened. A smirk is still playing on her lips and he tries to look away, tries not to look too suspicious to be interrogated.
"Khione…" he hears the master says, no, growls.
It's not addressed to him...it's fine…he’s fine--
"Yess, Diluc, dear?" She replies nonchalantly, as if she hasn't been on his mouth a few moments ago.
"Meet me inside the winery," the young master curtly says, “...and sir Gilbert, I think your sister is looking for you” his voice is quiet, controlled, though tight and firm. It is politeness honed since birth, carved into perfection with time. “Thank you for informing me” he replies stiffly and stands up. His mind is oddly clear as he shambles away from the scene, ready to forget everything along with the hangover tomorrow.
As the door closes behind him, he raises his head to properly look at the offender currently taking a seat on his work desk. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to calm himself as he approaches. Being angry would only make him prone to illogical thoughts. After a big exhale, he finally addresses the other.
“I thought you’re only making him drunk?” he starts.
There’s a coo coming from the other’s mouth and he nearly smacks him, “Aww, are you jealous?" a gloved finger is poking at his cheek, "...or would you like a kiss as well, dear?”
“Stop joking, Kaeya and take those disguises off” he tilts his head away from the touch.
“But they say I’m pretty like this,” Kaeya says with a pout.
He takes his time walking toward his seat and sits down, inhaling deeply as if whatever's going to come out of his mouth next is going to be important. Before finally answering with a blunt, “No”
The knight captain gasps, “Ouch, what a way to break a woman’s heart...” he says, dramatically pressing a hand to his metaphorical heart.
“You’re not a woman” he replies curtly, pointing out the obvious - which most people had missed today, to both his benefit but displeasure,“...and do not try to pout like that again, it’s disgusting...”
Kaeya laughs instead, this chirping, light hearted laugh he rarely hears now. Swiveling in one swift movement, the captain faces him, legs interlocking as one blue eye meets his own pair of red. “Something’s on your mind?” Kaeya asks, genuinely sounds curious.
Yes he wants to say because there is indeed something in his mind. He would never admit to jealousy and he knows being jealous of whoever's Kaeya flirting with is foolishly vain. But tonight? Barbatos should probably be happy he hasn't murdered someone...yet.
“No” he abruptly says instead, knowing a lost cause if he ever sees one.
Kaeya gives him a look; a silent inquiry for him to speak - the second, unspoken question. He refuses to answer it still, preferring to keep the answer his mouth has spewed.
“Well alright then," the knight says with ease, "...there's new info I need to relay to the knights so...see you” Kaeya says, slithering off from his desk, swaying slightly as he stands to face the door. It immediately raises alarm inside his head - is Kaeya drunk? Can Kaeya get drunk? - as his thoughts run through every possibility that could happen if Kaeya truly gets drunk. A rare case, true, but not impossible. He's seen him get drunk before, back in their youth and younger Kaeya is much, much more compliant when he did get intoxicated.
This is not overprotection, he convinces himself
“No,” his mouth says, “...you stay here” he orders firmly. The cavalry captain’s eye widens at his offer, blinking rapidly as if waking up from a trance before settling back to the neutral expression of a smirk on his face. “I thought you aren’t that fond of my company. Miss me much, dear Diluc?” Kaeya purrs, his voice once more coated with half lies.
He nods with conviction and answers with a firm, “Yes, I do perhaps miss your company”
Kaeya blinks once. Twice.
To his surprise, a blush suddenly spreads across the knight’s face, small, but stark against his tanned skin. A struggle is visible on Kaeya's face - oh, how rare - and without a pause, he stands to approach the stunned captain. He stops before the other, watches Kaeya raises an eyebrow in confusion. One of his hands reaches out and Kaeya's attention is quickly honed in on his movement.
For a moment, he could understand the appeal that Kaeya must've felt when he does what he did. All those teasing just to see each individual's reaction .
Deliberately, he moves as slow as possible, grazing over the soft skin of the other's cheek as if trying to cradle it. He could feel Kaeya leaning in; the gesture is barely felt through the tip of his fingers, but he ignores it in favor of traveling further up.
And flicks Kaeya's forehead.
