Chapter Text
“So, let me summarize…”
Four words. Two people. One contract. Zero fucks given.
Or at least, as Diluc sat facing the contract he’d established for his future (fingers crossed) albeit unusual business partner, he liked to pretend he wasn’t single-handedly responsible for the inflation of the fucks-given currency. Had he been more rational (or rather, less delusional), he might have caught on the irony of this situation. After all, the sheer existence of the leaflet between him and the (soon ex-)bodyguard who’d uttered those four words was, in fact, proof that he had plenty fucks to give about the reason he’d summoned him. A reason which may or may not be the missing ‘three’ in this countdown—not a love triangle but a cheating angle.
… Yeah. What a mess. A mess Diluc’s ex had kindled with his whack decisions, but it wasn’t like Diluc had to take the bait and come up with an even bigger mess. In fact, a mature person would have thrown away the save-the-date wedding card sent by their cheating ex, not spearheaded a whole business plan on how to even the score.
In this case, the ‘how’ was a tall, dark, and handsome man with an eye patch and more than one question in his seeing blue eye.
His name was Kaeya, and he was, understandably, confused.
As if on cue, Kaeya cleared his throat, rereading the contract for the fifth time. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend,” he started, and with each word, Diluc inwardly sank deeper in those quicksands of shame of his own making.
“Fiancé,” Diluc corrected. “Or rather, fiancé-to-be.”
“Right. You want me to act like your fiancé to, uh… get back at your ex for cheating on you?”
It was technically a ‘joined project between both collaborators—in this case, Diluc Ragnvindr and Kaeya Alberich—effective from October 2nd, 2024, to simulate romantic attachment for the restoration of the employer’s pride following his former partner’s fallacious behavior and subsequent save-the-date invitation to his wedding with the target of said behavior’ (sic), but yeah.
That was the gist of it.
“Is there anything wrong?” Diluc asked as Kaeya plunged back into reading—sixth time now. Truthfully, he should have asked himself if anything in this plan was right.
Outside of their bubble—a private room Diluc had booked in La Part des Anges, one of his favorite five-star restaurants—the world went on unperturbed by the circus he starred in as a clown.
“No, it’s just… I mean, yes?” Kaeya sighed. “I’m a bodyguard. I offer protection. Not…”
“Consider this to be the protection of my reputation, then.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not an escort. Not even for this price—” He stopped abruptly, flipped through the contract, and arched his eyebrows as he reread the section about his salary. Oh, it was a hefty sum.
Diluc joined his hands together, leveling Kaeya’s gaze. “Please, don’t misunderstand. I’m not asking for any intimate service. I would also rather not do ostentatious public displays of affection. No kissing, no…” His cheeks reddened, but he kept on staring, impassive. It was his specialty to look composed when inwardly he was anything but. “You know. Obviously. Nothing more than I did with him in public.” Or in private, really; as soon as Diluc stopped pretending he enjoyed sleeping with him, his ex stopped pretending he cared about him.
“I see. Apologies—I sometimes get wild requests, so I assumed…”
Diluc wasn’t sure what about ‘please be my fake boyfriend to make my ex seethe’ wasn’t wild, but he didn’t want to know what else Kaeya had seen. “Stay assured, my boundaries are likely stricter than yours.”
“Alright. Thanks for the, uh, clarification.” Kaeya seemed to wage an internal war, if his gaze switching from his salary to Diluc’s poker face was anything to go by. “So, what do you expect from me?”
Diluc’s hands jerked. He hid them from sight as he continued: “Hand-holding, occasional hugs at most. I don’t like being touched much. Pet names are fine. Just say I’m amazing and that you’re so lucky to have me.”
The smile twitching on Kaeya’s lips was yet another nail on Diluc’s coffin. “What kind of work do you do, again?”
“I’m a research mathematician.” At Kaeya’s surprise, he continued: “Did you expect something else?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a screenwriter or something.”
“I’m very serious.”
Oh, no. Not the pity stare. “So, why me then?” Kaeya asked as he scratched his cheek.
“I need someone that can make him insecure,” Diluc explained. “He’s handsome and self-obsessed. Thinks himself above mankind because he has a jawline.” He grimaced. The more he spoke, the more he wondered what he’d ever seen in that breathing trashcan. “You have everything he does but better—and you make it look effortless. Exactly the type of people he hates.”
“I assume that’s a compliment,” Kaeya commented.
“It is an objective statement; make of that what you will.” Diluc crossed his arms. “More practically speaking, I specifically sought out a bodyguard for the added bonus of secrecy,” he admitted. “You sign NDAs all the time. You know the drill. Anyone can sign an NDA, but not everyone knows the drill.”
