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Xiao may have been contract bound to Morax to patrol the outskirts of Liyue for danger, but he was also duty bound to Barbatos to pick him up after his drunken misadventures. And, well, Xiao was also pretty sure that Morax wouldn’t have minded him taking a small detour to pick his boyfriend up from Wanmin – after all, Venti so rarely visited the city of Liyue; someone had to be there to take care of him if he got lost.
The Adeptus looked at the rising moon in the sky, indicating how late at night it was, and, with a heavy sigh, teleported to Liyue Harbor. The streets of the Harbor were still buzzing despite the late hour. Lanterns swung gently in the breeze, and the smell of grilled fish and osmanthus wine drifted through the air. Xiao disregarded all these things he would normally pause to admire, slipping past the crowds like a shadow. He could already hear the bard’s laughter echoing down the street as he approached the restaurant – that telltale trill of amusement that somehow managed to sound both divine and absolutely drunk. When he entered Wanmin, he saw Chef Mao look at him knowingly, then glance at the table on the far end of the restaurant.
He found Venti absolutely wasted, one hand on the bottle of wine he was drinking from and his head resting on the table. Irritated at the urge to coo at the messy-haired, flushed red Archon, he flagged down a waiter with one hand and slammed down a pouch of Mora on the table with another. Xiao’s hand found Venti’s elbow, and he gently pulled him so that Venti’s arm was around his shoulders, looking at the drunk bard’s face for any signs of discomfort.
“Xiao,” he drawled out, leaning heavily onto the Adeptus’ shoulder. “You’re here!”
Xiao grumbled a diminutive response under his breath, staggering under the god’s weight. From the corner of his eye, he saw Venti pouting at him. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Xiao,” Venti slurred. “Did I break your serious Adeptus mood?”
“You’re heavy.” Xiao muttered, steadying the two of them. “And drunk.”
Venti giggled into Xiao’s ear. The latter inhaled deeply, picturing Wangshu Inn in his mind’s eye. Sure enough, when he opened his eyes again, he was in his familiar room, and Venti was stumbling towards the window, his lyre at hand. He clumsily attempted to play a few notes, then dissolved into laughter, melody forgotten mid-bar. Xiao pretended to frown, though the corners of his lips betrayed him.
For a while, Xiao simply watched him. The way Venti’s fingers hovered clumsily over the strings, the way laughter bubbled from his throat like wind chimes in a storm – everything about him felt unbearably alive.
“The stars are so pretty tonight, aren’t they, Xiao?” Venti turned to look at him between giggles, his braids moving with the wind. Xiao nodded, though all he could think in his head was how Venti was infinitely prettier, and how he’d stare at Venti for eternity if he could, completely satiated by just watching the bard go about his daily routine. Because Venti looked so beautiful, illuminated in the moonlight. Venti always looked so absolutely gorgeous that any words of description that came out of Xiao’s inexperienced mouth would not be enough to capture his elegance. He did not voice these thoughts, however, but was sure, with how his lips pulled into a cheeky smile, that Venti knew what he was thinking. He brought up a glass of water to Venti, who shook his head, smiling, looking at him with those bright eyes, bringing a hand up to his cheek.
“Just let it last a little while longer, my little bird.”
And so Xiao did, placing the glass on his nightstand, leaning into Venti’s touch with his eyes closed. They both relished in the silence, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain from the distant mountains. Venti’s breathing had steadied, his eyes half-lidded as he hummed a tune Xiao didn’t recognize. It was gentle, almost fragile, like a song meant only for them.
For a moment, Xiao let himself believe that this was all there was – the wind, the stars, and the warmth of the god beside him. For a moment, he couldn’t help but entertain the thought that maybe this was his true freedom. No contracts. No karmic debt. Just peace.
But peace, he knew, was never built to last.
“Do you ever think about how you will outlive me?”
When he opened his eyes, he saw Venti was no longer looking at him, but at the night sky again. There was something sorrowful about his expression that hurt Xiao’s heart to see. “There is still a long time until that day comes. But, to answer your question, yes, I do.”
“What will happen to you, after?”
Venti smiled. “I will grieve and mourn and write songs for my Qingxin until we meet again. But, my Liebling, we have so many tomorrows in between today and that day. There is no fruition in worrying about it now.”
Words choked his throat, so many questions of “how do you know?” and “when will we meet?” and “why must I leave you behind as well?” clawing at each other for a chance to come out first. He swallowed them down, opting to wordlessly pull Venti onto the bed, and then mumble: “You reek of alcohol.”
The bard giggled. “Let me change my clothes, then.”
Xiao hummed in mock contemplation, then answered with a finality to his tone, “No.”
“Why not, my silly little Adeptus?”
“You’ve been gone touring the city since this morning. I’ve missed you.” Xiao all but pouted, making Venti laugh even harder. “Quiet, bard, or you’ll awaken the other customers at the Inn.” But Xiao had a small smile on his face, too, because Venti, the prettiest bard of Teyvat, Barbatos, the God of Freedom, was looking at him with reverence in his eyes. Something about being curled up like this with the Archon felt so domestic that it made him feel like his heart was about to burst with joy, and a small selfish part of him couldn’t help but hope that Venti felt the same when he spent time with him.
Xiao pulled him closer to his chest, running a hand through his dark hair, and for a moment, he wished they could last like this forever.
When Xiao woke, the bed beside him was empty. A single Cecilia lay on the pillow, Venti’s wordless goodbye. He sighed, pressing it to his lips, and let the morning wind carry the scent of wine away.