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It’s halfway on the road driving home from his office when the windshield wipers on Diluc’s car suddenly stops working.

 

He sighs. The rain’s picking up, and it’s not safe to drive around like this. The only silver lining is that it’s still early enough in the day that the shops haven’t closed yet, so it shouldn’t be hard to find a place to fix it. He pulls up Google Maps on his phone to locate the nearest mechanic, and luckily he’s still close enough to the industrial district that it’s not too much of a detour. Sighing, he makes his way carefully there, guided by his navigator, to stop in front of a shady, dilapidated workshop.

 

He pauses, somewhat filled with trepidation. The pitter patter of rain on the roof of his car seems awfully loud as he weighs his options. He hates to judge a book by its cover, but this place looked exactly like the sort of place that scammed you by replacing more things in your car than you asked for, and then proceeded to demand payment ten times what you’ve expected.

 

Nevertheless, he decides to take his chances. He undoes his seatbelt and heads out of his car, walking over to the interior of the shop, and is met immediately with the naked, well-muscled back of a man, covered in nothing but a slight sheen of sweat. The man’s jeans sling dangerously low on his buttocks, leaving the dimples in his lower back in plain view, the broadness of his shoulders made more pronounced by his trim, narrow waist.

 

Diluc swallows palpably, staring at the fine specimen of manhood in front of him.

 

The shirtless man is bent over the open hood of a car, lines of muscle rippling in his back, his skin the colour of warm honey. He turns at the sound of Diluc approaching, and wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Now that the man’s facing him, Diluc can see the striking beauty of his upturned eye, glimmering a dark sapphire. The other eye is concealed beneath a medical eyepatch, which is unusual. He’s wiping the grease off his hands with a cloth, and Diluc tries not to look at the flex of muscle in his biceps as the man reaches up and slams the hood of the car closed.

 

The man flicks his mane of long sleek hair carelessly behind his shoulder, and he looks — he looks —

 

exactly like Diluc’s type. But Diluc is not going to think about that.

 

“Well, what brings you here today?” The man drawls lazily, and his front looks as good as his backside does. Diluc hates him for having his entire six-pack flagrantly just out there, in plain view. Has this man ever heard of a shirt before? Unfortunately, the man is unaware of his growing struggle and continues on speaking.

 

“I assume you ran into some emergency car trouble? You don’t look like you’re from these parts.” He shoots an assessing glance at Diluc’s coat, his two-thousand-Mora boots, and the impeccably pressed lines of his suit, running his eyes up and down Diluc’s body brazenly.

 

“It’s nothing much,” Diluc says, feeling strangely self-conscious. “Just my windshield wipers acting up. It’s right outside.”

 

“Sounds easy enough to fix. I’ll go have a look. You can go take a seat over there.” The man dismisses him, striding in the direction of Diluc’s car. “Normally I’d make fun of you, but it’s also precisely because of rich folk like you who don’t even know how to do the most basic of repairs that I get more business, so I can’t even be mad.”

 

Diluc frowns. He thinks of something to say, maybe challenge the other man’s assumption that he’s rich, but gives it up when he thinks of what the man will already see when he approaches the car. It’s an expensive model, Mondstadt-made, and it could probably have paid this shabby place’s rent for an entire year. He settles on watching the other man work, tinkering around in the insides of his car with a concentration that seemed almost out of place on him, slovenly as he looked.

 

“The windshield wiper fuse was burnt out,” the man comes back, looking pleased with himself. “I’ve replaced it with a new one, and it’s working good as new.” True to his word, they are. But Diluc is still apprehensive.

 

“That’s….it? You didn’t replace five other unnecessary parts in my car, or make repairs I didn’t ask for?” Diluc asks incredulously.

 

“If you were any other rich bastard, you would have been lucky to leave with money still remaining in your wallet,” the man chuckles. “But I decided to play nice today.”

 

“So, how much do I owe you?” Diluc braces himself for the number. But he couldn’t have braced himself for the unexpected answer that comes right out of the blue.

 

“Three hundred Mora and a drink with me, deal?” The man says, smirking.

 

“I’m not gay.” Diluc responds almost instinctively, taken aback by his bold suggestion.

 

“That’s funny,” replies the man just as smoothly. “I could’ve sworn you were checking out my ass, like, five minutes ago.”

