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Like a lot of college students, Diluc absolutely hates his life. Existence is misery and pain fills every moment of every day. He hates getting up at seven in the morning to be in class at eight, hates the time that his car takes to defrost in the winter and he wholeheartedly despises every single one of his classmates, a personality trait he probably should have parted with once he turned seventeen but that’s still very much part of his character.
Most days, music is the only thing that makes life tolerable. That, and Diluc’s brother, if he has to be completely honest.
But mostly music.
This particular morning, Diluc is so pissed off that he’s barely humming along to Teenagers blasting from his car radio. He may be grumpy by default but today he’s got a valid reason to be in a terrible mood, for once.
As mentioned before, music is one of the things he appreciates the most in this wretched world, especially alternative rock, preferably 2010s emo pop-punk. Especially My Chemical Romance, which he was supposed to attend with his brother the following Sunday. That is until Kaeya came down with a terrible cold that left him bedridden with a fever so high Diluc doesn’t even have the heart to blame him. Still. He hopes he learns his lesson about never wearing a scarf in the winter.
Being the caring older brother he is, Diluc brought his brother some soup and pointedly did not express how crushed he felt. It isn’t Kaeya’s fault, and somehow that makes him even angrier. He’s got no one to be mad at.
Granted, nothing’s stopping him from attending the concert alone. It’s his favorite band and these tickets were expensive. The only reason Diluc has a part-time job at a bar is to be able to afford concert tickets for these occasions. He lives in a big city and goes to a lot of them with Kaeya so it would have been fine if it were any other band, but this is My Chemical Romance, the band that got him through the worst times of his life, the band whose songs make him want to bash his skull against a wall, and also the only one he needs to cross on the list of his favorite bands that he has seen live.
He can’t miss this concert, but the idea of standing alone in the crowd makes him want to die. He’ll look like a friendless loser at best and a psychopath at worst.
The concert’s in two days and he has no idea who he’s going to invite. That is if he invites anyone at all. He has a total of two friends, five if he’s being generous and none of them are into this kind of music. He doesn’t want a pity buddy.
He’s getting a coffee at the overpriced café near the building where he attends his morning classes when he gets a text from Kaeya. That makes him raise an eyebrow. Given how sick he was the day before, there’s no reason for him to be awake at this ungodly hour.
kaeya : !! Good news, I found a way to un-ruin your life
Diluc sighs and the barista gives him a compassionate smile before handing him his coffee. He’s tempted to gulp it in one go, feeling a headache incoming. It’s way too early for Kaeya to be scheming.
diluc: what have you done
kaeya: always so little faith in me ☹ im wounded, brother.
diluc: WHAT have you done
kaeya: I found you a concert buddy
Diluc pinches the bridge of his nose. That is precisely the opposite of what he wants. If there was someone he could ask, he would have done so already.
diluc: who is it?
kaeya: Dainsleif.
diluc: please tell me you’re kidding.
kaeya: come on. He’s in your class. You’re almost friends.
diluc: I have never spoken to him how does that make him my friend???
Diluc knows exactly who Dainsleif is. Tall, blonde, and if he has to be honest, quite handsome.
kaeya : well now you have another friend. No need to thank me
diluc: I’m going to kill you.
kaeya: Hey, he’s actually nice, don’t be like that. You don’t even know him yet.
He can’t figure out for the life of him how Kaeya managed to befriend someone who’s two years older than him and socializes even less than Diluc.
He hates that it’s not impossible that Kaeya saw how Dainsleif’s always dressed in black and thought “that’s a perfect fit for my friendless brother.”
diluc : He barely speaks to anyone. He’s a weirdo.
kaeya: see, you already have two things in common <3
Diluc represses the urge to throw his phone at the nearest wall but decides against it. But then again, if he’s going to be hanging out with Dainsleif of all people, he might as well act like a weirdo.
He knows he’s being harsh and that his “I hate everybody, especially the people I have never spoken to” demeanor stopped being cute after he turned eighteen, but he can’t help it. He does not want to go through all the trouble of befriending someone new, especially someone as closed off as Dainsleif.
They’re both introverts. This is going to be a disaster.
kaeya: by the way, I didn’t randomly ask him if he wanted the ticket. I know he likes MCR just as much as you do.
Diluc raises an eyebrow. That’s something, at least. Even though he highly doubts anyone can like MCR as much as he does.