“You think people would risk a lifetime’s worth of savings in fines for a few minutes of clout?”
Diluc challenged his defiant gaze. “Say someone covers those fines for you and doubles my salary in exchange for all my secrets. Would you take the job?”
“No.”
“Why? And don’t give me cliché answers like ‘honesty’ or a ‘moral code’. We both know that’s ridiculous.”
The spark in Kaeya’s eye could have been amusement, could have been mockery. Either way, it was getting on Diluc’s nerves. “It’s a career suicide,” Kaeya stated calmly. “A bodyguard that can’t keep secrets is worthless. That, and angering the mastermind of this kind of plans, who can also afford several more zeroes on my salary than I was ever offered, and sponsors my favorite wine… That would be dumb, wouldn’t it?”
Diluc stared at him, unflinching. “So you did do your research. Why ask for my occupation, then?”
“Doesn’t hurt to hear it from you.” His smile grew cryptic. “I do background checks on all my clients. It’s not personal.”
Diluc straightened his back, realization dawning on him.
He was also being assessed.
And somehow, Kaeya’s assessment was, thus far, not as drastic as Diluc’s therapist’s would be. He hadn’t run out of this room (yet) after all; good news, right?
Slowly, Diluc nodded, considering the bodyguard in silence. “I completely understand. Trust is a two-way street.” He cleared his throat, wondering how far he should extend this virtual hand. Was an agreement possible, despite their bizarre circumstances? “I’m ready to answer any personal inquiry if it eases your concerns,” he offered, opting to lay all his cards on the table. “Within dignity.” (Almost all.)
Kaeya tapped his fingers on the table, no more readable after this token of trust than he’d been before. “It’s a bit late for that.”
“If you’re not interested, just say so and spare me the judgment,” Diluc concluded calmly, ignoring his flaring anger (and shame, and frustration) as he gathered his things. He was perfectly aware this entire mission was a train wreck. But he was also wounded in his ego, and there was nothing quite as determined as a nerd with a vengeful agenda and the ability to hyperfixate for hours on whatever tickled his brain. Sometimes, that just happened to be the pettiest plan in existence.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” Kaeya announced, raising one hand to stop him. “But I do have requirements.”
Careful about letting his mask slip, Diluc simply sat down, poised as ever. As if he wasn’t on the verge of panic internally. From his own plans. It was as though he’d never envisaged a positive answer from his possibly-soon-to-be-(business)-partner. Could it be considered a red flag that someone would accept to wave his own red flag? “Which are? I’m open to a salary negotiation if you’re not satisfied with the pay.”
Kaeya opened his mouth. “I didn’t mean that, but if you insist…”
“What is it, then?”
A minute passed—during which Kaeya frowned, pursed his lips, and finally sighed in resignation. He nodded, then, as if to give himself courage. “I’ll need an exhaustive list of what I should know about you and your circle, and I will not be held liable to damages caused by any omission on your end. I will also set boundaries—no texts and calls after midnight on rest days unless it’s urgent. Lastly,” and at that, his eye did not flinch, “you’re not meeting my mom.”
Diluc lightly scoffed. “I wasn’t planning to.” He clicked his pen, a stern reminder that this was, actually, a contract, and they were, actually, about to do something incredibly stupid. “Is that all? I’ll arrange for accommodations as soon as possible, and your terms will be reflected in your contract.”
Kaeya’s gaze darted back to the contract. Diluc had stopped counting how many times it had been. He’d have offered to pinch him if he wasn’t himself convinced he was in a crazy dream.
Then, he apposed his signature next to Diluc’s.
“When do we start?” he asked, returning the pen to Diluc.
They shared one last glance, a final cue before diving into madness.
“Right now.”
Coexistence rules for a successful partnership
a rulebook by Diluc Ragnvindr (referred to as ‘employer’) and Kaeya Alberich (referred to as ‘contractor’):
- Throughout the entire partnership, both parties agree to performing romantic attachment as is expected of a couple during public events and outings. This includes but is not limited to:
- Invitations from the target of said operation
- Instances of Displayed Affection in Territories Extra-muroS (a.k.a. DATES)
- Rehearsals, as both parties will agree upon
- In private, boundaries must be respected to ensure both parties can maintain an adequate work/life balance. As such:
- Texting and calling after midnight (12 A.M. Mondstadt North Time) is strictly forbidden
- Meetings with family members are not to be expected—in particular, between the employer and the contractor’s parental figure
- Physical contact must be kept to a minimum, and displays of affection must be limited to situations listed in Paragraph 1. Examples of possible physical contact include:
- Occasional hugs and their ramified versions (an arm around the shoulders, for instance)
- Hand-holding
- Payments must be done biweekly, and the contractor’s business trips and expenses must be covered by the employer.