 

Diluc flushes furiously.

 

“I did no such thing,” he sputters. “Here’s your Mora.”

 

“It’s fine to just say so if you’re not interested,” says the man, unruffled. He pockets the money, leaning back to rest a hip on the edge of a worktable. “You don’t have to pretend.”

 

“No, I-I… I wasn’t. I wasn’t pretending,” says Diluc. “I’ve only dated girls before. And I like girls.”

 

“But?” The man prompts, letting the word hang in between them.

 

“I don’t know.” Diluc says. “I don’t think I’m straight either. At least I don’t think I am.”

 

“I’ll let you think about it,” says the man, casually sidling up, right into Diluc’s personal space. He presses something into his palm with one hand, and makes Diluc close his fingers around it with the other. It’s a string of numbers, scrawled messily on the back of a receipt in black marker.

 

“Text me if you make up your mind,” he says finally, his hand lingering far longer than was necessary, still curled around Diluc’s own hand, a firm comforting warmth.

 

“Can I at least have your name?” Diluc asks, trying not to let the blush rise to his cheeks at the man’s close proximity.

 

“Of course. You can call me Kaeya. And what’s yours, cutie?”

 

“Diluc.” Diluc says haltingly, retracting his hands from the other man’s grip.

 

“See you around. Drive safely.” Kaeya says, and walks away back into the depths of the workshop.

 

Diluc goes back to his car in a daze, and he’s so distracted that he nearly forgets how to start his car. The note sits snugly in his pocket, burning a hole into his skin even through the layers and layers of cloth. The rainstorm outside has let up slightly, but there’s another storm starting anew in his mind.

 

He tries to push everything out his mind, but the unbidden image still grips him in its clutches. He imagines, that man, sitting on top of him, sun-bronzed skin laid bare for him to see, the muscles in his abdomen rippling in all their glory as he undulates his hips, grinding their aching groins even closer together.

 

That man looked like he fucked roughly. With his strength, he could pin Diluc prisoner underneath him easily, dominate him, push him down onto the mattress, hard, and Diluc could bury his face into the pillow and forget about everything, forget his stupid thankless job at the Knights, the stupid bureaucracy, the stupid mantle his father had made him take up, and lose himself in pure feeling.

 

Diluc shuts his eyes.

 

He can’t deny it. He likes the thought of sleeping with Kaeya, and the fact that he does scares him more than anything else.

 

When he reaches home, he saves a new contact on his mobile phone. He doesn’t know how to spell the other man’s name — Caya, Gaia, Kaiya? — and so he opts just to call him “mechanic”, short and simple and to-the-point.

 

He doesn’t text him though. He’s not ready for that yet.

 


 

Nearly a week passes before it occurs to Diluc that he really, really should text the guy back, if he wanted to take up his offer. But he doesn’t know how to begin. He’s always been the quiet sort, the sort who’ll respond to texts when prompted but never the one who initiates a conversation. He almost thinks of giving up and letting this go. Maybe he could just find someone else, settle with something safer within his comfort zone.

 

But every time he spaces out at work, he sees it again.

 

Tanned, sun-kissed skin, wicked blue-grey eyes, a lean, powerful build that was nearly all muscle — smirking down at him from above, tearing open a condom wrapper with his teeth as he strokes himself with his free hand — and Diluc expects he’d have a pretty cock to match that pretty face too, won’t he, that little incubus.

 

The notion won’t leave him, and he makes up his mind.

 

Fingers trembling, he texts a date, a time, and the address of a quaint little café not too far from his home. It’s too much for his heart to keep looking at the text conversation, so he turns it to airplane mode and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

 

By the time he turns his phone data back on, hours later, he waits painfully long for everything to load, heart in his throat. What if Kaeya had changed his mind already, or found someone else more willing? Kaeya certainly looked like the type who did not lack for company, with his disarmingly attractive exterior.

 

He finds a simple affirmative response from "Mechanic", accompanied by an animated sticker.

 

Diluc’s heart starts beating again.

 


 

Kaeya’s sitting in a table at the back, looking bored, but he gives a little start when he recognises the silhouette coming into the shop.

 

He waves to catch Diluc’s attention, as Diluc makes his way over and sits down.