The indignant 'Ow' that follows is enough to bring a smirk to his face. "Clear your head," he says and turns to walk back to his seat, “...once you’re sobered enough, you could start with what you get from the fool. Don’t even try to escape with that information to the incompetent knights”
There is satisfaction in catching the knight off guard, few could say they were able to and he's proud to be counted among the small numbers.
Kaeya is still nursing the spot on his forehead when he sits. The blue eye fixates its gaze at him, a much clearer glint now adorns its hue. Better, he thinks as he beckons the other to take a seat.
(And of course, Kaeya chooses to sit on the desk again, that little shit)
Once the other is comfortable with his choice seating, he finally says without much flourish, just one single order, "Speak" and nothing else.
Kaeya hums as he leans back, "I have a suspicion that this is a trap we’ve sprung because it was too easy, far too simple for a problem that the knights couldn't solve with proper conduct for weeks. Almost as if this 'fool' or whoever is manipulating him wants me to try and find out"
"If this ‘fool’ wants you to find out, he wouldn't go through the trouble of refusing your cordial invitation to Angel's Share" he says.
Kaeya's frown only deepens, his eye losing the mischievousness ever present in its hue, "Which is why I have a suspicion that he doesn't even know half the deal he made with the abyss mages. They might be using him to keep an eye on what comes and goes to and from Mondstadt"
He hums, agreeing. That probably means another hunt for him and his guaranteed alibi from Kaeya once he takes off. "The Abyss mage might have used him. Though they clearly hadn't done their homework of making the guy shut up about how they did their work if you can extract it with a simple intimacy gesture"
"I say the abyss mage let him loose like this on purpose. Once they catch wind of him blabbering, they would take left, leaving an empty hideout and nothing as a clue. Judging on how their cooperation goes, I'd say it's one sided. Do they even meet if they use elemental trail…"
And there he goes; pointing out flaws and picking up clues when others couldn't.
People tend to say that they don't know when Kaeya actually works as they see the playful cavalry captain roam the street, stop by the tavern and hang out with mercenaries all the time. They question why he could become captain if not for his excellent skill with sword or vision - or both.
Those people have never seen this view; most wouldn't. Their captain works behind the scene, preferring to joyfully exchange pleasantries as front while picking up spilled secrets between the lines.
And Kaeya is so good at it; even he was once fooled.
Not anymore, obviously.
"...the guy might be a bait-- are you even listening, Diluc?" There's a smug grin on Kaeya's face. It looks disgustingly pretty, "Or am I too pretty to distract you from hearing me speak?"
His mouth opens before he could filter out an answer, "To the guests I have today, you probably are. To me, I prefer your usual look"
Kaeya stops speaking.
The words finally catch up with him and he immediately buries his face to the inner crook of his elbow and groans. He hates these parties where he has to pretend to like those wines and drink along with the guest. Sometimes he could switch it to his usual juice, but tonight, he had been too distracted to even count how many glasses of wine he had consumed.
A gentle caress cards through his hair, barely touching his scalp in soft strokes, “How many glasses do you have?” he hears Kaeya say; a touch of amusement tingles with affection lingers between his words that he refuses to acknowledge.
“Enough,” he says, lifting his head, prompting Kaeya to let go, “...I’m sober, don’t worry, you can continue. What do you say about bait?” he asks. The captain raises an eyebrow, inquisitive though undemanding. Briefly he wonders if the other would nags him, but eventually, Kaeya shrugs with a defeated sigh and continues…
No, it was more than enough, apparently.
The evening bleeds into night and the feast goes without a hitch even through the absence of its host. It acts as muffled background noises for their conversation. They stay in, exchanging what they know and planning. He would take the bait, obviously; it’s easier if he handles it himself. Kaeya nonchalantly exclaims that he could take the charge of Favonius’s investigation and tips the knights the other way subtly.
But as the captain starts repeating the plan, his eyes are fixated on the lips as they move fluidly from word to word. Someone has painted those lips for this particular disguise; soft peach, which is more noticeable than their usual colorless gloss.
It doesn't help that they move in hypnotic patterns - or at least, to his alcohol addled brain, they are - sending his head into a frenzy.
Sevens, he is drunk.
He does register that the other has stopped speaking though. When he looks up, an amused smile is tugged at those lips, "Enough, huh?" Kaeya teases.
