Chapter Text
Oliver kept stealing glances at Venti.
The bard wore that insufferable smug expression, lounging in the hot spring water like he hadn't just said something that nearly made Oliver's entire face combust.
This bastard-bard... Oliver thought. Though, it could be worse. At least Venti wasn't cruel about it. Oliver had a feeling that cruelty wasn't something new to him. People being unkind. He couldn't grab onto it properly, not with the memory loss muddling everything in his mind, but the feeling was there, hovering. Something about the things he liked — certain things, private things — that he knows he likes... Venti somewhat found out about onejust now. He was pretty sure other people would wrinkle their noses at it. His thoughts kept spinning in slow, uncertain circles. Had something happened, once? To him? For him to feel this way?
"You okay?"
Venti's voice, soft and close. Oliver looked over. The smugness had gone. There was something about this bard that Oliver kept noticing — how easily he shifted. He was very playful, and such a teaser, but when it came time to be quiet, he was quiet. He didn't push anything.
Right now, he sounded concerned.
Oliver met his eyes. "Yeah." He nodded. "Just... still thinking."
Venti lifted an arm out of the water, droplets running down his wrist, and rested it on Oliver's shoulder. "Hey. What did I tell you? Don't overthink it. Just be here." He gestured around with his free hand. "Just relax! Come on, you're in a hot spring!"
Oliver smiled softly, and nodded. Yeah, he was in a hot spring. A calm and relaxing mineral bath.
Venti kept his arm there. After a moment, it slipped around Oliver's back, pulling him in just slightly.
Oliver felt the shyness creep up his neck, but he didn't pull away. He melted in, just a little. Venti was still a stranger, technically — and yet there was something that felt like safety in being near him. Was it because Venti revealed himself to be a god? Can't go wrong with a god, right? Or maybe it was just that Venti has a way at being most relentless tease in the universe, and somehow that was doing things to Oliver's chest, making him swoon.
He closed his eyes. Let the heat soak through his muscles. Let himself just... exist, warm and held, for a moment.
It couldn't last forever, of course. The sound of a splash nearby broke the stillness — then another. More people filtering in. Venti did say in a couple more hours people were going to show up.
Oliver opened his eyes.
Venti chuckled. "You wanna head back now-," He nudged Oliver's shoulder. "Or do you wanna stay a bit longer? Your call,"
"Yeah." Oliver nodded, and started to rise, the warm water running off him. "I think I'm ready."
He'd barely gotten to his feet when his stomach let out a loud, dramatic growl. He blinked down at it, then laughed and pressed a hand over it. "Also, I guess I'm getting kinda hungry-,"
Venti stood too, water rushing off him. "You mortals," he said, quiet and playful. "Always needing—" Then his own stomach growled. Loudly. Venti froze, looked down, and went a little pink. "Oh. Haha." He rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I guess even people like me can get hungry too. Probably didn't help that the apple salad yesterday was the only thing I've eaten this week."
Oliver blinked at him as they climbed out. "Wait. Seriously? You just... don't eat?" He climbed out, catching up to Venti.
"Shh~," Venti giggled, eyes darting to the people around the springs. "Not the conversation to have out in the open~."
"Oh — right—" Oliver stepped closer, lowering his voice.
Which meant he was now very close to Venti, who was still shirtless, skin still gleaming faintly from the mineral water in the morning light. Oliver made a very dedicated effort to look only at Venti's face. His very, very pretty face. This was also a problem. Fuck he was beautiful.
"Come on—" Venti grabbed his hand and towed him behind a large rock formation beside the springs, tucking them both out of sight.
"I can't put my clothes on back out out there-," Venti said— then snapped his fingers. A gust of wind curled around him, and his clothes seemed to fly in from nowhere, settling neatly onto him. He smoothed his vest and beamed. "There we go~." He tilted his head at Oliver. "You planning to get dressed, or just stare at me all morning~?"
Oliver made a noise that was not quite a word. He turned around. "Where — where are my clothes?"