 

“I almost thought you were never going to text me,” Kaeya says, almost chiding, but he doesn’t seem truly angry at all. “I thought it was a lost cause.”

 

“I wanted to,” says Diluc. “I just didn’t know where to begin. And I didn’t even know how to spell your name.”

 

Kaeya laughs at that, a real smile so wide it nearly splits his face in two.

 

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, taking the proffered phone and going to the contacts section. “I’ll fix that for you.”

 

“And I assume you already know how to spell my name from reading my car insurance sticker last time,” says Diluc wryly.

 

“Well, yes, I did read your name off there, but I didn’t want to come off like a creep, so I asked for your name properly, like a normal person.” Kaeya’s a bit abashed, handing Diluc his phone back. A glass of iced tapioca milk tea sits in front of him, and he stirs it with his straw with one hand. His other hand is under his chin, cupping his face, his elbows resting on the table.

 

“I hardly think a normal person would have suggested something like this to a complete stranger,” says Diluc. “You’ve got balls.”

 

“Of course I do,” laughs Kaeya, and it sounds sincere. Though with Kaeya, Diluc senses that he can’t really take anything he says at face value. Maybe if he had more time to get to know him, he might be able to tell which part of him was real and which part was fake, but this is only their second time meeting, after all.

 

“Now, we didn’t exactly come here to sit and talk, did we?” Kaeya breaks the silence, tilting his head off to the side, the ice clinking in the glass in front of him. He takes a slow sip of his drink, wrapping his lips around the thick tapioca straw, his eyes fixed on Diluc all the time.

 

He knows, Diluc thinks to himself. He knows how he looks when he sucks on that straw like that.

 

Then Kaeya pushes the drink forwards, across the table and towards Diluc, an obvious offering.

 

Diluc glances at the straw, still glistening at the tip innocuously.

 

Kaeya’s watching him closely, and Diluc’s not to be outdone by him. He dips his head, because he knows it makes his chin sharper, his eyes bigger, and just makes him look more flattering overall. Then he lifts his eyes from the straw back up to meet Kaeya’s, and puts his lips right to the place where Kaeya’s mouth was ten seconds ago.

 

He sips, the flavour of sugary sweet milk tea bursting across his tongue.

 


 

They find themselves in a hotel room, because that’s the easiest solution to their needs. Diluc fully relishes the sensation of being manhandled and thrown onto the bed, like a ragdoll, Kaeya’s hand hot on his thigh, searing its mark on his skin. It feels good, to lie back and let someone else do the work, something Diluc had never experienced before. He looks up, at Kaeya atop him, and the heat in his eyes scalds him with their intensity.

 

Diluc tips his head up, a wordless request for a kiss, and Kaeya indulges him. It is a kiss that feels like the culmination of the days and days of anticipation that had led up to this single moment, from the first moment their eyes had met in that garage. Kaeya’s lips were soft, gentle, at odds with his sly gaze and his sharp features, a pleasant surprise. He nibbles on Diluc’s bottom lip teasingly, before deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue inside his mouth, revelling in the way their lips slot together so easily, so naturally, as if they had been made for each other.

 

When he draws back again, they are both panting. Diluc has to admit, Kaeya’s good at this. He’s good at making Diluc want him, in ways that he had never expected. There’s an ache deep in his belly, stirred up by Kaeya’s skilful kiss, his hardness throbbing with growing need as Kaeya swoops down and kisses him again with a fervour that leaves Diluc breathless.

 

“Take off your shirt,” says Diluc, in the space between kisses, and his mouth goes dry as Kaeya leans back and does exactly that, his hands crossing in front of him to peel the thin fabric of his T-shirt up, revealing the rock hard abs Diluc had been salivating over ever since the first day he’d seen them. Kaeya continues, pulling the shirt up and above his face, and tosses it aside carelessly, smirking at Diluc.

 

“Like what you see?” He teases, and Diluc can’t help but blush in response.

 

“I’ve never done this before,” he says instead, looking away abashedly. “You have to teach me.”

 

“Trust me,” says Kaeya. “I’ll make it feel good for you.”

 

Kaeya’s tugging at Diluc’s clothes, but he can’t get them off fast enough. He slips a hand under his shirt, skimming up his chest to tug at his nipples, circling them with his calloused thumb. Diluc jerks at this, a hand flying to his mouth to stop the little cry escaping involuntarily.