- The existence of this contract must be kept a secret by the contractor.
- Any and all situations not previously listed must be discussed by both parties until they reach an agreement.
Lastly, any breach in these rules leaves the employer and/or contractor entitled to a contract termination, the terms of which will be determined amicably.
“There’s no way this is just your living room,” Kaeya said, emphasizing his words as if to make a point of how spoiled Diluc was. To be fair, he was right. “That’s a whole apartment—and not a small one.”
A day had passed since they had signed the contract. A day of pondering that hadn’t resulted in many intelligent thoughts, if the intact state of their contract was anything to go by.
Today was their first assignment.
“That’s not my living room. That’s a lounge area I never use.”
“A ‘lounge area’ with a couch, a TV, and a coffee table—how is that called again?”
Diluc scoffed. “I’m aware that this is, by every standard except mine, a living room. But I do not live in it, and so, it is not.”
“Okay, no big deal,” Kaeya said with a chuckle. “Sure is humbling to know a square meter of a lounge area you never use is worth more than my rent.”
Choosing to ignore that comment, Diluc gestured toward the couch, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as Kaeya glared at it. “What is it?”
“I should have added a clause in your contract that I’m not responsible for damages on your property.”
“Unless you’re made of acid, I think the couch will live.”
With a small shrug, Kaeya dropped on the couch, crossing his legs elegantly. “So, why did you bring me here?”
Diluc crossed his arms. “First, to be seen with you entering my house. Second, to study.”
“Uh-huh… Are you implying there are people watching your doorstep?”
“That’s exactly what I’m implying.” He checked his phone. “Right now, whoever saw us is probably speculating about who you are to me. Word will spread, and by tomorrow, my ex’s whole circle will know I went home with a handsome man dressed to kill in tow.” He exhaled. God, it was exhausting just to think about it. As for Kaeya, he seemed to appreciate the note on his fashion prowesses. “I know you’ve already signed the contract, but this is your chance to bail if you think you can’t handle it. Think about it; I won’t give you another chance.”
Kaeya’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “Part of me looks forward to the chaos.”
“For our sake, I hope it won’t come to that,” Diluc mumbled, readjusting his collar. Sometimes, it felt too tight around his neck, other times too loose. At this moment, it was both at once. Being alone with a stranger in his house was nerve-racking enough, on top of that, he could anticipate a new episode of ‘everything scratches and my clothes are trying to kill me’ unfurling. How long would it be until he’d wrestle the urge to claw at his body for relief? “Anyway. I didn’t only bring you here to kick the rumor mill into motion. My neighbors will be hard at work spinning their own tale, and so should we. We have plenty to cover.”
“What kind of work are we talking about?” Kaeya asked, and again, this unnerving spark was back in his eye. “Are we gonna practice holding hands?”
Suddenly self-conscious, Diluc clenched his fists. “Not yet. First, we…” He swallowed, only then realizing that ‘yet’ implied it would happen eventually. His gaze darted to Kaeya’s hands. They were bigger than his and impossibly graceful—especially given his line of work. He looked away. “First, we get to know each other.”
“That, I can do,” Kaeya said as he leaned back, his joined hands resting on his knee, as if on display. As if he were aware Diluc had been staring. “You gotta know who you’re dating, hm?”
Swallowing, Diluc avoided his piercing gaze. If Kaeya was in any way uncomfortable at the prospect of their romantic simulation, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked so relaxed, any unsuspecting soul would assume this apartment belonged to him, not Diluc—who had the unprecedented ability to look out of place in his own home.
He threw a curious look at his new business partner, as though his way out of alienation was in a stranger’s face, but there was no more to find in his cryptic smile now than there had been a minute ago. Sometimes, he wished humans came with formulas. Maybe then, he’d be able to tell if Kaeya was mocking him or not.
“That’s the goal, yeah,” Diluc replied quietly. Already, he’d lost steam, and he had no one to blame but himself. His harshest critic was inward. So was his worst bully.
“Alright. Let’s talk, then.”
“Talk?” Diluc repeated, frowning. “No need. I’ve prepared a slideshow.”
Kaeya blinked. “A slideshow?”
“Yes, a slideshow. A PowerPoint, if you will.”
“I know what a slideshow is, thank you.”
“Then we’re all set, aren’t we?”