*
The only class that Diluc and Dainsleif share is Information Systems Management. No one likes that class and after half a semester, Diluc still can’t believe it’s a requirement in his major. The name of the class alone sounds fake. He can’t understand a single thing the professor is saying and he’s well aware that unless he pulls himself together and applies to tutoring, he’s going to fail the class.
That’s a problem he’ll deal with later. Right now, the one at the top of his list of priorities is sorting through the mess Kaeya’s made of his plans for this weekend. The concert is going to be awkward in any case, but maybe Diluc can make it less unbearable by talking to Dainsleif first.
He never really paid him any mind. Just like him, Dainsleif mostly keeps to himself and looks gloomy in a corner of the classroom. He suddenly comes to the realization that Kaeya’s right , they do have that in common, and that thought is enough to ruin Diluc’s entire morning. Entirely out of spite directed at his brother, he finds the strength to slide into the seat next to Dainsleif.
He can do this.
His newfound confidence melts away as soon as Dainsleif turns and his sleepy eyes focus on him.
Diluc has disturbed the careful balance of that classroom, the order that’s been in place since the beginning of the semester. Keqing, Ganyu, and Ningguang sit in the front and answer the professor’s questions most of the time, keeping him distracted from the other scattered students who are there because they are forced to. Diluc usually sits near the window and untangles his earphones while waiting for the class to begin, and Dainsleif dozes off with his headphones on near the heater. It’s always been like this.
This morning, he takes them off to respond to Diluc’s unenthusiastic “ Hey .”
For a split second, Diluc gets distracted by the way his hair’s gotten messy from removing his headset.
“Hi.” Dainsleif replies.
Diluc hates this. He’s not good at making friends, not even good at keeping up with the ones he has. But he wants to go to this fucking concert.
“Apparently we’re going to a concert together this Sunday, thanks to my brother.”
“Yeah. He was very persuasive.”
Diluc wants to kill himself.
“I’m going to kill him,” he says instead. “Look, I don’t know what he told you but you really don’t have to do this.”
Dainsleif quirks an eyebrow.
“Would you prefer to go alone?”
“No. Not really. But I don’t want you to go because Kaeya forced you to accept. It makes me look like a friendless weirdo who can’t go to a concert on his own.”
He pinches his nose.
“Which might be what I am. But that’s my problem.”
He’s rambling. It only happens when he’s embarrassed.
He’s about to take his bag and leave the class altogether to move to the other end of Teyvat and never think about this interaction ever again when something unexpected happens. The barest hint of a smile quirks at Dainsleif’s lips.
“From one friendless weirdo to another, it would be my honor.”
Diluc chuckles, more out of nervousness than anything else.
“I really like that band.” Dainsleif clarifies. “So don’t worry, he didn’t force me.”
“As you should,” Diluc replies before he can stop himself.
That makes Dainsleif snort.
“I have a car,” Diluc says. “I can drive us if that’s more convenient.”
“That would be nice. Thanks. But maybe we should discuss this after class, I think he’s about to start.”
Diluc nods and opens his bag to get his computer. Then, he pauses.
“You actually understand what he’s saying?”
“Yeah.”
Alright, he’s the only lame idiot who’s failing this class, apparently.
“Are you having trouble with it?” Dainsleif asks, eyes still trained on the teacher.
Diluc sighs.
“Yes. I’m probably going to apply for tutoring because I really don’t want to be forced to take this class a second time.”
“I can help.”
Diluc turns to look at him. In turn, Dainsleif stares at him. His expression doesn’t tell Diluc anything. He’s very hard to read, but if this first interaction is any indication, he seems way nicer than he expected. Which makes him feel like an asshole for calling him a weirdo.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know. But since you’re driving, I can repay the favor. If it helps you feel less embarrassed about it.”
Diluc fights the blush creeping up his face.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Diluc starts taking notes and heaves a sigh of relief. Surprisingly, he did survive this morning.
*
Diluc picks Dainsleif up a few hours before the concert, in front of his apartment building. As he slides in the passenger seat wearing a shirt from MCR’s last tour and a little more eyeliner than usual, Diluc starts to think that maybe, just maybe , Kaeya picked the right guy for the job. He probably would have been embarrassed by his own outfit if it was anyone else, but Dainsleif’s the only one on campus who rivals his goth-emo-punk energy. He could probably outmatch him if it wasn’t for Diluc’s red hair.
