Work Text:
Saturated sunlight bleeds through the glass window’s murals as the young deacon finishes up cleaning the Church of Favonius. Dahlia sweeps the floor lazily lolling his head from side to side, uninterested as he finishes his rounds. He is on cleaning duty tonight, and he must make sure the church is spotless before Barbara comes back to lock up the church for the day. He absent-mindedly flicks the broom side to side, not prioritizing the church’s cleanliness one bit. He was sure Barbados wouldn’t mind either after all.
All of a sudden, a familiar figure cruised through the double doors and into the church, almost as if he owned the place. His twin-tail braids, jade soaked cape, and emerald beret made it dashingly clear who this was. He strutted in without another thought, all smiles while walking towards the center of the church, where Dahlia was standing.
“Venti? What are you doing here so late?” Dahlia chided. Him and Venti have been the best of friends since he became the Deacon of the Church of Favonius. Their days were filled with songs and pranks on the poor locals, with the occasional drink every other evening. While Venti sang stories of old and days gone by, Dahlia would linger near the church’s windows to listen–all the while neglecting his holy duties. Such a slothful demeanor in this area of work would be considered sacrilege, however Barbados didn’t seem to care. After all, Venti was the Anemo Archon’s human disguise, and he had no problem with Dahlia’s frowned upon work ethic. Venti gives a sly smile before answering.
“Just checking in on my favorite drinking buddy of course!” he coyly remarks, tossing his head to the side in self admiration as he places both hands on his hips.
Dahlia chuckles to himself, aware of Venti’s schemes.
“You just want me to buy you a drink, don’t you?”
He lifts an eyebrow in amusement and cocks his head to the side. Venti’s expression pauses for a moment before he sighs defeatedly, crossing his arms as a twinge of childish guilt flickers in his gaze.
“Seriously, I thought it would work this time…” he trails off to himself in utter disbelief, truly thinking he could end up coaxing Dahlia for a drink at the tavern. Unfortunately for him, Dahlia could see right through his facade. Dahlia gave an exasperated sigh before looking back at Venti. His playfulness made it difficult to say no sometimes.
“I'll tell you what,” Dahlia begins, “If you help me finish cleaning the Church, drinks are on me tonight. How does that sound?”
Normally Venti would be ecstatic at such an offer, however he knew how grueling the task was. The church was not only large, but there were many sections throughout it where you had to take your time cleaning so as to not break any fragile relics. These sections could take up to hours as you tenderly dust at ancient antiques from Monstadt's history. However, Dahlia seemed to be amused by the face Venti was making at the idea. Or maybe, he was simply relieved with the fact that he could dump his workload on to another person as usual. Venti frowned, and then reluctantly agreed. If this meant he could get drinks free of charge, then it was surely worth it..right? Dahlia snickers and hands him a broom, already feeling heavy in his dainty bard hands. This was going to take a while..
They sit exhausted in the pews after a long day of cleaning, their hands red and tender from all the scrubbing and polishing they had been doing. The sun was now even lower in the sky, and orange hues flickered onto their figures as they sat in silence. Dahlia leans his head back, gazing at the window with a glass mosaic of Monstadt's beloved Anemo Archon. Barbatos’ arms were spread out to his sides and his wrists curled upwards towards what appeared to be Celestia, golden rays shooting out of its sides. A robe cascaded down his figure like a water fall, with large dove-like wings ruffling at his sides. He had twin braids as well that faded into aqua, which reminded him of a certain someone sitting next to him. Dahlia shifted towards Venti, and saw that he was also admiring the mosaic of himself.
“The architects did a really good job on this, don't you think?” Venti pampered himself, finally breaking the threaded silence between the two. His most favorite thing in the world (other than drinking, pranks, and playing the lyre) was complimenting himself every chance he had. Dahlia followed his gaze back to the mosaic, now shining even brighter due to the sun's radiance.
Dahlia closed his eyes and sighed.
“As much as I hate to admit it, they worshipped your image very well,” he mused, leaning back on to the pew and resting his head on its wooden frame. “Some may say you look even more handsome there than in real life.”
Dahlia heard a soft laugh, before Venti replied. “You think I'm attractive? What makes you say that all of a sudden?” Dahlia opened his eyes at the remark, seeing Venti’s subtly surprised gaze lingering on him. His gaze flickered between Venti and the mural, comparing the two against each other before giving an answer.
“The mural accentuates your features,” Dahlia observed. “Your skin looks more radiant and your facial features are sharper.” Dahlia looks back at Venti and sees a betrayed look in his eyes.
“So you think the mural looks better than the real me?” He whined, faking a sniffle and bringing a tear to his eye. As overdramatic as he was, Dahlia couldn't help but feel guilty over the comparison he just made.
“Don't get me wrong, you do look fairly attractive in real life too,” he begins, trying to sound as sincere as possible. He sees Venti start to light up as he continues. “Your hair looks soft to the touch, your eyes sparkle, and your voice fits you well. Not to mention your personality, which is the most important part. How could a mural ever compare to you without that? After all, it’s my favorite part about you.”
