Chapter Text
“Shit,” Xingqiu mutters under his breath, standing up so fast his rickety chair falls over.
Eyeing the telltale red mask on the figure approaching the stall from a distance, Xingqiu scrambles to begin packing away the piles of books laid out on the table.
“Abort mission, abort mission!”
Chongyun watches him struggle to cram a tall stack of fifteen books into a small box meant for five.
“Really, Xingqiu, I told you this wouldn’t be a good idea.” Chongyun says, even as he moves to help.
“My dear Chongyun, please. Just help me hide these before Childe gets over here and sees all the fanfiction I wrote about him and Zhongli-xiansheng—”
“Hey Xingqiu, Chongyun. What’re you selling?” A certain harbinger strolls over and peers over at the books in curiosity, reaching for the one of the top of the nearest stack. Xingqiu lunges for the book with a yelp, crashing into the table. He’s too slow, doomed to watch with a dull sense of horror as Childe flips open the cover to the first page.
Childe reads the title aloud.
“Shining Like Gold, a love story between the consultant… and the eleventh…”
The book slips to the floor.
The awkward silence which ensues is only broken by the sound of crinkling as Chongyun slowly unwraps a popsicle, which, after all, was only half of a word away from popcorn. Childe remains still, face frozen in an expression of shock.
“I can explain—“ Xingqiu starts, rather desperately, because he honestly has no idea how he’s going to explain his way out of this situation.
As if rebooted, Childe flushes to a frankly concerning shade of red.
“I’m, um. I, uh, have to go.” Childe staggers backward, disappearing even faster than he came.
“Chongyun, if I get hunted down by Fatui and get assassinated tonight, I want you to burn my secret collection.” Xingqiu says solemnly, patting Chongyun on the shoulder.
Chongyun sighs.
Xingqiu does, in fact, wake up safe and sound the next morning. The realization is a sweet boost to his confidence (or insanity, as Chongyun would say) as he once again set up his stall of, ahem, fine literature, the next morning.
Xingqiu lazily flips through a book as he leans on Chongyun’s shoulder. Chongyun hums a tune quietly. It’s comfortable. So comfortable that Xingqiu briefly allows himself to imagine that they might remain so for the years to come, in peaceful companionship.
Chongyun suddenly tenses.
“Um,” He says.
Xingqiu yawns, and squints upward at whoever has decided to intrude on their moment.
“Oh, hey, Childe,” Xingqiu says. He turns back to his book, brain slowly processing who he just saw.
“Childe?!” Xingqiu gasps.
“Not so loud!” Childe hisses. “I’m in disguise! How did you recognize me?”
The harbinger was wearing a black jacket instead of his usual gray. Xingqiu’s eyes flit from Childe’s virtually unchanged outfit to his disgruntled expression. He had no idea how this man had managed to gain such a high-ranking position in the Fatui.
Xingqiu quickly combed through his mental storage of witty responses.
“So… anything specific you’re looking for?” Xingqiu jokes. “Not here to buy your own fanfiction, are you?”
Perfect.
Xingqiu laughs, slapping Chongyun on the back so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Any moment now, there would be a spluttered denial. Yet as Xingqiu’s laughter became more and more forced, Childe remained silent. He had fixed his gaze onto a particularly interesting stone tile on the floor. Xingqiu gasps and sits up properly.
“Oh, archons. You really are here to buy your own fanfiction.”
Childe let out what sounded suspiciously like a muffled wail.
“Well. Wow. Chongyun, hand me a book, I’ll package it for our… VIP customer.” Xingqiu’s voice is strained with suppressed laughter. Chongyun’s eyes are wide as he gingerly picks up a book and passes it over.
Cute, Xingqiu thinks.
Childe mutters something intelligible.
“Hm?” Xingqiu asks.
“...I’ll take your entire stock.” Childe says.
A strange trio sits in the corner of Wanmin restaurant. A martial artist with a haircut as straight as he is, an exorcist with a fear of spicy foods in a restaurant famed for their masterful use of jueyun chilies, and the lovelorn eleventh Fatui harbinger.
“Care to explain why you’re trying to buy my entire stock of ‘fine literature’?” Xingqiu asks, breaking into a snigger.
“Uh, it’s for research,” Childe laughs nervously. “Obviously, I don’t like Zhongli or anything.”