He still looks better than him in skinny jeans, though.
The drive to the arena is a little more than an hour, and while Diluc is less afraid of any awkwardness since he sat next to Dainsleif in class, he still prays to whatever god is listening that it passes quickly.
Once they start ranking their favorite albums, it passes by in a flash.
He kind of hates to admit that Kaeya was right. Sometimes his little brother does know what he’s doing.
As they stand next to each other in the pit, between other sweaty and impatient emo kids, Diluc barely fights back a grin.
When the band finally gets on stage and opens with Welcome to the Black Parade , he stands in the crowd and watches as his heart grows ten times bigger. When he steals a glance at Dainsleif during the second verse, he looks just as emotional as him, eyes trained on the lead singer who’s currently making this the best day of their lives, most likely.
Once the initial shock and euphoria from the first song wash out as the band moves to a less well-known song, Diluc notices that Dainsleif hasn’t moved by an inch. His lips aren’t moving and he’s looking at the stage like he’s attending church on a Sunday – which Diluc would totally get if it wasn’t for the unhinged crowd around them.
He wants to move along the music with them, he wants to look as insane as them, and while he has no problems doing that when it’s Kaeya next to him, he barely knows Dainsleif. Sure, they could probably become friends with enough time, enough boring classes, and mind-blowing concerts, but today isn’t precisely that day yet.
Still, he can’t spend the concert mirroring Dainsleif’s corpse energy. So he settles for tapping his feet along to the music and singing at a reasonable volume, slightly increasing every time they sing one of his favorite songs.
When they get to Mama , he can sense Dainsleif slightly breaking out of his trance. He sees his lips mouth mama we all go to hell, and his body slightly swaying to the rhythm of the song.
He knows it’s his favorite. He does because that’s all they talked about in the car since they’re both absolute losers.
When they get to the chorus, he nudges Dainsleif’s arm and looks straight at him, all embarrassment was forgotten because it’s dark anyway and they’re at a fucking MCR concert.
Mama we’re all full of lies, mama we’re meant for the flies, he sings .
Without missing a beat, Dainsleif adds:
And right now they’re building a coffin your size, Mama we’re all full of lies.
Well mother look what the war did to my legs and to my tongue.
You should have raised a baby girl
I should've been a better son
If you could coddle the infection
They can amputate at once
You should've been
I could have been a better son
Diluc smirks and the next second, they’re both singing the chorus at the top of their lungs.
And when we go, don’t blame us, we’ll let the fire just bathe us
For the tenth time that day, Diluc thinks “Yeah, Kaeya was right.”
*
They’re sitting in a booth at the diner closest to the arena, fingers greasy from eating mildly good burgers when Diluc learns that it’s Dainsleif’s first concert.
“Seriously?” he asks, incredulous. “But you’re wearing a shirt from their last tour.”
Dainsleif nods, wiping his hands on a napkin that’s way too small for all the ketchup on his fingers.
“A friend got it for me.”
That makes it three things Diluc was wrong about. Dainsleif has friends. He isn’t a weirdo. And he hasn’t been to a concert ever before.
“I’m a little less jealous now. But why did you wait so long? There are good concerts every two months in this city.”
Dainsleif leans a little forward on the table and says:
“I guess I was afraid they wouldn’t be as good if I saw them live.”
“Yeah. I’ve seen some bands that were pretty terrible so I can’t blame you.”
“I liked this one, though.”
His eyes are still gleaming with some of the remaining euphoria from before. Diluc can still feel it in his bones.
“I sure hope you did. They were amazing. Probably in my top three.”
“What are the two others?” Dainsleif asks like he’s genuinely interested.
“Simple Plan and Fall out Boy.”
Dainsleif nods.
“I think I’d like to see Fall Out Boy if they ever come back to this city.”
Diluc thinks about offering to go with him but decides against it. He doesn’t want to look desperate. Besides, it’s not like they’ll be touring anytime soon, with no new album to be seen in the past four years.
They spend so long in that dirty booth, eating the last scraps of their fries and chatting about music that suddenly it’s midnight and he has three missed calls from Kaeya.
He checks his messages as they walk through the parking lot.
kaeya: yo, did you pass out when they sang famous last words or what
diluc: we’re going home now
kaeya: oooh did you just make a friend?? ;)
Diluc smiles at himself. Maybe he did.