Kaeya made a face. He stared at the TV screen, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the couch. On the table, even the water carafe seemed to sweat. “Okay, I’ll watch your slideshow. But I still think we need to chat,” he finally piped up. “If you want the act to be believable, you’ll need to treat me like your actual partner.”
“Considering my last relationship, I doubt that’s a good example.”
“Nah—forget that guy. Imagine you’re with someone worth keeping. Someone interesting, who treats you well and is equally invested in the relationship.”
“Someone whose mom I’d meet,” Diluc deadpanned, and a part of him fluttered in delight as Kaeya smiled. This could have been an inside joke if they were friends. “Implying you’d be that person.”
“Precisely. It needs to be natural. When you call me ‘baby’, it needs to sound like this is how you talk to me when there’s nobody around.”
“Baby,” Diluc repeated, dissecting the word as if to extract its meaning. He’d never called Kieran ‘baby’. Come to think of it, he’d never called him anything. “So… would you like to be called ‘baby’?”
Kaeya shrugged. “My soulmate could call me anything and I’d be into it.”
“I’m not your soulmate. I’m your business partner.”
“Try me, then. Shoot your best shot.”
Heat flared in Diluc’s face. “H-honey?” he mumbled, and he found, that day, that honey could taste quite bitter in his mouth.
Kaeya, however, answered with a laugh. Which wasn’t all that flattering, but at least he wasn’t awkward. “Yes, honey? Anything I can do for you, my love? Come on baby, talk to me.”
The words landed true—a bull’s eye into Diluc’s… what, exactly? His ego? His common sense? That ship had long since sailed, and he was supposed to be its captain, yet his face overheated from a few pet names like he was a snowman trapped in a sauna. He breathed out, shifting from one foot to the other. “Okay, I got this. Um…” His lips wobbled. He looked away. “Baby..?” At Kaeya’s silence, he risked a glance toward him and found him completely frozen. “Was it that bad?”
“No, no. Not at all.” Kaeya crossed his arms, examining him with a strange light in his eye. Why couldn’t he be transparent like everyone else? Diluc used to think he had people figured out—after years struggling to read their unsaid cues, he’d realized they were all the same—but Kaeya made his translator go awry. “It’s uncharacteristic of you to use pet names, right?”
Timidly, Diluc nodded. “I’ve never used them before. Maybe I should stick to your name…”
“No! That was great, actually. That cute little pout, that shy yet eager voice… It’s like a part of you is reluctant, but your heart made its choice in spite of it. Do that again?”
Diluc bit his lips. His brain was blocking out every accidental compliment—because of course Kaeya didn’t really mean them. “Baby?”
Kaeya clapped his hands together. “That’s it! That’s the one. You say that like you just did—staring at me through your eyelashes—and he’ll have no choice but to believe I melted for you.”
“There’s no way that will work.”
“It’s the only way it’ll work,” Kaeya argued. “Trust me. Your ex might be a case, he’d still be suspicious if you changed overnight. Pet names aren’t your forte, so there’s no need to learn how to make them sound like they are. Instead, you gotta show that I’m the first and only one in your life with pet name privilege—nothing hurts an ex more than treating your new partner like they wish they’d been.”
“What about sounding natural, though?”
“That’s what I meant. Your job isn’t to act like the average romantic partner. It’s to act like you would as a partner—given that you actually like the person you’re dating. In this situation, that’s what you’ll have to simulate—attachment to me, history, chemistry. The rest should stay in character.”
Diluc nodded, writing down everything Kaeya said on his notepad. Where did he find it? He himself wasn’t sure. He seemed to always have a notepad on him. “Got it. That sounds reasonable.” He frowned then as he punctuated the last sentence, the tip of his pen pressing too long on the dot. “You know an awful lot about faking romantic feelings.”
“I’m just a good actor.” His lips curled into a smile. “Honey.”
Diluc’s pen slid, leaving an erratic black line on the sheet. He closed it. “Anyway.”
“Anyway who?”
Diluc huffed. “Baby,” he tried, and once again, his cheeks warmed in sheer embarrassment. “So?”
“Good. Great, even.”
He nodded. “Can we talk about the PowerPoint now?”
Kaeya motioned toward the TV in invitation. “Impress me, love.”
“You don’t have to use pet names when we’re alone,” Diluc argued, fighting his own mouth to not stammer. It was bad enough that this job was insane, Kaeya just so happened to be painfully his type —apparently; he wasn’t sure he had one before him. Of all people, he couldn’t keep a straight face around him.
“I’m just practicing. What’s the point if your ex doesn’t believe I’d steal the moon for you?”