"Quiet," he barks back weakly, "...I'm too busy watching your ass and distracting anyone who 'seems' to 'know' you"
"I'm one of a kind, you should get used to a rare good like me"
"Not if I keep you to--" he bites his lips before the rest could slide out, "...no, I am too incoherent to speak right now" his fingers are pressed to his temple, hoping it would chase away the disparity between what he thinks and speaks.
"No, no, do go on. Consider me intrigued"
He knows this is a taunt; an amusing attempt on Kaeya's part to coax blackmail material out of him. In Angel's Share, the captain thrives on spinning words into sentences, encouraging people to speak more after their lips are loosened by alcohol. Here, he recognizes the same tactic being used and frankly, his instinct has started to push words out of the back of his throat.
So instead of fighting with words in Kaeya's advantage fight, he fights with his impulsive action instead, enhanced by alcohol.
His hand moves, finding smooth satin to pull at as he presses his lips to Kaeya's.
Okay, perhaps it's too much
Kaeya doesn’t struggle, either too stunned to react or simply allowing him. He takes it as a chance to continue deeper. Tilting the other’s face to accommodate his own, he stands and leans down, pushing. Pliant, he thinks when Kaeya wordlessly complies, back settling on his desk.
Several papers tumble down to the floor, sprawling haplessly as he sets the malleable body to his liking. Once the lips against his start to move - adapted, finally sharing his needs - he bites the lower lip and delves into the gap his action incites. There is a muffled sound that he quickly swallows from Kaeya, one that is not quite a moan yet not quite a grunt.
This...is probably a terrible idea, he thinks hazily. The inside of the captain’s mouth tastes like wine, but he keeps on tasting as if trying to find something else beneath the alcohol. There’s a cold, numbing mint he finally finds after seeking and focusing to contrast the natural body heat they share. It’s Kaeya's normal temperature, lower than normal, much lower than his innate one.
If not for the frenetic taps against the back of his shoulders, he might have continued until they need air - or worse. Kaeya’s gaze is clouded, the peach color on his parted lips has been smeared and a trail of saliva peers over the rim. Unconsciously, he flicks the drool away with his thumb and gently smudges the peach hue over tan skin.
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Kaeya asks, his voice hoarse and breathless. He doesn’t answer, too busy tugging at the raven locks on the other’s head. The wig comes off on his third pull and he throws it away before starting on the ridiculously puffy fur shawl around Kaeya’s neck.
Tugging proves quite useless as it is pinned between the captain and the desk. He grunts in frustration before lifting the upper part of Kaeya’s body - in which the knight yelps indignantly at the sudden treatment - and pulls the shawl off. It is flung somewhere in the room that he couldn’t care less.
A laugh shakes the body beneath him and he gives his partner a glare, “Guess you really hate the disguise” Kaeya says, grinning smugly at his grimace. He scoffs at him, “You look foolish in this outfit, have you no taste whatsoever?” his fingers search around the neck until he finds the knot.
“Hmm, but you’re the one who decides on the dre--”
It's laughably easy to unravel the neat bow behind the nape; just a simple tug and it falls apart. How vulnerable, he thinks and growls unconsciously at the thought that people might have conjured from this possibility.
With less patience, he pushes the fabric down none too gently, bunching its hem from neck to hips. Two soft paddings tumble down from his effort; a pair of tools to give feminine assets for the knight. He snorts at them, mutters how far Kaeya is taking this charade to the point that it’s almost shameless.
It is also commendable though, in a way. They were deadly serious as they dressed him in trinkets and make up. There were a lot of thoughts that went into assembling everything for the disguise and despite how silly every part is, it worked like a charm. And he hates that it did.
He sees people staring at Kaeya, spewing words prompted by lack of inhibition due to the generous amount of alcohol he provides. Some politely said that 'she' is beautiful - a lucky find. Those are the ones who stayed with their intended script, staff dressed as guests for an extra pair of eyes and ears. They did blush when they said so and he wasn't sure what to make out of it. Perhaps, it is too much for those who had served his family when Kaeya still lived here.
Others weren't quite as filtered in throwing their praises. Yes, most were praises, but no, they weren't tame nor polite. They were...suggestive, far too graphic for words to be said in public. Some even tried to drape over his shoulder and whispered about tricks in bed. The worst ones were those who tried to actually lay a hand on his 'fiance'.