He doesn’t reply.
Dainsleif’s asleep by the time Diluc reaches his apartment building. He doesn’t know how to wake him up without startling him so he spends a few seconds looking at him, unsure of what to do with himself. He notices, unhelpfully, how handsome he is. It’s easier to see when he isn’t frowning like he’s wary that the entire world’s out to get him.
He settles for lightly tapping his shoulder and Dainsleif rouses, blinking. When his eyes focus on Diluc’s face, he sighs.
“We’re here,” Diluc says like it isn’t obvious.
Dainsleif stretches and Diluc stares unabashedly at his collarbones.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he says.
“You’re fine,” he says, then immediately corrects himself. “I mean, it’s fine.”
Dainsleif nods, probably too sleepy to have heard him.
“I had a good time. Thanks for letting me crash your concert.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad it was you, by the way. Kaeya wouldn’t know the lyrics to any of these songs, he just goes with me because he’s nice.”
Nicer than he deserves, probably.
Dainsleif clears his throat.
“Well, if you ever want to do this again, you know who to ask.”
Diluc nods, strangely relieved.
“I don’t have your number, though. I wouldn’t know where to reach you.”
Dainsleif’s lips curve in the barest shape of a smile and Diluc mentally stabs himself, just realizing how it probably sounded. Dainsleif still gives him his number.
After the car door shuts, Diluc asks himself why this feels so much like they were just on a date.
You’re being ridiculous , he tells himself as he starts the car again.
If this had been a date, he would have been disappointed that it didn’t end with a kiss. Which he isn’t.
*
A concert turns into two, which turns into three, until he realizes that the MCR concert was just the first of a line of dominos leading to him having coffee with Dainsleif every Friday and hanging out with him most weekends, listening to crappy music podcasts and driving around the suburbs.
He eventually comes to terms with the fact that he genuinely enjoys spending time with Dainsleif and that having a concert buddy is just an added bonus at this point.
It’s kind of the equivalent of making friends in middle school with someone who also likes the color red, but he’ll take it. It has tremendously improved his college experience to have someone he can rant about it with.
“Two more years,” he mutters, his head upside down as he’s laying across Dainsleif’s bed, feeling the blood rush to his brain. “Then, we’ll finally be free from this hell.”
Dainsleif sighs from where he’s sprawled on the fluffy carpet. On the shelf next to him, the oldest hi-fi system known to man is playing I’m Just a Kid by Simple Plan.
“I hate to be that guy, but the working world seems to be as fucking terrible.”
“What do we do, then?”
“Wait for Fall Out Boy’s next album, I guess. After that, we’ll see if life is still worth living.”
“Fair enough.”
His mind definitely does not linger on other things he’d like to do before dying as Dainsleif stretches and his eyes zeroes in on the patch of naked skin between his dark jeans and the faded grey Bring Me the Horizon shirt he’s wearing.
Every day Diluc tries a little harder to convince himself that he doesn’t have a crush on Dainsleif. Granted, there are some potential clues scattered over the past few months that could point to him liking him back, but he would hate to be wrong, he would hate to lose this, so he shoves them away. That is, until the next time Dainsleif does something that makes his heart panic, like there’s no more oxygen in the room, like offering to help fix his black nail polish, for example.
These thoughts resurface on a rainy Friday, as they’re on break and the campus is drenched by the kind of rain that used to convince Diluc to stay in bed. He hasn’t skipped classes in four months.
The rain might not be enough to deter them from running to the coffee shop, but the slippery pavement probably should have been.
Dainsleif’s hand grab Diluc’s waist just in time to prevent him from crashing face-first into it. Which, regrettably, startles him and makes Dainsleif stumble as well until they’re both groaning in pain on the floor.
“Sorry,” he mutters as the rain finishes soaking his hair. “I have terrible balance.”
Dainsleif doesn’t seem fazed by it – but then again, nothing fazes him. He looks up at Diluc with an expression that sits somewhere between fascination and fondness as he brushes away the wet bangs that stick to his forehead.
“Maybe you’d see where you’re going a little better if you got a haircut,” he says, and that’s enough to make Diluc flush.
You’d think that moment would have been enough to convince him that Dainsleif likes him, but it isn’t.
It’s not until yet another rainy day at the university that Diluc gets his long-awaited epiphany.