“Chances are he wouldn’t believe you even if you were genuine.” He switched on the TV, setting up the connection cast with his laptop. “Kieran thinks I am incapable of loving anyone. If it were true, I wouldn’t take it to heart.”
“But it’s not,” Kaeya finished for him.
Diluc pursed his lips. Admitting to a stranger that he was prone to romantic yearning wasn’t exactly comfortable. Even—or especially—if that stranger called him pet names for a living. “It’s not,” he agreed.
As if sensing that Diluc wouldn’t elaborate, Kaeya didn’t press him. Instead, he turned to the TV, taking a sip of water while Diluc launched his magnum opus—a PowerPoint about his own life.
“Are you ready?” he asked—‘to take more emotional damage’ was what he didn’t.
Kaeya simply nodded. “Thrilled to learn everything about my beloved.”
Ugh. Diluc couldn’t help but roll his eyes. And judging from Kaeya’s snicker, that was on purpose.
“So. I was born in Mondstadt on April 30th, twenty-eight years ago, to Crepus Ragnvindr and Selene Ragnvindr,” Diluc started, listing his credentials like they were his pedigree. In a way, they were; from his youngest age, he’d always been proud to be the son of a man as resourceful and kind as his father. “My mother passed away when I was too young to recall, and my father, well… I assume you know who he is.”
Kaeya hummed. “Wine tycoon, beloved benefactor of Mondstadt, and witty for days. Who doesn’t know Crepus Ragnvindr?”
“Precisely.” He bit his lower lip, thinking of when he’d have to tell the truth to his father. They were close, but Diluc had never mentioned how truly awful of a boyfriend Kieran had been. The last thing he wanted was to break his father’s heart, so he’d pretended they’d mutually agreed to go their separate ways—as opposed to Kieran cheating on Diluc with a woman who didn’t know better. An intern, too, the easiest prey for a seasoned businessman like Kieran.
Every now and then, Diluc fantasized about telling her everything—arguably the moral thing to do when she was boarding the romantic equivalent of the Titanic with a certified asshole—but his ego got in the way. If everyone knew how truly unwanted he’d been—enough to be cheated on—what would they think? That he deserved it?
There was no shortage of gossip flying around the water fountain, the coffee machine, or the break lounge. No one was spared. Too often, he’d overheard sly comments from coworkers judging whoever was next on the chopping block as if they were in the room when the cheating happened. ‘She let herself go, of course he’d go look elsewhere!’ and similar delicacies were so often on the menu, a part of Diluc could easily imagine the same happening to him.
Most people already called him weird behind his back. Strange, standoffish, blunt… Sometimes, they forgot he occupied the same space as them. The walls weren’t that thick.
He had a heart, too.
“I got my PhD in advanced mathematics two years ago, along with a Masters degree in finances three years prior to that,” Diluc continued, burying those thoughts—and hoping Kaeya wouldn’t notice how anxious he was.
“Hot.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
He cleared his throat. “Anyway, my favorite teacher was Doctor Lisa Minci—she taught Algebra and Calculus. I never told Kieran, but when I graduated, I dedicated my speech to her. Of course, I was Valedictorian.”
“Of course.” Kaeya rubbed his chin. “You say on your slide that you joined your father’s company before your thesis. Did he sponsor it?”
“He did. My topic was actually about developing mathematical models to predict financial growth and market trends—using the winery as the test subject, hence the sponsorship.”
“I see. So not quite a nepo baby.”
“Oh, I am good at my job—and an asset in my father’s team—but I was still very much propelled by his relentless support. All the opportunities I got were thanks to him—what I did with them was my own fight, but being given the chance is already an invaluable privilege.”
“You’re quite down-to-earth.”
“If you say so.” He pressed on his remote to move to the next slide, biting back a smile as Kaeya aww-ed loudly. “Yeah. That’s me as a baby. It would have quite an impact if you mentioned that picture in front of Kieran, considering I never showed it to him. My dad liked to put me in animal onesies. Frogs and kittens were his favorite. I was a bunny once but I ate the ears until they crumpled.”
“There’s no way this is actually you,” Kaeya said, pointing an accusatory finger toward the screen. “How does a toddler this bubbly become an adult this grumpy? What happened?”
Diluc stared at the chubby-cheeked baby as if it were a curious specimen. Did he still have those dimples? He himself wasn’t sure. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d smiled in the mirror—and not to practice talking to one, back when he still bothered. “People happened,” he explained calmly. He clicked on the remote control. Another picture of his family throned there, on the TV, like a piece of his heart exposed to a complete stranger. There, the day his father had taken him to the beach. He was five years old, and Crepus had spent the whole afternoon building sand castles with him.