Harmless gestures like kissing the back of 'her' palm is alright. He couldn’t say the same to anyone with lingering touches. Especially the one with lingering touches…
“Are you sure you’re going to do this drunk?”
That’s common sense - Kaeya is speaking common sense at him for once. He wants to laugh, to pity himself for dropping his guard enough to get drunk in his own feast that out of everyone, it is his prone-to-mischief partner who thinks rationally for him.
“I’m still going to do this even if I’m sober” he mutters and holds the knight’s leg in his grasp. A wry laugh escapes Kaeya’s lips, “I wonder about that...” his partner says, bringing a gloved hand to cup his face. He scoffs, turning his head to take the silky fabric between his teeth and tugs. It is awkward at first since Kaeya freezes at his action.
(He could see him swallow)
But soon, realization seeps into the blue eye. With a slow, deliberate move, Kaeya pulls. Inch by inch, it goes - not forever, he has to remind himself. As the last stretch of fabric reveals the last strip of skin, he finally turns his gaze away from Kaeya’s hand.
He lets the glove drop to the floor and leans closer, forcing the two thighs to spread further, accommodating his presence. “Who are you and what have you done to the real Diluc?” Kaeya guffaws.
He silences him with a growl and a nip on the neck. Kaeya purrs, letting him have his fill, leaving a necklace of bites. As he licks the last few ones, two hands -one gloved, one not - finally grab his shoulders to separate them. The blue orb is staring at him and a frown is now etched into those lips, “No, really, you told me there’s nothing of note in your mind yet now you want to fuck. This nothing must’ve bothered you quite a lot”
“It’s not like you to be caring...” he hisses.
“It’s not like you to initiate sex,” Kaeya answers, "...you told me often to be honest, yet here you are, being a hypocrite"
It is baffling how confident and calm Kaeya could be even when he's half naked, sprawled on the desk ready to be ravished by anyone. He takes it in; the sight, the worry that somehow lingers in the crystal blue eye; a silent plea for him to talk. "Not now…" he murmurs and dives back to capture his lips.
Kaeya resists for a moment and he could feel him frown against his lips. Eventually, he feels the other relaxes with a defeated sigh and two hands immediately slide into his hair. They tug at his locks, needy now that their owner shares his needs.
He parts from the kiss to trace an invisible path from the corner of his lips down to the neck and onto collarbones. Kaeya lets out a gasp with each kiss given, fingers tugging harder at his hair. Grunting from the pain, he growls and nips as retaliation. A keen slips out of Kaeya's mouth before the knight retracts one of his arms and uses it to cover the lower half of his face.
What comes out next are muffled gasps and moans.
"Don't do that!" he hisses, licking a circle around one nub, his fingers flicking the other. Kaeya's voice is muffled, unfortunately, but he could clearly see him arching his back, relaying a demand for more. He obliges faithfully, lapping at the bud now as he pinches its pair. The change is subtle; like how the hand on his hair grips tighter, nails scratching his scalp pleasantly. Or the hitched breath beneath Kaeya's chest under his hands.
It is still a pity that all those delicious sounds are muffled though.
"Get your hands away," he finally orders, lips brushing against skin as he glares up, "...Kaeya..." he growls when the captain makes no move to do so.
Kaeya moves a fraction, leaving a peek of his lips as he says, "I thought you prefer me when I'm not talking?"
Frustrated, he takes the offending hand with his own and snatches the other one as well to pin them both to the desk right above Kaeya's head. "You never did what I said and now suddenly you want to?" he snarls.
Kaeya shifts beneath him, shoulders moving up and down - a shrug. He pushes the other in retaliation until half of Kaeya's thighs are on the desk. His thumb leaves stroke over the soft inner wrist of bare skin before pressing down slightly.
A gasp interrupts the smirk on Kaeya's face as the hands in his grasp struggle weakly - almost playfully. Ignoring these, he continues leaving kisses and nips across the expanse of tan skin. Now he could hear every hitched breath and little mewls that Kaeya emits and gods they are gloriously delicious.
He leaves bite marks across the empty canvass of Kaeya's skin, tracing constellations they used to point out during their childhood days. The reds look horribly good on his tanned skin and knowing they are left by his own teeth only encourages him to leave more and more--
"Tch…" he growls and stops.
Continuing is almost impossible to do if he has to keep holding onto Kaeya's hands like this. His eyes dart toward the desk, seeking for anything to use to keep those hands away.