 

Nnngh!

 

And then it gets ten times better when Kaeya lowers his head and latches his lips on his nipple, sucking and biting on the delicate skin there, the friction from his hand replaced with his mouth, which feels completely different — it’s both warm and wet at the same time, and Kaeya’s tongue is deftly nimble, toying with his nipple relentlessly, as Diluc squirms and tries not to get overcome by sensation.

 

“No… don’t play with there, stop, it feels, it feels… weird!”

 

Kaeya laughs, giving his nipple one last teasing nip before moving a hand on Diluc’s boxers. He tugs them down, shimmying them off his hips, and then his hand goes to pump Diluc’s cock. It’s a pretty thing, just the right size, pink and innocent and almost adorable in a way. Diluc shoots a glance at Kaeya’s obvious tent in between his legs, gauging its size — but even with that estimate in mind he has to gulp in apprehension when Kaeya pulls off his pants as well.

 

Kaeya is well-endowed, to say the least. His monster of a cock looks almost like a murder weapon, menacing in its size, a vein pulsing visibly down the side. When Kaeya presses their cocks together, the difference between their skin tones is made even starker. He curls a hand around both of them at the same time, using the pre-come weeping out of his slit as lubrication, smoothing the path to paradise for them both. Diluc’s eagerness surprises even himself, as he makes little aborted jerks of his hips up, rubbing up against Kaeya, chasing for more stimulation.

 

“You want it bad, don’t you?” Kaeya says darkly. “I’m going to take you apart and fuck you until you come on my cock, and then I’m going to fill you so full with my come that it’ll have to leak back out of you.” Out of seemingly nowhere he produces a bottle of lube, and he’s pouring a generous amount on his hands, and fear of the unknown clutches Diluc for a moment as he realises that it’s really happening — he’s nervous, he’s never tried this before, he’s never had a man do this to him — and then Kaeya’s kissing him again, more tenderly this time, as if sensing his distress, kissing him like Diluc was the only meaning in the world.

 

“Relax,” says Kaeya. “Trust me?”

 

Diluc only manages a short nod, too tense to think of the right words to say, and then the next moment he feels Kaeya’s fingers circling his hole, exploring tentatively before inserting a well-lubed finger in him. It’s a strange sensation, but not entirely unwelcome. It still feels good, just to lie back and be pinned down by Kaeya, who’s watching his face closely for any sign of discomfort.

 

“Kaeya!” Diluc cries in surprise when Kaeya deems him ready to slip a second finger into him. And then, pleasure stings him like an electric shock. “Please — yes — oh god!”

 

Kaeya curls his fingers against that spot again, satisfied when Diluc makes another strangled sound.

 

“Looks like you’re sensitive there, aren’t you, Diluc? Do you play with yourself back there often, or are you simply a natural?”

 

“I — never!” Diluc says. “No, I don’t…. it’s dirty….”

 

“Dirty? Then this will really shock you,” Kaeya says, retracting his fingers, and Diluc whimpers at the loss, before Kaeya shuts him up by running the flat of his tongue right up against his hole, tonguing at the sensitive skin around his perineum, mouthing at his balls, circling back to return his attention to his hole, the warm wet heat of his tongue pressing deep into the place where his fingers had just been.

 

“Kaeya! That’s… no… you’re gonna get sick,” Diluc moans.

 

“You’re too cute,” says Kaeya, and he goes at it again. Diluc thinks, this is it, he’s going to die, and he’s going to hell, because nothing in life should feel this good. Half of it is from Kaeya’s tireless sucking between his legs, and the other half is from the sheer thought that Kaeya’s willingly put his mouth down there just to pleasure him, and it’s unbearable. Diluc’s cock is so hard now it’s almost painful, leaking generous amounts of pre-come, and he closes his thighs around Kaeya’s head, trying to let him know about his predicament.

 

Kaeya raises his head, almost on cue, and Diluc can hear the rustling of the bedsheets as he moves back up and hovers above him, his weight pressing deliciously against Diluc. He stretches Diluc for some more with his fingers, scissoring his fingers and stretching him out until he’s satisfied. Under Diluc’s watchful gaze, Kaeya lines up his cock with his hole.