He looked back to Venti, who now seemed utterly taken aback by the amount of compliments he had just received. Dahlia almost never praises him, opting to tease him relentlessly instead. Venti had known Dahlia for years, yet had never seen such a genuine and honest side of him until now. He observed Dahlia, whose hair swayed gently in the breeze he commanded. It was brighter, and looked much more silky. The sun's hues complimented his features well, the rays curving around his face like a soft blanket of light. Dahlia stared back at Venti, unsure of what to say next. He simply kept taking in the beauty of his eyes, unable to look away. They were a deep aqua green, reminding him of never-ending clear skies much in relation to his ideals. His braids faded from the blackest ore to a similar, azure radiance. Suddenly he looked back up, and realized Venti's gaze was on him too. It was almost hypnotic as they stared at each other, almost wanting. They were starved for what the other thought about them, yet didn't know how to put it into words themselves. Even after knowing each other for so long, their words seemingly fell short at this exact moment. Dahlia was almost entranced, when he suddenly noticed Venti subtly closing the gap between them. He leaned his face in, hesitating for a moment against Dahlia's warm breath, before slightly tilting his head to the side and timidly pressing his lips against his.
Dahlia's eyes widened, his heart racing. He thought he knew Venti well, but he certainly never expected this. And yet, he found himself wanting it. Wanting more.
His eyes fluttered shut as he reciprocated the kiss, pushing his lips back against his. He never knew that Venti’s lips, the same ones that carried his songs–his most refined instrument, were so tender and warm to the touch. Venti's hand cupped the side of Dahlia's face gently, and he carefully planted another on his waist. Dahlia shuddered and let out a shameful breath, before resting his flushed hands on Venti's shoulders, scrunching up his cape in pleasure as he tasted every bit of him. He drank selfishly from his lips, stained with the faint flavor of Dandelion Wine. Soft unintelligible murmurs and sounds escaped from their starved throats, however the sounds were quickly insulated when their lips locked against each other once more. Venti leaned in more, kissing him hungrily. It was almost as if he'd starved all his life, and he now had the opportunity to feast to his heart's content. His knuckles tugged at Dahlia's blouse, almost as if he yearned for the warmth underneath. Dahlia breathed heavily, shivering from the wave of lust that had suddenly overcome him.
Venti was shivering too, unable to contain his desires. He would kiss Dahlia until his tongue was stained with the taste of his lips. Until Dahlia's flavor was etched into his mouth and circulated his bloodstream. Heat rose within both of them as they pulled each other closer, indulging in each other and savoring every touch. It was harsher and more impatient now, as their breaths became more frequent and heavy. They both felt fulfillment and delight, but also impatience and restlessness. They needed more from each other, and they both had so much to offer. They would carve the feeling of the other's body on theirs, and learn every pitch the other could breathe in. They would trace the other's skin thoroughly, making sure nothing was untouched. And when their curiosity was satisfied and their appetites were satiated, they would–
“Dahlia?”
Dahlia and Venti instantly part from each other, startled by the interruption of a third voice. They were both breathing heavily as they turned to face the deaconess of the church, Barbara. She stood there in shock before flinching and quickly looking away, her face red and swimming with panic. In her hands, a set of keys were suspended. Barbara had come to finally lock up the church for the night, and Dahlia hadn't even noticed. He quickly stood up, his face flushing with embarrassment. What would he say? She clearly caught both of them making out. She also took her sacred duties for Lord Barbatos very seriously, so her catching them getting close in a church meant for worshipping him definitely wasn't going to leave her very pleased.
“S-sorry Barbara,” he stammers, looking away. They were each staring off in opposite directions, fearful of meeting the others' judging gaze. “We'll leave now.”
He turned swiftly to Venti, ushering him up. Venti was still seated in shock at the events that had just taken place, his face just as red and flushed. He wasn't sure if it was due to being caught, or for initiating the whole ordeal. Venti’s clothes seemed disheveled and wrinkled where Dahlia had previously grasped them, and Dahlia had a feeling he was also in a similar state. Dahlia also observed that Venti’s cape was undone and crumpled on the floor, not to mention how Dahlia felt as though his deacon’s uniform was looser..
They frantically apologize to Barbara once more, who still couldn't even turn her head remotely near where they were standing. Dahlia wasn't sure if she would fare better tomorrow, but he would just have to wait and find out. On the way out, the two stood a couple feet apart from one another, stars now peeking out overhead of Teyvat. They trudged in silence, not daring to utter a word or even look at the other. They had both completely forgotten about their original drinking plans for the night, having their minds overtaken by the emotional rollercoaster they had just experienced. It wasn't just Barbara–how would they face each other in the morning? They drowned themselves with their own thoughts, with one question eating away at their minds that they didn't dare to ask the other. At least, not yet.
“So, what are we now?”