Ah, right, he halts, using one hand to loosen the tie looped around his neck. For once, he is thankful for the suit they've chosen for him to wear. He switches his grip, making sure to knot the tie around Kaeya's wrists hard enough to keep them bound yet also loosen enough, he would have enough room to shift.
If it leaves a mark, so be it.
Kaeya immediately tests the bond, moving his bound wrists together. They move a bit, but refuse to go further than a little wiggle - he's restrained effectively. He wastes no time to continue his job, leaving marks as he journeys down the abdomen, serenaded by gasps and rare moans.
His lips stop at the bunched fabric, where Kaeya's lower half is still concealed by the dress. It doesn't quite conceal everything though as he could see a bump tenting its supposedly flat stretch across the lower region. Good, he thinks as he flips the skirt.
"See...something you like?" Kaeya purrs. He could hear the smirk in his partner's voice, the relish Kaeya revels in at his flustered reaction.
It is tempting to say 'yes', to catch the captain off guard by his honesty. Yet he couldn't speak, couldn't tear his gaze away at the sight of the other's shaft nestled into a pair of panties. They look almost innocent; black and unassuming, yet the bump they barely covered and the slowly spreading wet patch is a dead giveaway of what lies beneath.
"I-- you--" he tries to find words, searches for anything to say, to react without making a fool of himself, "...do you even have any sense of decency in you?" He finally spits, eyes never leaving the view.
Kaeya has the audacity to guffaw - he wants to smack him - "Says the person who's going to fuck me on top of a desk," he flinches, but offer neither agreement nor disagreement, "...and since I've already had everything on point, I figured why not go all the way?"
'Going all the way is not required', he wants to spit, but that will fall into deaf ears.
So he breathes in.
And decides to go all the way.
He traces a finger down the length over the soft fabric -satin?-, which earns him a yelp from Kaeya that he chalks as a win at least. He continues this ministration, featherly light touches, sometimes a scratch from his nail, but never more than that. Soon, whines could be heard coming from beneath him, hips bucking to wish for more pressure and his name is being called in between stuttered pleas.
He spares a glance at Kaeya and is satisfied at how frustrated the other looked. "What is it?" He asks, keeping his tone as flat as he could. A pout immediately overtakes Kaeya's feature as one foot smacks against his shoulder.
"I know you're enjoying this and everything, Diluc, but I swear if you--" a whimper cuts through the rest of his sentence as he finally presses harder once. It twitches under his palm, warm and expecting
...and he returns to the fleeting touches. The frustrated frown makes way to an irritated one as the foot repeats its previous gesture.
When the demand goes ignored, Kaeya groans, "You--" his partner starts and he cuts him off with a gentle grab, derailing whatever Kaeya has to say into a mess of words.
This...is surprisingly entertaining, he thinks as he switches back to his previous slow and gentle touches. It is delightful to see the other at the receiving end of this kind of treatment, to see the flush on Kaeya's cheeks and irked look on his face.
"Are you not enjoying this?" He asks, once again, repeating the routine of drawing patterns over the raised cloth. The indignant look on Kaeya's face only serves to spur him on and he lets the teasing phase last longer. After a few back and forth, the whines stop and he looks up, puzzled.
Surprisingly, a chuckle slips out of Kaeya's lips, "Never thought you had it in you" his partner says despite the flushed face and the painfully straining erection beneath the stretching black fabric. A tongue peers over Kaeya's lips, tracing their rim, "Must admit, you really manage to channel me of all people quite perfectly"
No, he wants to say. They haven't reached that point he wants; since Kaeya is still articulate.
"But it's true, you play with--Ahh"
If it is satisfying to see Kaeya frustrated, it is downright empowering to cut him with an uninhibited moan like that. He looks up, keeping his expression as neutral as he could be and asks, "You were saying something?"
The cock cradled in his palm twitches and it serves as an answer if any. It looks shameless like this; exposed to the air as its tip leaking drops of fluid while the elastic fabric of its former confinement is pushed to its side. He swipes a thumb over the tip, flicking the bead of precum away.