"I've got them, silly."
He turned back. Venti held them out with an entirely too pleased expression.
Oliver snatched them and pulled his shirt on. "So — you actually don't eat?"
Venti shrugged, leaning against the rock. "I do, now. Before I had this body — no. I wasn't... I was never this, not my whole existence." Something flickered across his face.
Oliver paused with his pants halfway up, watching him. "Really?"
"Yeah." Venti's voice was lighter than it should have been, like he was choosing the tone carefully. "Not many people know that about me... in this way. I'm not entirely sure why I'm telling you. Guess I trust you, haha."
Something warm settled in Oliver's chest. "Oh..." He finished pulling his pants on.
"I was a Wisp," Venti said. "I won't get into the whole story — it's too long and too much. But the short version is I had no human body. No need to eat, no need for any of it. This body... it was... it... uh... " His voice caught, just slightly. Oliver heard it. He felt something in him pull toward Venti, wanting to smooth him somehow. "Anyway. Point is — Wisp. Then, this." Venti gestured at himself. "A kind of... hybrid, I suppose. God mixed with human. So I can eat, I just don't need to as often. A few weeks without meals and I'm fine."
Oliver thought for a moment as he straightened his clothes. "Is that why Diluc said you can drink ten wines without blinking? I guess your... body can process all of it because your godly body can withstand it."
Venti brightened. "Exactly! My body handles it differently. Though, I can get drunk, mind you. Just takes about twenty bottles."
Oliver laughed. "I think I'm a lightweight."
"Yeah? Wait—" Venti tilted his head. "Is that something you remember?"
Oliver paused. "I... don't know. Maybe?"
"We need to find something that can truly jog your memory." Venti clapped his hands together. "But first — breakfast. Come here—" He grabbed Oliver's shoulder before Oliver could even process the words.
"Huh — wait, don't—" "H-Hey wai—"
The world lurched. Wind. Then suddenly they were standing outside Mondstadt's main gate but off to the side. The stone walls rising up beside them, the two gate guards just barely out of eyeline.
"EAAH—" Oliver staggered, grabbing for balance. He looked around wildly, heart pounding. "You have got to stop doing that!" He hissed.
"It's faster than walking for hours!" Venti argued cheerfully, already heading for the gate. "All of Teyvat could use Fontaine's water-bus system, if you ask me. Though, I'd want to keep Mondstadt old and timeless. It doesn't need all of that new-fangled nonsense-,"
Oliver stared at the back of his head. "You sound like someone's grandfather complaining about technology."
Venti didn't answer. Just giggled cutely.
They looped around behind the guards and slipped in through the gate. The guard on the right squinted at Venti. "Where did you come from?"
Oliver offered a tiny, sheepish smile as he followed. "H-Hi." and then he walked in.
The guard watched them go, then looked across at his partner a the other rend of the gate.
"Bard's got a boyfriend, finally," the other one said.
They shrugged at each other.
Oliver could see Venti was already at the stand. "Come on!" Venti called him over. "Sara still has her breakfast items on the menu," Oliver waved through the streets, trying to get around the crowd of people. Eventually, he made his way to the outdoor food stall.
"You want pancakes? Sara makes all her food good, but the locals say that's one of the best breakfast options in Teyvat," Venti smiled, as he handed Oliver the menu.
Oliver stared down at the option Venti was pointing at. "Woah... that does look good. Yeah, I guess I'll get that,"
Venti nodded with satisfaction, and when it was their turn, stepped up to the counter. "Morning, Sara! Can Mondstadt's most beloved bard get a pancake order for his cute little friend here~?" He reached over and ruffled Oliver's hair.
Oliver blushed a lot, and out of shyness, he shoved Venti's hands away, then turned around and folded his arms with a pout. Venti giggled at it, of course.
Sara rolled her eyes playfully. "You know, you really need to start paying me..."
