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Why was he here again? Oh right, for the stupid holiday party thrown for fatui members. Why do they even do these parties? It’s not like anyone actually wants to be here anyways.
Scaramouche sat by the fireplace, drink in hand, watching people converse with one another.
“Imbeciles,” Scaramouche muttered to himself.
“You seem cheery this evening,” Signora remarked, appearing from behind him.
“Leave. I don’t want to look at your ugly face” snapped Scaramouche.
“Hmph, it’s hard to talk to a brat like you anyway” replied Signora. She went over to a crowd of people and quickly managed to find someone else to talk to.
Scaramouche got up and went over to the bar to get another drink. He spotted the ginger-haired harbinger, who definitely had one too many drinks.
*Ew. Out of any harbinger who could be here, why did it have to be him?* thought Scaramouche.
“Scara! Hey!” exclaimed Childe as he turned to look at Scaramouche.
*Ugh, he noticed me* thought Scaramouche. “Don’t call me that,” he replied.
“We haven’t talked in a while. How have you been?” asked Childe as he reached for another drink.
Scaramouche hated how genuine Childe sounded, as if he actually wanted to know how he was doing.
“You idiot, you’ve had enough to drink already” said Scaramouche. He grabbed the drink away from Childe.
“It’s a party Scara! Lighten up” replied Childe. He grabbed the drink back and gulped it down.
“I said don’t call me that” stated Scaramouche.
*He’s so stupid for getting that drunk at a party like this. Why is he so cute when he smiles? Wait-what?! Why am I even thinking that about this idiot?* thought Scaramouche.
A few more drinks later, and Childe was getting even more tipsy. Scaramouche had a lot to drink as well, but he wasn’t as far gone as Childe was.
“Childe, I need to get you back to your room” said Scaramouche.
“Awww but why? I’m having so much fun” replied Childe, slurring his words.
“You are very drunk, that’s why” stated Scaramouche. *I can’t believe I’m helping him right now.*
Childe stood up, but immediately lost his balance. Scaramouche quickly grabbed him and put Childe’s arm over his shoulders to support him.
“Wow Scaramouche, I never thought you’d be after Childe” snarked Signora.
“Fuck off!” replied Scaramouche.
They eventually made it out of the party room and into the hallway. The hallway was empty, since mostly everyone was still at the bar. Out of nowhere, Childe grabbed Scaramouche and pushed him up against the wall. Scaramouche let out a small shriek. Childe grabbed his wrists and held them on either side of his head.
“Childe-what are you doing?!” questioned Scaramouche.
“You look very pretty tonight,” said Childe.
A blush formed on Scaramouche’s face. What was happening?
“Childe, stop. You’re drunk” stated Scaramouche. Oh how humiliating this would be if someone saw them.
Childe leaned in close to Scaramouche, their faces merely centimeters apart. Scaramouche managed to move his wrists out of Childe’s hold. Although Scaramouche was shorter than Childe, he still managed to grab Childe’s wrists instead, and flipped them so that Childe was the one pinned to the wall.
“You idiot. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Don’t do that again!” said Scaramouche. Although he said that, Scaramouche would never admit how it put butterflies in his stomach.
Childe wrapped one of his legs around Scaramouche’s and pulled Scaramouche towards him. Scaramouche stumbled forward and their lips met.
*I should be stopping this, but why aren’t I? Why does it feel so wrong but so right?* thought Scaramouche.
As much as he didn’t want to, Scaramouche pulled away from the kiss. He headed towards the room, pulling Childe by the wrist.
“Woah-Scara where are we going?” asked Childe. Scaramouche ignored him.
Once they were inside the room, Scaramouche shut and locked the door behind them. He pulled Childe over to the bed and pushed him on it. Childe landed on his back, making a surprised sound.
“…Scara? What are you-“
“Shut up. You’re so noisy” Scaramouche interrupted.
Childe watched as Scaramouche removed his shoes, and then his gray jacket and threw it to the side. He got on top of Childe, straddling him. A deep blush formed on Childe’s face.
“Scara-hmph!“ Childe began to say before he was pulled into a kiss.
“I had to shut you up somehow” explained Scaramouche once he pulled away.
Scaramouche removed Childe’s chest strap and red button up shirt and threw it by the jacket. He roughly grabbed Childe’s hair and leaned down to kiss him. It was full of passion and desire for more. He paused to take a breath, and then went in for another kiss. However, he felt a hand grab his waist and flip him so that he was now beneath Childe. Childe removed Scaramouche’s top and tossed it aside. Childe went in for a kiss, but Scaramouche turned his head to the side.
“Oh? What’s with that reaction?” asked Childe.
Scaramouche ignored him and tried to get out of Childe’s hold. Childe grabbed his chin and forced Scaramouche to face him. Their lips met once again, though it was sloppy since Scaramouche kept moving. Scaramouche managed to push Childe away. He got back on top of Childe, his knees on either side of Childe’s waist. Childe was in a half-sitting, half-lying position, so Scaramouche pushed Childe back down on the bed. He pinned his wrists together above his head.
“I get to be in control” stated Scaramouche.
Before Childe could respond, he was pulled into a heated kiss. At the same time, Childe felt a hand exploring his body. Everything became a blur, he was feeling so many different things at once. He closed his eyes, and suddenly, he didn’t really know what was going on, after all he had a lot to drink.
Who was he with again? Wait- who is touching him? He left with Scaramouche, right? Childe opened his eyes but everything was blurry. He could make out a figure above him. He felt a hand slither down his waistband.
“Scara…?” asked Childe.
The hands stopped. They let go of Childe’s wrists.
*This isn’t right* thought Scaramouche. Childe was drunk, he didn’t know what was happening. Even though Scaramouche wanted to go further with Childe, he couldn’t violate him like that.
Without saying a word, Scaramouche got off of Childe and reached for his clothes. He stopped when his wrist was grabbed. He turned around and locked eyes with Childe. Although Childe was half-conscious, Scaramouche could tell that Childe recognized him.
“Let go, Childe,” said Scaramouche in a gentle tone.
“Stay. Please?” asked Childe with pleading eyes.
Scaramouche sighed, “I can’t.”
Childe wrapped his arms around Scaramouche’s waist and pulled him to his chest. Scaramouche fought against him for a few minutes, before deciding it was hopeless. Scaramouche’s face was bright red. After a while they both fell asleep.
It was an awkward morning when they both woke up. They came to a mutual agreement to not discuss this. A few days had passed, and the two harbingers avoided each other. That is until Childe came up to Scaramouche after a meeting.
“There’s going to be another party next week. Do you think I can buy you a drink?” asked Childe.
“Only if you wear less layers, so that I can rip your clothes off of you quicker” replied Scaramouche.
Childe laughed, a blush creeped onto his face. “Deal.”
They smirked at one another before going their separate ways. Although they usually hated these parties, they were both looking forward to the next one.