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“Do you believe in the concept of soulmates?” Xingqiu asks, his head resting against Chongyun’s shoulder.
“Soulmates?” Chongyun replies, and Xingqiu makes a noise in the affirmative, curls closer into Chongyun’s side. His book lies open on his lap, thin fingers dancing across the page, and he taps the end of a passage as though Chongyun could read the words from there. He tilts his head up a second later—amber eyes bright as they meet Chongyun’s own—and Chongyun blinks back.
“Soulmates,” Xingqiu repeats, his voice light. “The idea that two people, through the grace of the gods, are destined to find each other—no matter who they are, or where they’re from. It’s a bit romantic, don’t you think?”
And Chongyun nods, pulls his feet closer, then his knees up to his chest. “It is,” he replies, and Xingqiu smiles at him as he turns back to his book.
“I don’t believe in soulmates,” Xingqiu tells him, as simple as that, “but I think it would be nice to. It would be comforting, don’t you think? To know you have someone out there that the gods intended, just for you?”
Chongyun glances down at him, then glances away again. “I guess,” he replies, his head falling sideways to knock against the top of Xingqiu’s. “But how would you even know?”
“Know—?” Xingqiu asks, the question hanging, and Chongyun hears him turn a page in his book.
“That a person is your soulmate,” Chongyun says, staring out at the horizon. He breathes in and feels Xingqiu’s hair tickle his skin. “How would you know if another person is your destined one?”
Xingqiu shrugs, the motion jostling them both. “Perhaps you’d just know?” he replies, as though it’s as simple as that. “I don’t know. How does one know when they’re in love?”
Chongyun feels the heat of him against his side, and breathes in again. Xingqiu smells of silk flowers and the sea.
“You just know,” he says eventually, the words parroting Xingqiu’s own, and Xingqiu laughs, side-eyes Chongyun with a smile.
“Exactly,” he says. “I’d imagine it would be like that.”
Chongyun looks away, back up at the horizon. “What would make soulmates different, then?” he asks, as Xingqiu looks back to his book. “How would that be any different than a normal relationship?”
“I, well—I’m not sure,” Xingqiu replies, pausing, and Chongyun hears him turn another page. “I guess it’s the certainty of it all that’s enticing? The idea that your love is destined to be returned?”
Chongyun mulls the words over, frowning slightly. “I suppose,” he says, “but without the confirmation that someone is your soulmate, how can there be any certainty of it? I could love someone more than I’ve ever loved anyone else—so much that I think I know—but without some form of confirmation, how could I be certain that my love would be returned?”
Xingqiu makes a small noise, pushes himself closer into Chongyun’s side, and Chongyun puts an arm around his shoulder.
Eventually, Xingqiu says, “I suppose you couldn’t. But even so, let’s say you got your confirmation—do you still think that would be enough?” He pauses then, and Chongyun lets his hand linger against the shoulder pads of Xingqiu’s coat.
“I think I’d still find myself questioning the validity of it all,” Xingqiu continues a second later, “even if the gods themselves dropped down from the Celestia themselves to tell me.”
Chongyun snorts a laugh, and then Xingqiu laughs too, the two of them leaning into each other just a little bit more.
“I don’t know,” Chongyun replies, finally, “I have absolutely no idea,” and Xingqiu nods back.
“I suppose it’s hard to guess at hypotheticals,” he says, then closes his book, shifts enough so that he’s turned Chongyun’s way. “But if, hypothetically, we did have soulmates—do you think you know who yours would be? Do you think you’ve already found them?”
Chongyun levels him a look, raises his eyebrows in the same breath.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” he asks, “or trying to boost your ego?” and Xingqiu’s face breaks out into a grin, one hand coming to rest on Chongyun’s elevated knee.
“Of course not—” he says, “just looking for confirmation,” and Chongyun laughs again, moves a hand to rest over Xingqiu’s.
“Even if that confirmation won’t be enough?” Chongyun teases him, and Xingqiu makes a face, pinches at what he can of Chongyun’s leg.
“I’d question the gods telling me,” Xingqiu replies confidently, “but I don’t think I’d question you.”
And Chongyun links their fingers together, brings Xingqiu’s hand to his lips. Xingqiu cups a hand around Chongyun’s jaw as Chongyun leans forward—presses small smiles into Xingqiu’s lips—and Chongyun’s smile widens as he leans back out.
“If that’s the case,” Chongyun tells him, “then yes. Hypothetically speaking—I think that I’ve found my soulmate.”
And Xingqiu beams back at him, laughs into the heat of Chongyun’s skin. “Good,” he replies, simply, “because, hypothetically speaking—I think I’ve found mine, too.”