He’s in the library, desperately trying to reach a textbook on a high shelf when Dain’s familiar voice asks from behind him:
“Do you need help?”
Diluc turns around and sighs, which is enough of an answer. Dainsleif reads his mind and takes a step toward him. Diluc’s eyes widen as he reaches for the book over his head, trapping him against his chest, bringing them closer than they’ve ever been. In this position, he’s acutely aware of their slight height difference. He’d have to stand on his tip-toes to –
“Which one is it?”
Diluc’s too distracted by the muscles of Dainsleif’s neck, flexing right before his eyes and close enough for him to bite.
“Accounting Volume 3. Please,” he says, swallowing hard.
He looks everywhere but at Dainsleif’s lips, choosing to focus on the slight layer of water on his leather jacket, left from the rain outside. Still, his perfume hits his nose and he resists the urge to lean into him because they’re already way too close, no matter how inviting the curve between his neck and shoulder looks. He exhales, nails digging into his palms.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling dazed when Dainsleif gives him the book and moves back.
“No problem.”
*
Kaeya, when Diluc finally musters the courage to talk to him, unhelpfully explodes into laughter.
“No way,” he mocks. “How could that happen? Definitely didn’t see it coming.”
Diluc’s eyes narrow suspiciously at him.
“Did you plan this?” he suddenly asks.
He’s well aware of how far ahead his brother’s schemes can go back.
Kaeya merely smiles at him, patting his shoulder.
“I’m flattered that you think I’d be able to accomplish such a feat. But sadly you’re just gay, Diluc. You did it all by yourself. Congratulations.”
“I hate you,” Diluc says, fondly. “Now, please help me.”
Kaeya shrugs.
“Well, since he’s been obviously flirting with you, I think you should put him out of his misery. Ask him out.”
Diluc blinks at him like he just suggested he throw himself off the school’s building.
He’s never asked anyone out before. His only relationship involved a blue-haired lunatic he never wants to think about ever again, and said lunatic had been the one to ask him out, starting whatever relationship they had going on during Diluc’s second year.
“Right,” Kaeya says, reading his mind. “You’ve been relying on your pretty privilege and mysterious boy aura so much that you don’t have any experience in doing so.”
Diluc scoffs.
“Excuse me? Like people don’t throw themselves at you at the first chance they get.”
He still gets nightmares from Kaeya and Childe’s pre-relationship days. The man was willing to part with both his wallet and dignity to get his brother to date him.
“They’d do the same with you if you didn’t have a “Fuck off” sign tattoed on your forehead.”
“Are you going to help me or not?” Diluc grunts.
Kaeya throws an arm around his shoulder and starts to whisper into his ear like they’re in public and plotting a heist, despite the fact that they’re in their pajamas in the living room of their apartment.
“Here’s what you’re going to do…”
*
Diluc isn’t a fan of Kaeya’s plan for the timing of his first move. Firstly, it’s a hit or miss. If Dainsleif doesn’t like him back, this is going to be terribly embarrassing. Secondly, it involves a public display of affection, which he absolutely loathes and is sure Dainsleif does too. Lastly, it’s going to make him anxious during the entire concert.
However, he doesn’t have any better ideas. And a voice at the back of his head reminds him that he was scared before his first concert with Dainsleif, and five months later, he can’t imagine his life if he hadn’t accepted to go with him.
He can do this. He has to do this.
He isn’t feeling all that strong anymore after three hours of sitting outside the arena under a giant sign notifying everyone in the neighborhood that The Killers are performing tonight.
“Are you alright?” Dainsleif asks. “You’ve been quiet today.”
Diluc nods frantically, perhaps a little too quickly to be believable,
“I’m fine. Just tired of waiting.”
“I saved an episode from a podcast if you want to listen to it with me.”
Diluc takes the offered earphone and looks away when Dainsleif’s shoulder presses against his. He closes his eyes and lets the animator’s voice lull him into a false sense of comfort.
When they finally enter the pit, Diluc feels the knot in his stomach tighten. This is it. In a few minutes, he’ll have to take that leap of faith.
He’s scared to death. He desperately wants this to work out. He’s going to screw this up.
All these thoughts vanish when the band arrives on stage. As they open with Mr. Brightside , Diluc watches Dainsleif sing his heart out and idly wonders where the boy he took to the MCR concert went, that guy who barely batted an eyelash when Gerard Way sang Welcome to the Black Parade and that same guy he thought was weird, too closed off and perhaps too similar to him to be a good match, but ended up being exactly what he needed. What he wanted.