What would he think if he knew Diluc was unearthing the most private parts of him for such a nefarious purpose?
“Did you get bullied?” Kaeya asked, though his eye was stuck on the picture, as if piecing it apart. Good; it was all ammunition.
“I do trigonometry for fun. What do you think?”
Kaeya didn’t answer. He relaxed against the backrest, narrowing his eye. “Does Kieran know?”
“He never asked.” He showed the next slide—a whole section dedicated to Spiderman, his favorite hero as a child. “As far as he’s concerned, I ‘snapped’ and went insane six months into dating him. That was… two years ago.”
Kaeya nodded. He was also taking notes, mouthing candy brand names while studying a Halloween picture. In it, six-year-old Diluc throned in a Spidersuit with his loot of the night—after giving all the licorice and mint candies to his dad. “And so? Did you really ‘snap’ as he said?”
“This isn’t relevant to your job.”
“It is my job,” Kaeya argued. He twirled the pen through his fingers, his sharp gaze burrowing through Diluc’s. “You want me to best your ex? Give me the tools I need to bury him.”
Diluc shifted his weight from one leg to the other, crossing his arms as if to shield himself. “In that case, you’ll have to answer personal questions too.”
A small smile bloomed on Kaeya’s lips—equally nostalgic and beautiful. Diluc didn’t know what to do with it. “You said it yourself: trust is a two-way street.”
“So… Where do we start?” Diluc asked, awkwardly lowering himself on the seat next to Kaeya’s. Though he did feel better—he’d dressed down to something more comfortable after his former clothes tipped into unbearable territory—he was still not entirely serene. And he only had himself to blame. Being so close to Kaeya, and knowing what they were supposed to simulate for the necessary (to Diluc) evil of humiliating Kieran… It was a lot.
He took a deep breath, hyper-aware of Kaeya’s body nearly touching his. He smelled so nice too—a light and fresh perfume.
Kaeya gestured for Diluc to wait. He was taking notes on their latest slide—a list of Diluc’s favorite mathematicians, with pictures of his themed journaling dedicated to them. Yeah, he was a little obsessed. “How many more of those slides do we have?” he asked, then. When Diluc peered over his shoulder, he was writing down the ten first digits of Pi, as Diluc had included them in a slide. Why? He just thought it would be fun.
“You don’t have to take such thorough notes.”
“It’s what I would do with an actual partner, so.”
“Learning about their interests?”
Kaeya smiled. “I like collecting pieces of the people I love.”
Diluc had a theory that romance and horror were only a soundtrack away from each other, because with a haunting music, that sentence could have taken a different turn. Was that a distraction from acknowledging what was essentially the cutest thing he had ever heard? Oh, absolutely. “There’s a total of a hundred slides,” Diluc finally answered. He nearly laughed at the sidelong glance Kaeya threw his way. “They’re obviously not all about me. I dedicated a whole section to Kieran. Another to my dad.”
“You sure you don’t still like your ex?”
“Absolutely certain. I do feel things for him—repulsion, disgust, disdain—but nothing remotely linked to affection. In fact, I suspect my obsession with his mistreatment has more to do with my own bruised ego.”
“At least you’re self-aware.”
“I’d be lying to myself otherwise.”
Kaeya clicked his pen, at last turning toward Diluc. “What about your dad? Do you plan on telling him about this?”
Diluc pursed his lips. “I’ll have to, eventually.” But it did mean he’d have to tell him Kieran had cheated on him. Knowing Crepus, he would fire him on the spot, and next thing they knew, Kieran would be going around telling everyone Diluc was a bad lay.
Deep down, it didn’t matter. Why should he care about a few strangers believing he was awful in bed? First, they’d be right, and second, it wasn’t like Diluc wanted them in his bed anyway.
But despite it all, Diluc had his pride. He didn’t particularly fancy the idea of attending work with people who knew he preferred doggy style. Not only would they lack context—it was only his ‘favorite’ position because he didn’t want to look at Kieran’s face—but also, it was none of their business.
“Okay, I’ll let you handle that,” Kaeya said, calling him back to reality. “I can’t help but feel bad for him, though. I’d be heartbroken to meet a son-in-law like me only to realize it was all fake.”
Diluc scoffed. “You can dry your tears on your future paycheck.”
Kaeya burst out laughing. “And you say you have no sense of humor.”
For once, Diluc’s smile came easily to him. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he reminded him. “How should we start?”
“Hmm. How about we set up some rules, first?”
“Rules? Like a game?”
“Exactly. Say, for example, we each get three jokers. When a question is off-charts, you use a joker.”