"Me? Pay? I'm the finest bard in Mondstadt, Sara. That's payment enough." He grinned. "And come on, you met Oliver yesterday! He was absolutely devoted to your Sticky Honey Roast!"
Sara's expression softened. "Alright, alright." She looked to Oliver — who was still aggressively pouting, facing away. "Lighter-Than-Air pancakes for you?"
Venti prodded him gently. "Sara's talking to you, dork~."
"Wh— I—" Oliver spun back around. "Oh! Yes! The pancakes — the pin — I mean—" His brain and his mouth had a small, catastrophic disagreement. "The pincakes—"
Venti's composure collapsed entirely. "BAHAHAHA — PINCAKES?!" He doubled forward, grabbing the counter for support. "Oliver — are you alright — Yeah, Sara, you got any pins and needles back there to blend into the batter? PiffFTTT~!" He dissolved into helpless laughter.
"Venti, stop—" Oliver buried his face in both hands.
Sara just smiled quietly at the pair of them and turned back to the kitchen. "Okay one pancake order for your friend. And, I reckon you want the apple salad?" She asked Venti.
Venti was still giggling at Oliver. "Huh? Oh, right. You bet!" He smiled. He stood back up, and gently punched Oliver on his arm. "Haha come on, let's sit at the table,"
They sat at the table. Actually, it was even the same one they sat in yesterday. Venti was still giggling even once he sat down.
Oliver couldn't say he was tired of hearing Venti's little giggles and laughing. It was music to his ears, he sounded adorable. But his embarrassed state and shyness was making him blurt out things he didn't truly mean. "Oh my god, can you shut up, you cup size!"
Venti stopped. Stared. "Cup size?!" He promptly burst out laughing again. "What?! What kind of insult is—"
"Ugh! It's what they call the size of a cup in a café!"
"I have never heard of that!" Venti laughed. "I think I would have been aware if the size of a cup was named after me!" He giggled.
"It's—" Oliver stopped. He blinked. Something had snagged at the back of his mind. "I could've sworn I knew that. Like — it's there, almost. Something about a café, something I knew—"
Venti stopped laughing when he saw that Oliver was trying to remember. "Okay, I know I said you should push anything, but you remembering a café is a good start! You actually remembered something!"
"Just barely," Oliver said, deflating a little. "It's like reaching for something and your hand goes through it."
"Better than nothing!" Venti beamed. "One step closer to getting your memories back!"
Their food arrived. Venti's apple salad again. And Oliver's pancakes.
Oliver looked at the plate and forgot, briefly, everything else. Four pancakes, stacked with whipped cream between each layer, cream and chocolate drizzle on top, fresh fruit, a single piece of chocolate, what might have been mint leaves, and a small decorative rose tucked neatly at the base. It looked exactly like the picture on the menu. Oliver stared at it.
"Does Sara just — use magic when she cooks, or—" Oliver said as he took his fork and knife up, his eyes not once leaving his plate.
Venti grinned. "Pretty sure she doesn't. Though magic's not exactly rare around here." He picked up his fork. "Seems like it is for you, since you're gawking at everything. Unless that's just because you lack memories,"
Oliver began to work on the pancakes. He cut a piece off, and pushed his fork into it, then brought it up to his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste.
"Okay," he said, with great sincerity. "If I am actually from another world — and I have no idea, genuinely... I can 100% guarantee that I have never eaten anything that tasted like this. And if I ever get my memories back and have to choose whether to go home?" He pointed at the plate. "This. This is the reason I'd stay."
Venti laughed properly at that. "Swooning over Teyvat for the food. Incredible. Can't even say I blame you, ehaha~!" He speared a piece of apple, then glanced past Oliver. "Heheh, speaking of different worlds... There's the Traveler I talked about. Just came over."
Oliver looked up from his pancakes, cheeks puffed with his food
Venti snorted. "My word," he laughed. "You look like a chipmunk!" He choked down his giggles, and gestured to Oliver to turn around.