 

“Ready?” he whispers against Diluc’s ear. Diluc nods tightly, closing his eyes and turning away, and then Kaeya’s sinking into him, and he feels so impossibly big, like he’s splitting Diluc apart, and Diluc clenches almost instinctively around Kaeya. Even with all the foreplay and the preparation Kaeya’s done, it still stings when Kaeya presses the thick head of his cock past the first ring of muscle of his hole — Diluc has to blink back reflexive tears that spring to his eyes at the pain.

 

“Fuck, you’re so tight-” Kaeya hisses, trying to slow down, but Diluc pinching down on his cock like this is both heaven and torture at the same time.

 

Diluc whimpers, trying to adjust, his erection flagging from the discomfort of being penetrated, and Kaeya kisses away the wetness gathering at the corner of his eyes, so loving that Diluc could just forget the pain.

 

“Diluc, relax, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Kaeya coaxes. “You have to relax, or I won’t be able to go on.”

 

Diluc takes a deep breath, trying to do as he was told, and slowly, painstakingly, Kaeya eases himself all the way in, his eyes falling shut at the exquisite pressure around his cock. Diluc sheathes him perfectly, like a glove, stretched so tight that he imagines he can feel every ridge and bump of his walls pressed flat against his cock.

 

“You’re too big,” Diluc says, a hint of reproach in his voice. “It’s too full… nngh!” He breaks off as Kaeya moves experimentally, shifting in and out of him in small rocking motions, and he’s loose enough now that it doesn’t sting like before, but it still feels strange, not quite pleasurable, until Kaeya pulls out almost fully and thrusts into him forcefully, hitting a spot that sends a wave of white-hot sensation through his entire body.

 

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to recover, but he can’t, not when Kaeya does it again, and again, and again, angling his strokes so that he hit Diluc’s prostate every time. It’s unbearable — unbearably good, and he barely recognises the pleasured, choked moans he hears as his own voice. The slap of wet flesh against wet flesh is filthily loud in the room, but Diluc doesn’t care anymore. All he knows is the mind-numbing pleasure, the warmth of Kaeya’s lips against his, and the size of his cock, invading him in the softest, most hidden place in him. If it were anyone else, Diluc would never have imagined doing this kind of thing, but this is Kaeya, and Diluc just lies back and lets Kaeya do it, because he wants to.

 

He lets his face loll to the side as Kaeya strikes up a steady rhythm, alternating between deep, rough animalistic fucking and gentler, slower strokes. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. Diluc closes his eyes, letting himself get lost in the feeling, his legs hooked around Kaeya’s back, arching into his touch as Kaeya spares a hand to tease his nipples again. He meets Kaeya thrust for thrust, forcing him deeper inside him — he wants to keep him inside him forever. He’s clinging to him so hard that not even god himself could have parted their bodies — he could die like this, the two of them joined together, and he wouldn’t even complain. In that moment, it felt like there was nothing else he wanted more than to become one being with Kaeya.

 

The pleasure in his groin is building as Kaeya speeds up, his thrusts growing desperate and erratic as he chases his climax. Diluc reaches for his own cock, pumping himself in time with Kaeya’s thrusts, until it all becomes too much and blinding pleasure floods him, his world reduced to nothing but only Kaeya, Kaeya, Kaeya — he repeats his name like a mantra as he comes in thick spurts on himself, almost crying with relief. Kaeya fucks him through his aftershocks, and comes inside him, just like he said he would, and the hot wetness filling him makes him shudder from the utter perfection of it all.

 

Diluc blinks up at the ceiling, wondering if sex was always supposed to be this amazing, or if he’d just been having extremely mediocre sex all along.

 

“I told you I’d make you feel good, wouldn’t I?” Kaeya says from where he lies beside Diluc, boneless after his orgasm. “So, how was it? Good? Or was it so awful you’re gonna pick up your clothes and leave right now?”

 

Diluc buries his face into Kaeya’s chest, too embarrassed to admit anything.

 

Kaeya only laughs, and runs his fingers indulgently through Diluc’s long fluffy mane of hair.

 

“You’re really too cute,” he says, tucking the top of Diluc’s head underneath his chin. “When you get it up again, I’ll suck you off, just to hear you make those sounds again.”