“For someone who’s supposed to be nngh drunk, you seem to know wh...what you’re doing,” he enjoys the falter, every bit of a stutter he could coax from Kaeya counts, “...heh...seems like you've ah, taken a page out of my...book”
He hums, alternating between squeezing and teasing the slit while watching for each reaction that follows. Sensitive head, he notes when a moan slips out loud enough after he thumbs the tip. Responsive, he adds as more and more pre pours out even when his touch is light. Admittedly, his palm is warmer than normal - a privilege to those with pyro Vision - and fortunately, Kaeya seems to be weak against his natural heat.
Not too long after, the length is wet enough for him to slide between his fingers.
Though that is not what his goal is.
Keeping one hand wrapped around the shaft, he delves lower, passes over the balls and straight to the taint resting below. The panties are still covering it; with the rubber line digging into the furled opening. He presses lightly against them both; enough for it not to pass the rim.
A whimper slips out and Kaeya makes an aborted buck. Glancing up tells him of the frustration and impatience radiating from his partner if the constant foot tapping on his back or arms is any indicator. Once more, he pushes, this time deeper that the cloth passes over the opening; a mere prelude of what's to come.
With practiced ease, he leans back, one hand quickly finds the knob of his drawer. There's a vial of perfumed oil, which a certain someone has dropped into his drawer, between important documents. He opens the lid with a flick of his finger and soon, the tacky smell of grapes wafts through the room. "You still have that?" Kaeya guffaws as he pours the content into his palm, "I remembered hearing you declaring that this cheap perfume deserve to be thrown into the furnace, but hey, there it is. Guess you're still as sappy as when we were children"
His Vision lights up for a moment, warming the moist coat on his fingers instantly. In turn, he shoves one in without as much as a warning up to the knuckle. Kaeya flinches at the sudden entry, an aborted yelp caught in his throat. "That...is unpleasant..." he says between clenched teeth. Stopping for a moment at that pained words, he waits patiently as Kaeya squirms around to adjust. Once the wall relaxes around him, he finally moves his fingers. It's warm inside; soft, slightly dry, but welcoming nonetheless. Familiarity prompts him to crook his lone finger, earning a stifled snort from Kaeya and a soft smack of foot against his shoulder.
"Too shallow?" he asks.
"Too soon" Kaeya affirms so he returns to his task of circling around and spread as much lube as he could on the wall of flesh.
His second finger finds slight difficulty on entering and he tells as much to the other. "You're tighter…" he remarks flatly, "...have you not laid with anyone?" The question comes out before he could stop. It's supposed to be teasing - a short, rhetorical one - but he couldn't stop the tiny fractions of jealousy from showing.
And Kaeya notices this almost instantly.
"Do you truly think so little of me?" Asks Kaeya with a huff.
The strange clarity in his voice brings him to the edge of propriety. His mind is sobering, the alcohol slowly loosening its grip on his conscience. "Seeing you casually giving away intimate gestures, how wouldn't such a thought pass?" He challenges, follows with a twist of his fingers inside. The wall throbs around him; soft and hot as Kaeya lets out a sigh beneath him.
"And how sincere do you think I am as I casually kiss any stranger in the bar?" Kaeya says, "...it's sweet to know you're jealous, but I wouldn't lie to you about this"
"With you, anything could be a lie" he murmurs, thrusting into the warm cavern with the third finger without any warning and breaches deeper in a slip.
A keen rips through Kaeya's throat instead of an answer. His hips are canted forward, seeking anything as his angry red cock spills more precum. The wall surrounding his fingers is twitching fervently as if trying to keep him there forever. He could feel something throbbing at the edge of his fingers and a smirk finally makes its way to his lips.
At least that reaction - which he wishes is only for his eyes alone - is mostly honest.
Mesmerizing, he thinks and cruelly grazes over the bump with the tip of his blunt nails again. And again. And again. And again until Kaeya's moans turn into sobs and pleas, his legs weakly locked around him as his fingers are squeezed by warm, pliable flesh.
"This part of you is at least honest with me" he mutters quietly.
"Well, of course it would, you have the bigges--" Kaeya cuts himself with a choked moan, "...stop. Wait, I -- hahhh -- Sevens, you are insufferable"
Yes, very honest, he thinks as he pushes and pushes, transfixed by the trembling of Kaeya's thighs at both sides of his shoulders and the parted peach lips which are pouring moans as well as delightful whines. He is enthralled by the lithe waists and arches from Kaeya's body, glistening with sweat. And the twitches from his cock as it drools thickly- sensitive to even a little touch. It's a sight to behold, something that he would definitely remember in clear detail.
