3 Works by queercodedpining
Listing Works
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Summary
“I would level mountains to protect you, Xingqiu.” He whispers the words against Xingqiu’s lips, and his fingers trace up a path to his chin, tilting it up ever so slightly so that all Xingqiu can see are the blue of his eyes, his bluest eyes as he—
Xingqiu jolts up, face burning and blood rushing to his ears. His eyes dart to his surroundings. The window is still open, the moon peeking out from the corner. His bedside lamp is still on, the soft glow illuminating the room just enough for Xingqiu to make out the novel he’d been reading, overturned and lying next to him.
So I…
He stretches a hand to his back. His fingers touch the silk of his sleepwear.
Oh.
// or, 5 times Xingqiu dreams about Chongyun and the 1 time Xingqiu isn’t dreaming.
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“My novel. Remember how A Legend of Sword took off here in Inazuma after it had been picked up by some tourist?”
“Of course I do,” Chongyun thought fondly back to Xingqiu’s shock and elation when he first received a letter from Yae Publishing House, and how he ran up to him in the middle of Chihu Rock and tackled him in a hug, talking so quickly and ecstatically that Chongyun couldn't even keep up. (He only actually learned what his elation was about after Xingqiu mustered up the courage to clarify for him after Lantern Rite one year, his usually confident expression flushed with embarrassment at how he had talked so fast that Chongyun didn't even understand him.)
Xingqiu sighed. “Chongyun. Dearest. Please do not make me spell it out for you.” He looked at him with a kind of desperate exasperation in his eyes, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little as if it would help him read his mind.
Chongyun rolled his eyes at Xingqiu’s antics. “Xingqiu, I can’t know if you don’t tell me how—”
“She’s reading A Legend of Sword! ”// or, Xingqiu freaks out over the fact that THE Divine Priestess of Watatsumi Island, Her Excellency Sangonomiya Kokomi, is reading his book.
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The ugly thing in his stomach grows and wraps around his chest with an unforgiving squeeze. Reki’s hands are fumbling and amicable— they sweep across the taller one’s shoulder lightly, the movement reminiscent of the warmth that had been following Langa all day. But this time, he watches, as a bitter, biting feeling wrings around his bones and presses into his skin.
// or, Langa thinks about Reki (again) and overthinks some more about his (unwanted) feelings of jealousy regarding his very sociable best friend.