Honkai: Star Rail oneshots

[aventurine/sunday] out of character

written for ficwip's all ships ship week 2024! day 1: "i didn't know where else to go."

cw: Aventurine/Sunday, fluff, drunkenness, pet names, kissing

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Sunday feels warm and heavy when he leans against Aventurine. Like the catcakes when they impose their want for cuddles on him, Aventurine thinks. Sunday's hair is just as soft, and Aventurine can feel his poorly-stifled giggles as vibrations through the hand he's placed on Sunday's back—not so different from his cats' gratified purrs when he finally pulls them into his embrace. He leans in to kiss Sunday's temple, and catches a strong whiff of what must be the reason Sunday is acting so... out of character.

"Had a little too much to drink, did you?"

Sunday groans an affirmative. "Just... just a little," he mumbles into Aventurine's shoulder, before shifting his head in an attempt to muffle his voice less—but ends up veering to the side so much, he almost slips off altogether. The groan he lets out when Aventurine rights him is much less affirmative.

Aventurine chuckles. "Let's get you inside." He steadies Sunday while the other man clumsily kicks off his shoes. Sunday starts to gravitate toward the sofa, but Aventurine pulls him back. "Not there, silly. The bedroom."

They make their way while Sunday protests. "I'm dirty," he insists, gesturing with alarm at the clothes he's wearing. "Shouldn't be... on your bed," he implores, but Aventurine guides him to sit down on it anyway. He helps Sunday shrug off his outer layers, and any belts or straps that look like they'd be uncomfortable to sleep in.

"That's okay. I don't mind," he assures. He nudges Sunday to lie down on the bed, and the latter does so easily, despite the crease between his brows. "Really." Aventurine brushes some hair away from Sunday's face, notices how his blinks linger just a little bit longer each time. He's on the verge of passing out. It's a miracle he didn't already, on the way to Aventurine's place. Aventurine makes a note to let Sunday know, when he's more sober, that he can always ask to be picked up.

"Thank you," Sunday suddenly says. His voice is as mellow as the gaze he fixes on Aventurine. "I didn't know where else to go. Didn't... didn't want anyone else to see me like this...." His eyes fall shut. "Sorry for the trouble...."

"Don't be," Aventurine replies, though he doesn't know if Sunday is still awake to hear it. There's no reaction when he leans down to place a kiss onto the other's forehead—but it makes Aventurine smile, regardless. "You're always welcome here. Rest well, my heart."