"Ngh--" he stutters when he feels something poking between his legs. He whips his head down to his own lap, finding a foot pressing onto the tent on his pants. Apparently, Kaeya has somehow fought through the fogginess of his mind and utilizing his loosening grip has managed to sneak a foot down. He has been ignoring his own needs to chase after Kaeya's though it isn't quite surprising that he's this hard already...
Even the simple thought of burying his cock into the heat currently wrapped around his fingers could probably kick him off the edge. Yet he holds still, letting Kaeya have his victory. For a moment.
Smugly, his partner plays, toes dancing around his clothed hardness, tracing lines or giving pressure. It's quite commendable of him with his limbs placed like so to reach his crotch. He has stopped his own fingers, feeling the pressure on his cock and just enjoying it. Occasionally he moves to enjoy the falters in Kaeya's movement whenever he strokes the bump his fingers are snug against.
Like a button, he thinks as he presses a little harder and Kaeya's foot finally slips off of his dick.
When the foot tries to return, his free hand quickly grabs the thigh and pushes it to the side. His other hand reluctantly leaves the hole in favor of tugging his own pants loose, freeing his throbbing erection.
The air is almost too much against his dick, but he trudges through as he grabs the other thigh and just spreads Kaeya's legs effortlessly.
"Uh, Diluc, dear, do you remember something?"
Perhaps it's the meekness so rare in his voice, or the way Kaeya says 'dear' that is successful in making him halt out of both disgust and endearment.
Kaeya looks relieved when he stops. He wriggles underneath him, moving his tied hands as if to catch his attention there. "I fear I might break my wrists if you decide to fuck me right now in this state…"
He considers it. A broken wrist would be a liability for the knight's duty. Not that it would stop him from working, but he knows not to underestimate any broken joints. There is also the matter that his staff would see Kaeya coming out of this room. Sure it's a part of their charade - pretending to be husband and wife - but with a broken wrist?
His staff might not spill to any outsiders, but good lord they are a nosy bunch who loves gossips and rumors regardless of how baseless they are.
"Promise not to muffle your voice" he says in one breath.
Kaeya huffs, something akin to affectionate passes over his eye, "No promises but I'll try to forget that we're inside the winery where you have eyes and ears everywhere"
He snorts, but eventually unties the knot with effort - as it is apparently quite a chore to do deft action when he's half inebriated. Those hands are quick to find his face and pull him down for their lips to meet. Their kiss isn't chaste no, they're too far gone for it to be gentle. It's a gnash of teeth and tongue; a dance, almost yet far too incoordinate to be one.
A gasp scurries out of Kaeya's mouth when the tip of his cock meets his partner's entrance. He parts their kiss for a moment, taking in the sole hazy blue eye staring straight at him, the flushed cheeks, and the downright lecherous swell of lips gleaming with their shared saliva.
"What are you waiting for?" Kaeya asks with a smirk.
He pauses momentarily as he takes it in, before showing a grin of his own and shoves all the way in without stopping.
Kaeya nearly arches off of the desk with a scream that will surely wake the dead. He couldn't remember if he had ordered his staff to stay away from this room or not. Though that is the farthest thing in his mind as he sculpts Kaeya's look inside his head:
His pupil has dilated so much, the dark has overtaken mostly every clear blue area in his eye. The parted lips with its inside bare for him to see - and probably taste- and the wet layer that makes them glowing under the light. The slender fingers scratching on his back through his suit, grasping desperately for something to ground himself lest he would be lost in the pleasure.
Countless bite marks across the expanse of his chest and abdomen - red over tan - like stars in the sky. Two pebbled buds on his chest, pink and biteable. And the veiny cock framed by the panties and dress he refuses to take off.
"Did you just…" he hears Kaeya whispers, voice barely put together, "...get bigger?" and he stifles a laugh at that.
When he shifts slightly to adjust his grip on supple thighs, a moan leaps out of Kaeya who quickly - and in panic - admonishes him for moving. "You're bigger...than I remembered-- Stop, let me adjust...be...be patient..."
Again, he shifts - something he will chalk up to the alcohol and probably being tipsy - and Kaeya pinches his cheeks, "Tease…" he chides, "...okay, you can move now, try not to come in five seconds, yes?"