“What happens when you’ve used up all your jokers?” Diluc asked, his interest piqued.
“Then the game stops at the next question you refuse to answer—regardless of how many jokers the other player still has.”
“I see.” Diluc nodded. “I can work with a game.” Pretending this was all a game was better for his nerves anyway. “Shall I start?”
“Go ahead.”
“Okay. So… Why do you wear an eye-patch?” Diluc asked, content to remove his filter.
Kaeya chuckled. “You’re going straight for the juicy bits.”
“I just assume your partner would know. Besides, you have a joker if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Right.” He clicked the pen once, twice. “I lost my eye during a bus crash.” As Diluc tilted his head, he continued. “I used to practice judo. I was quite good, really; I won local awards, got a scholarship to aim higher, and my coach had hopes of sending me to the Games.” He looked away—not out of discomfort, but in reminiscence. “The bus was taking us to the qualifiers. We never got there.” He smiled sadly. “Look at you, unearthing my tragic backstory so soon.”
Diluc glanced at his covered eye. A scar peeked from the eye patch, disappearing into his hairline. It marred his skin with a jagged pattern lighter than his complexion. “Is that why you became a bodyguard?”
“Hey, it’s my turn.”
“I use a joker. So? Is that why?”
Kaeya laughed, leaning back until his head touched the backrest of the couch. Again, that mysterious scent tickled Diluc’s nose—so soft and intriguing, he wanted to lean in and take a deep inhale of it. “Okay, that’s some dedication.” He met his gaze, as unreadable as always. “Yes, it’s why. I used to study literature before the accident, but the recovery left me with no motivation to continue. I couldn’t pursue a career in martial arts either, so I turned to that job instead. It pays better than teaching and hurts less than stepping into a dojo.” He blew air through his nose. “Why am I even telling you this?”
“Because I’m your boyfriend.”
“Right.” His smile was ridiculously pretty. “My turn, now. No joker.” He waited for Diluc’s nod before continuing. “Do you have any sibling?”
“I don’t, but I do have a friend I see like a sister.” He felt lighter as he said her name: “Jean. She’s been my best friend since preschool. If you’d had a little more patience, we could have reached the slides about her.”
“I’d rather hear it from your mouth. Jean,” he said her name as if it were a spell. “I assume she doesn’t know about your stunt either.”
“Clever way to ask questions without asking questions,” Diluc called him out, and he couldn’t help but blush when Kaeya grinned at him. “No, she doesn’t know. She would have talked me out of it.”
“A reasonable endeavor, really,” Kaeya mused.
“I don’t care for reason. I want retribution.”
“Okay, okay.”
Diluc huffed. “It does feel weird to not share something so important with her. I usually tell her everything.”
“You two must be close.”
“That’s an understatement.”
Diluc had been friends with Jean his whole life.
Their first picture together was older than their first memory. In it, a one-month old Jean shared the same cradle with a newborn Diluc, holding hands in their sleep as if they already knew they’d found a sibling in each other. From then on, they would refuse to sit anywhere but next to each other, only went to a birthday party if the other was invited, and every day, after preschool, they’d cry big tears when the moment came to go their separate ways. After all, back then, waiting until the next day to be reunited was quite easily the worst thing their toddler hearts had ever withstood.
To remedy their baby heartbreak, their fathers had eventually devised a system of weekend shifts. On Friday nights, they would organize a sleepover, usually at Diluc’s place since it was bigger (the official excuse) and Jean’s parents were divorcing (the real reason). That was why for most of her toddler years, Jean used to call Crepus ‘daddy’ until she was old enough to understand he wasn’t actually her dad, something her actual father still teased her about.
The main upside to that ritual was that Jean never went through the typical jealousy phase kids experienced when a younger sibling was born. The downside, however, was that her little sister, Barbara, sometimes still resented Diluc for stealing her sister. She didn’t know what Jean looked like when she felt defeated and sad and insecure—everything she wasn’t supposed to be in front of her baby sister—but she did know that Diluc knew.
And he did. He had seen Jean cry a girl who didn’t deserve her until she passed out in his arms, unable to keep awake anymore. Had driven to her place in the middle of the night because she’d called him in tears after dreaming of her. And when she finally met a woman worthy of her, he was the first to meet her (only to find out it was his former math teacher, which he might have freaked out about). Diluc was in every way a brother to her—and in return, she was the first person who made him realize he would rather be her brother than her sister.
Diluc’s lips quirked into a small smile. “She was the first person I came out to—I didn’t even know it was what I was doing. Oh—it brings me to my next point: gender is irrelevant to me. Thought I should mention it.”