Xingqiu lifts a crystal shrimp dumpling up from the bamboo steamer and shoves it generously into Chongyun’s mouth. Childe, sitting across from him, blubbers on about his numerous woes.
“I mean, even if I was interested, he’s way out of my league,” Childe says sadly, attempting to stab a dumpling and failing. “He’s so elegant and intelligent and kind and—“
Chongyun finishes the dumpling and begins to slurp his cold noodles.
“—he has the best stories, always passionate to share all that he knows and yet also a wonderful listener—“
Xingqiu takes a sip of his tea.
“—when I got a small scratch after taking on five geovishaps yesterday, he bandaged me up from head to toe! A hilarious overreaction, but he was so sincere it took quite a while to convince him to remove them—“
“Chongyun, help me write this down,” Xingqiu whispers. “‘Shining Like Gold’ is getting a sequel.”
“—I’m a Fatui agent, a harbinger. I’m no stranger to the perils of battle. I won’t shatter from a mere scratch. And yet, Zhongli was so gentle.” Childe stares down at his hands in awe.
Xingqiu polishes off the last crystal shrimp dumpling.
“So, to sum it up, you’re pining.” Xingqiu finishes.
“What? Pining? Me? No way, haha.” Childe says. “It’s just a temporary interest. I’ll get over it.”
“Okay. Alright. So, hypothetically, if we told you Zhongli was in danger...“ Xingqiu trails off. Childe stands up in a panic, rattling the table.
“Zhongli’s in danger?” Childe asks frantically. “Where is he?!”
“Only a temporary interest, eh?” Xingqiu mocks.
Chongyun sighs, digging into his plate of noodles. Xingqiu sends a pointed look in Childe’s direction. Childe looks back and forth between the two of them before slumping back into his seat with the face of a man whose whole world had been shaken.
“Oh my Tsaritsa.” Childe mutters in growing horror. “I’m in love with Zhongli.”
“About fucking time.” Chongyun growls, slamming his claymore into the table. The table collapses with a sad creak.
Xingqiu looks into the overturned plate of cold noodles.
“Ah. I forgot I snuck a jueyun chili in that.”
Their meeting with Childe is cut unfortunately short, as Xingqiu has to escort a slightly unhinged Chongyun home before he caused any more public damage. Xingqiu could see Childe panicking over his not-that-subtle infatuation with Zhongli, and pats him on the back.
“Hey man, it’s alright. Let’s chat about it tomorrow when I deliver your books, hm?” Xingqiu offers.
Childe tries to agree but all that comes out is a strange cough, and in the end he gives up and simply nods. A little confused, Xingqiu thinks, but he’s got the spirit.
“Chongyun,” Xingqiu says. “Don’t forget to say goodbye to Childe!”
Chongyun breaks another table.
“Just put it on this gentleman’s tab,” Xingqiu shouts graciously, pointing towards Childe. Before Childe can respond, Xingqiu grabs Chongyun and runs.
“What a day, huh,” Xingqiu says absentmindedly to Chongyun as they stroll down the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor. Xingqiu unwraps a popsicle and hands it to Chongyun.
Chongyun grudgingly takes a bite. Xingqiu watches as the heat recedes from Chongyun’s cheeks and horror grows in his expression.
“Xingqiu, I just smashed up two of Xiangling’s tables,” Chongyun’s eyes are wide. “They’re never going to let us into Wanmin ever again.”
Xingqiu tries not to let it show how Chongyun’s easy use of the word ‘us’ had flustered him. Chongyun used the word as if them being together was a given. As if Xingqiu and Chongyun were unquestionably a unit.
The feeling doesn’t fade, even when Chongyun gives him a well deserved scolding. The warmth keeps Xingqiu feeling cheerful all the way until they reach their respective homes.
“See you tomorrow, Chongyun! It’ll be fun to watch Childe pining,” Xingqiu calls. Chongyun sighs, but waves back regardless.
“See you tomorrow, Xingqiu.”
Now that he’s gone, Xingqiu finds he’s a little disappointed in the lack of Chongyun-ness. Xingqiu continues on his way up the stairs and lets himself in through the front door. It isn’t until he’s inside that the gears in Xingqiu’s brain click with a resounding finality. He stops dead in place.
Huh.
“I’m in love with Chongyun,” Xingqiu says out loud, and the words fit right. Briefly, he considers panicking. Weighing the options in his head, he decides that it seems like a much better idea just to pass out on his bed and call it a day.