 

Diluc makes a muffled sound of mock protest, but it’s clear he doesn’t mean it at all.

 

Kaeya watches him, warmth in his eyes. There’s a warmth growing in his heart too, an itch that wouldn’t go away, though he wouldn’t admit it to Diluc just yet. After all, he was positive that they still had plenty of time to get to know each other better, to take this beyond a single lust-filled encounter in a hotel room.

 

And when the right time came, maybe he’d tell Diluc all the secrets locked deep in his heart.

 

 


 

 

“I think we should go skating,” says Kaeya one day at dinner, wholly unprompted. They’ve got a whole routine going now, wine and dine and then a good fuck at a fancy hotel. Most of the time Diluc pays, because he can afford it and he doesn’t mind. But Kaeya dislikes being indebted to Diluc, so he tries to repay him in little favours and gifts. Sometimes, he offers Diluc his favourite flowers, little blue lampgrasses, but the gift he’d personally liked the most is a small keychain, on which a single handblown glass marble is strung. It’s clear, with specks of scarlet inside, like a dancing flame. He has a matching one himself, a light blue bead interspersed with specks of white, which he keeps dangling on his phone, despite the ridicule of his coworkers saying that it was “too girly”. Diluc must like his gift too, he supposes, since he could see that Diluc kept it on his keyring, clinking ostentatiously right next to his car keys every time he took them out.

 

Kaeya tries not to think too much of it, and turns back to Diluc.

 

“Well?” He prompts.

 

“I don’t know how to skate,” replies Diluc.

 

“I can teach you,” Kaeya offers. “Please, it’ll be fun.”

 

So they go out to the local rink on Diluc’s next leave from work. They’d chosen a weekday morning so that there was barely anyone on the rink except an ice dancer in the corner practising a routine, and Diluc praises the heavens for their foresight as he slips and stumbles for the umpteenth time on the ice, limbs in a haphazard undignified sprawl. At least there are less people here to witness his embarrassing failures.

 

“How do you do this?” He says in mock exasperation, wobbling as he pushes off the ice with one foot once more and attempts to slide forward without falling.

 

“You just do,” Kaeya returns, skating back over to his side effortlessly. “Don’t try to understand it. Just feel it.”

 

“I’m trying,” Diluc says, latching on Kaeya’s arm as tightly as his dignity would allow.

 

Yes, he could feel something, but he’s certain that this was not what Kaeya was referring to. There’s a pressure building in his chest, a warmth spreading from the skin in contact with Kaeya’s arm, permeating his entire being with that warm fuzzy feeling. At this distance, he could just see the profile of Kaeya’s face, his tall straight nose perfect from the side, lips curled in a smile that Kaeya himself seemed unaware of. The feeling bubbles up in his chest, boiling over, too much to bear. He can’t do it anymore. It’s ridiculous; it’s too much.

 

He stretches his hand to clutch at Kaeya’s, and he holds it, tightly. Diluc never wants to let go, never wants this to end, and he realises: he wants more than just a fuck with Kaeya. He wants more soft warm moments like this, more laughter, more hugs, more simple touches that didn’t always have to lead towards the bedroom. He wants to wake up next to Kaeya every morning, to have the luxury of admiring his face in slumber, to lean over his shoulder from behind and tuck his face into the crook of his neck as Kaeya stirred a pot of something on the stove……

 

“Hey, Kaeya,” he says softly, almost trembling in agitation. “I have something I want to ask you.”

 

“Go ahead,” comes the reply. Diluc hesitates, and then thinks, fuck it. He opens his mouth.

 

“Will you… will you be my boyfriend?”

 

He sees Kaeya’s uncovered eye widen just for a second, before happiness lights up his face like a firework.

 

“Yes,” says Kaeya, “Oh, yes, yes, yes.” His eye is glimmering with wild emotion as he tightens his grip around Diluc, and Diluc’s breath catches in his throat at how beautiful Kaeya looks like this, smiling genuinely for once.

 

Kaeya’s painfully easy to read now for Diluc, but Diluc is never going to tell him.

 

Diluc presses his hands on the back of Kaeya’s head, tugging him down for a kiss, and ignores the stares of everyone else in the rink as he presses his lips right against his, lightly, chastely. His heart is so full it feels almost like bursting, and he knows — he knows, this is Celestia.