Oliver turned, chewing, and saw someone standing at the food stall, ordering something. He finished chewing and swallowed "Is that him?" Oliver whispered to Venti. The bard gave him a nod.
The Traveler — tall, golden-haired, a long braided ponytail trailing behind him. Oliver reached back almost automatically and grabbed his own braid, comparing. "Does my hair look... similar to his?"
Venti heard him. "I dunno... maybe? Yeah, actually," he nodded. "Just some minor differences? As I said, I dunno if you're a Traveler like him and his sibling. And he never told me or anyone else about other Travelers. Who knows, maybe that's a Traveler trade mark. Braided ponytails. You don't look anything alike though. You both have different skin tones,"
"Hmm," Oliver faced forward to Venti again.
"Hm — that's odd, actually," Venti murmured, scanning the area.
Oliver looked up at Venti. "Huh? What is?"
"Usually she's always with him?"
Oliver looked around. "Who, his sibling?"
"No, someone else,"
Oliver was confused, and didn't know who Venti was referring too. "Who are you talking about?"
And then someone appeared out of absolutely nowhere — a small, floating girl, materialising in the air beside their table like she'd always been there. "Hello Venti!"
"GAH—" Oliver's chair tipped back. He hit the ground.
Of course, that sent off the giggles in Venti.
"Oh! Paimon is so sorry!" The girl dropped down instantly, reaching out to help.
"Oliver, haha — this is Paimon!" Venti managed between fits of laughter. "She's friends with the Traveler—"
"Paimion's really sorry!" The small girl said again.
Oliver sat up, brushed himself off, and looked at Paimon properly.
She was — quite small. Tiny even. No bigger than a small cat. He blinked. "Wow. You're... really small—"
Paimon's hands flew to her hips. "Hey! So what if Paimon is small!"
"PffFT—" Venti pressed both hands over his mouth.
Paimon whipped around. "Don't you dare—"
Venti tried. "Ehe!-,"
The tiny girl grunted, and zipped over to him. "What do you mean 'EHE' Stop!"
The two of them descended into bickering, Paimon indignant and hovering, Venti barely keeping himself together. Oliver watched from the ground with genuine amusement, then sat back down in the chair. Paimon's voice was really squeaky. And I thought Venti sounded like a toy...
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Paimon — it was funny—" Venti managed.
Paimon huffed, then drifted over toward Oliver with a more curious look. "So who are you? Paimon doesn't think Traveler have met you before. Or Paimon."
"I...," Oliver was about to speak, but Venti did it for him.
"We're theorizing if he could be a traveler or not," Venti said.
That caught Paimon's attention. "Oh!" She lowered down and sat at the edge of the table.
"Yeah," Venti said. "But he's lost his memories, he doesn't remember anything..."
"Hmm..." Paimon looked at Oliver, then back at Venti. "So Paimon guesses you're helping him around?"
"Uh-huh! Yours truly! Mondstadt's finest bard, sworn protector of one small amnesiac Oliver—" He reached over the table, and ruffled Oliver's hair again.
Paimon giggled. "Well at least you're finally doing something useful!"
"Yeah, I- HEY! Now wait just a minute!" Venti snapped.
Paimon was already gone, zipping back to the Traveler's shoulder as he settled in at a nearby table with his food. "Ooh! Fisherman's Toast!!!" She swiped one off his plate without hesitation. "Nom nom!"
Venti watched her go and shook his head. Then he looked at Oliver. "Don't mind her. I'm not that unhelpful and lazy." He leaned in conspiratorially. "It's less laziness and more..." he lowered his voice, "an old god taking a well-earned rest."
Oliver chuckled. "Well, I guess I can't say you don't deserve it then," he smiled.
Venti smiled back — soft and easy. "Finish up, and then I'm taking you to the tavern. I need my daily wine~." He patted his stomach.
Oliver giggled. "You just throw around to everyone how much of a heavyweight you are, huh~?"
Venti giggled, and stuck his tongue out at him.