A grin worms its way to his lips - he sees that one blue orb widens - as he licks his lips and says, "Same to you…"
Then, he lets go.
"Gods--", is the first syllable coming out of his lips after that particularly mind numbing thrust that ends in a choke.
Shit, is his first thought because his dick hurts from not coming after that penetration - which would wreck normal people.
"Shit--wait!", is the next syllables out of his mouth because Diluc doesn't relent after that, doesn't even stop for a single moment to breathe.
He has cried out far too much tonight, releasing noises even he would be embarrassed to own up to along with the ominous creak from the desk beneath them. But this...this continuous rough snaps of hips to meet his own as one huge, throbbing cock constantly coming in and out of him is driving more shameless noises out from his traitorous lips.
Do not muffle your voice Diluc has told him despite warning him to shut up countless times before.
Yeah, he thinks back somewhat fondly, what a sap...
His thought is cut short when the cock fucking into him finally grazes over the nerves bundle located somewhere he scarcely remembers knowing. It sends waves of heat across his body rapidly and his dick cries, a spurt of cum actually bursts out from the tip.
Still not coming, he thinks proudly.
Diluc growls, dragging his cock out slowly. He halts at the sudden change of pace, feels every inch of that - he swears it's bigger - humongous shaft as it passes his walls until only the tip is in. And, oh, gods, Diluc knows where to aim for now, that beckon is a warning. Oh, oh, why is he gripping his cock, what is--
Common sense dictates saying please to ask for something.
Diluc doesn't say that when he pushes, no, stabs into him next, straight into the prostate while the hand in his cock squeezes.
Said common sense, however, is currently retreating to somewhere at the back of his mind. Perhaps it gets scared after that shattering orgasm he just had, blanking most of his head, leaving only the pure peak of pleasure. He ironically feels like an ice melting rapidly under the fire and gods, it feels so good it should be sinful.
He doesn't know if he's passing out or not, but it sure feels like it.
When he comes to, there's a pooling cum on the dip of his stomach and Diluc is still thrusting into him and it is too much, everything feels like on fire.
"Too-much…" he weakly says, fingers scratching at the clothed back of his partner. His insides burn like wildfire, sending heat to every nook and cranny of his body. With every snap of hips earning him jolts of pleasure and every gasp of breath Diluc emits by his ear warms his chest, he crumbles further.
To his horror, it is enough to bring him up again. Fast enough, he's completely hard when Diluc whispers an "Almost…" to his ear, sending tingles down his spines.
Okay, he will blame the alcohol for that.
It should be admirable that Diluc hasn't relented ever since they've started. The brutal pace sets his nerves on fire, his aim is dead on and it wouldn't be weird to think that a prostrate could bruise if one gets fucked like this.
Warm lips place a kiss on the junction of his neck, a tongue laps at the spot almost lovingly and his toes curl when it pairs with another harsh thrust. He's too sensitive for anything right now, heck, Diluc could probably insult him and he would be turned on regardless.
"Coming, Kaeya, I--"
A pair of lips crash over his own and he straight up moans at every bit of sensation his body feels currently. The taste of wine in his tongue as the other invades his mouth. The bruising grip on his thighs which has folded his body nearly in half for better angles. The hot, near boiling cum inside him, flooding and probably spilling out solely because of its sheer amount. And his own dick spilling seeds as he comes for the second time, losing most of his coherent thoughts with it.
Oh, right, and also slowly losing consciousness. At least this time, he knows that he is passing out.
Sevens, he wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow…
"Alright, anybody have a question before we head out?"
"Umm, if I may, sir?"
"Are you okay, sir? I-uh we saw you limping today and having trouble climbing up the stairs"
"Oh, it's...just a rough night yesterday, nothing interesting"
"I was busy handling something huge in the office, apparently someone let in a...beast of some sort"
"Uh, really? I didn't hear anything--"
"It looked like a chicken or something, a foul beast, yes, and it gave me bruises in places I'd rather not talk about, thus the limping"
"You should've seen the epic showdown, I choked it real good, but, eh, that's for another time. Though I think I vaguely remember a desk as casualty..."
"Does anyone else have a question? Or are we clear?"
"Good. Let's move out, shall we?"