“Should I still call you ‘he’? You know, when I brag to everyone about how wonderful my partner is and how much their ex is missing out.”
“Please do—refer to me with masculine terms and brag about how much of a catch I am. Not that I mind if you call me ‘she’, but I do prefer ‘he’. Female terms of endearment are alright with my loved ones—for everyone else, they’re on the high shelves until they can use them appropriately.”
“Got it. That means I can call you ‘princess,’ correct? To be clear, I use that word regardless of gender. The ultimate princess is me anyway.”
Heat rose to Diluc’s cheeks. “If you must,” he begrudgingly agreed—not because he disliked that word, but precisely because he… enjoyed it. However, once he caught up with the game, he crossed his arms, glowering at Kaeya. “That was two questions.”
“Oh, excuse me for caring about your gender identity,” Kaeya teased, and he gestured as if he wanted to nudge Diluc but stopped halfway through. A part of Diluc wondered what it would have felt like if he had gone through with it. “Do bombard me to make up for that.”
Excited, Diluc straightened his back as he sifted through his options. It seemed like Kaeya’s mother was out of bounds, since he’d mentioned she wouldn’t be involved in this scheme—an objectively good decision. “Do you have any ex?”
Kaeya snorted. “That should count for two questions.”
“One per ex,” Diluc feigned to guess—it was initially meant to be a question, but he didn’t want to waste another.
The snort turned into a laugh. “No, thankfully. I only have one proper ex—not counting flings,” Kaeya answered. His voice showed no emotion. “A girl from college. We broke up a while ago. Nobody since.”
“Why did you break up?”
Kaeya twirled his pen around his fingers. “Joker.”
With a small pout, Diluc nodded. “That’s one joker each.”
“And my turn to ask a question.” Once again, he waited for Diluc’s signal, as if he’d already prepared his inquiry. “Who’s your favorite mathematician?”
Diluc’s mouth dropped open. Out of all questions, he didn’t expect that one. “That’s like asking me to choose between my dad and Jean.”
“You must at least have a preference,” Kaeya insisted.
“Hmm… If I really had to pick, I’d choose Ada Lovelace. She invented algorithms.”
“Sick.” Kaeya wrote her name down. “Your turn,” he invited then, though he was still reading her name.
Diluc watched him as he fiddled with the pen. Kaeya’s fingers were long and graceful, his nails immaculate. “What’s something about you that I have to know?” he asked finally, tearing his gaze away from Kaeya’s hand.
“As a partner?”
“Yes. As your lover—on paper.”
“Hmm.” He closed his notebook, bookmarking it with a pen, before turning toward Diluc and leaning on his elbow. In doing so, he’d shifted closer to him, and that soft perfume tickled Diluc’s nose once again. This time, Diluc finally pinpointed notes of green tea. “I’ve read Pride and Prejudice five times,” Kaeya answered. “The first thing I got myself when I made a stable income was a romance book subscription. I collect scented candles, teabag tags, and perfume samples.” He smiled as Diluc took notes. “Whenever my mom visits, I let her pick a candle to light up.”
“That’s quite adorable,” Diluc commented, and he tried to not get swept away by Kaeya’s gaze. A bodyguard and a hopeless romantic? Kieran stood no chance.
“Right?” He nodded at Diluc. “Let’s pretend you come to my place so often you have your own favorite candle too. What would it smell like?”
“I’m not too keen on strong scents,” Diluc admitted. “They can get quite irritating. If I had to pick, I’d say either something soft and discreet—clean linen for example—or sweet—like the scent of cookies in the oven, strawberries... Anything that can trick my brain into thinking of food.”
Once again, Kaeya was taking notes. “Is perfume okay, then? For dates.”
“Dates…” He swallowed. Their contract did mention dates. Being seen in town with Kaeya would work in his advantage to fuel the rumor mill, and it would help them get used to each other and perfect their act. Still, he tried to not think too much about it. “Perfume is okay if it’s not too strong. The one you’re wearing right now is perfect.”
Kaeya arched an eyebrow. “I’m not wearing any.” He brought the lapel of his vest to his nose, taking a whiff. “It might be my deodorant you’re smelling but I use a neutral scent.”
Once again, Diluc swallowed. “Let’s just move on,” he suggested, trying his best to bury this blunder. ‘You smell nice’ might as well be a wedding proposal. “Actually, we should carry on with the PowerPoint. You still have to be acquainted with your archnemesis-in-law.”
If Kaeya noticed he was embarrassed, he said nothing of it.
“By all means, fill me in.”