What he wants.
When Dainsleif notices him staring, it’s too late to turn around. Diluc grabs him by the front of his leather jacket, stands on his tiptoes, and pulls him into a kiss in a moment of fearlessness.
Dainsleif meets him halfway like he’s been waiting forever for Diluc to do this. He kisses him back without any regard to the crowd around him who barely notice them anyway, slinging an arm around his waist and holding him close. When they finally part, the band has moved to a different song, one Diluc will now remember for the rest of his days as the one he kissed Dainsleif to.
It's still a great song.
It’s a great song and a greater concert, during which they exchange glances and smiles and perhaps a few other kisses scattered across the setlist, barely holding back from straight up making out in the middle of the pit.
*
They also kiss in Diluc’s car and then in Dainsleif’s hallway and then in Dainsleif’s bed.
He’s been in his room so many times in the past few months that it shouldn’t feel foreign but crossing the threshold is still exhilarating, but not as much as the way Dainsleif shrugs off his jacket and immediately focuses his attention on him again.
Diluc drags him down into a kiss, and wonders if this will ever feel less like he’s going to explode with how much he feels. He’s wholly uninterested in what happens anywhere outside that room, nothing exists anymore besides him and the man he’s kissing.
As Dainsleif’s kissing his neck, Diluc idly remembers how they ended up in the same concert arena simply because his brother was sick, wondering if this is a strange twist of fate that it was all it took for them to find each other.
“Are you alright?” Dainsleif asks, noticing him spacing out.
He’s shirtless and straddling his hips, and Diluc’s never been this turned on in his entire life. He shouldn’t be spacing out.
“What are you thinking about?” Dainsleif asks, lips brushing against his ear.
If possible, he flushes an even deeper shade of red.
“Just thinking about how glad I am that Kaeya caught that cold. And that you accepted to take that ticket.”
Dainsleif slowly turns to look into his eyes and caresses his cheek, the gesture so tender that Diluc wants to melt into the mattress.
“Can I tell you something?” Dainsleif asks.
“You’ve never needed to ask before.”
Dainsleif smiles, fingers tracing Diluc’s jaw. He shivers.
“Kaeya never offered me that ticket.”
Diluc’s eyes narrow.
“But he was sick. I was there.”
“Yeah, he was, but I asked him for it when I happened to hear he couldn’t go. Because I knew you would be there.”
“So when you said it was your first concert-“
“It was the truth. I didn’t lie to you.”
Diluc’s brain fails to provide him with a reason for all of that.
“So why did you-“
Dainsleif leans down to kiss the shell of his ear.
“Because I had spent the past few months trying to find a way to go talk to you. And I wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity.”
Diluc closed his eyes, feeling too much all at once. He combs his fingers through Dainsleif’s hair.
“Kaeya didn’t plan this,” he whispers. “You did.”
Dainsleif nods. The mere thought that he wanted him the entire time is enough to make Diluc feel lightheaded. He retraces the past few months in his head or tries to because he’s too focused on holding Dainsleif closer and reveling in the feeling of his lips mapping his collarbone.
There was nothing friendly about this from the beginning. He is such an idiot. None of it was platonic, certainly, not the way Dainsleif’s palm sometimes lingered on the small of his back, not the way they were sitting so close to one another in the rain while they waited for Evanescence, and their quiet mornings in Diluc’s car before class weren’t that friendly either.
“That was quite smart of you,” Diluc says, trying and failing to sound anything else than flustered and needy.
Dainsleif kisses him on the lips, lingering. It’s the sweetest thing and Diluc never wants to be anywhere else.
What a flawlessly executed plan. He can’t bring himself to care that none of this was accidental, not when it ended up with Dainsleif on top of him, kissing marks into his neck.
Diluc drags him back to his lips. He doubts he’ll ever get enough of him.
“I swear I’m not a psycho,” Dainsleif whispers, inches away from his mouth. “It’s just-“
He sighs.
“I knew it wouldn’t be easy to get close to you. But I thought that we, that you-“
His hand finds Diluc’s. His voice is much softer than it was a few minutes ago.
Diluc understands what he’s struggling to put into words anyway. They’re perfect for each other.
“Well done, mastermind. Now kiss me again.”