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Ganyu should have brought her clipboard with her. It’s a thought that she has a little too late but there isn’t a use in crying over spilled Cocogoat milk.
Beidou turns to her on the dock, a smirk spreading wide across her face as she looks Ganyu over from her horns to her toes. Then she pulls the timepiece from her pocket, makes a show of calculating the hours, and then says, “A little early, aren’t you? You don’t start doling out tickets until at least noon.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I am not always working.” She is not anxious. Beidou laughs and the boisterous sound of it actually eases the tension that draws Ganyu as tight as her bow. Still. Her clipboard is like an anchor and oftentimes when it comes to this woman, Ganyu finds herself adrift at sea.
“Can’t imagine that,” drawls Beidou. “You and that little clipboard of yours—” Beidou stops herself. She looks over Ganyu once more, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed in observation.
Ganyu’s mouth quirks ever-so-slightly. “Have you noticed then?”
“Brunch break?”
“More like a day off.”
“Bullshit,” replies Beidou. “You’ve never… Well, I’ve never seen you—Do you even remember the last time that you took a proper day off?”
Ganyu does. It was sometime in the aftermath of the Archon War and Morax made her—Ganyu swallows. She takes a deep breath. Upon second thought, if Morax made her get some post-war rest then she supposes that wasn’t a day that she willingly took off, was it? She isn’t the type to—
“You know it was a rhetorical question, right?” Beidou’s voice cuts into her thoughts politely, but there’s an undercurrent of amusement that forces Ganyu’s bones to relax.
“So, perhaps not a full day off—”
“See, I told you,” says Beidou with a smirk.
“—but I thought that perhaps I deserve to take a half day.”
Beidou raises an eyebrow. “Have you told the boss lady that?”
No. Never. And the question of it isn’t if Lady Ningguang would grant it, it’s more the thought that she may have a heart attack if Ganyu breaks her routine. Ganyu is very particular in the things she does. Her desk is neat and always arranged the same, her paperwork is filed precisely and never changes, and she has a schedule that is strictly adhered to unless otherwise forced.
Lady Ningguang would instantly notice, and then she would pester Ganyu with questions, leaving her a flustered mess.
“Hey,” says Beidou, reaching out to curl her fingers around Ganyu’s hand gingerly. “I was only teasing.”
“I… know that.” Ganyu’s face is aflame. Beidou drags a calloused thumb across the ridge of her knuckles, and Ganyu can’t look anywhere else but track the movement instinctually with her sharp eyes. Warm—Beidou’s hand is warm and rough, and she cradles her palm so sweetly, those callouses dragging across her skin. “Lunch,” blurts Ganyu.
Beidou’s lips part. “Yeah, it’ll be time for that soon. I’ve got a good spread in my cabin—”
“No, I meant—” Ganyu clears her throat, and resolve floods her veins. “I’ll take the afternoon off. Would you like to share lunch together? Preferably not whatever… spread you have in your quarters. There’s a nice and quiet field—”
“Are you asking me on a date?”
Ganyu blinks. Beidou asks her this every time, that devilish mouth of her quirked into an insufferable grin. Teasing, she’s always teasing her, but Ganyu might tease too were she in Beidou’s position. Ganyu flirts by way of tickets and grousing about how Beidou always pays her dues. It’s a lot of will-they, won’t they, but they always find themselves stuck somewhere in the middle, the relationship existent but relatively undefined.
“If sharing lunch is a date then how many have we gone on?” asks Ganyu before she can stop herself.
Then it’s Beidou’s turn to blink in surprise. “I— uh, well—”
Then tension that floods Ganyu’s being dissipates entirely as she watches Beidou flounder. She laughs, the sound tinkling through the air despite the dry quality of it. Ganyu is just unused to being so freely amused, her days spent working with paperwork instead, but there’s something about seeing Beidou dressed down and waffling about that relaxes her.
“It was only a question,” says Ganyu with a smile. “Don’t think too much about it.”
“I mean— Ah.” Beidou clears her throat and straightens her back. “Yeah, they were dates,” she finishes. “I want them to be dates. I mean, we’re dating right?”
Ganyu feels the way her face tightens with amusement. Of course, they are. One does not spend half of their hours around another if there is no interest. Ganyu certainly doesn’t go around kissing others, but she’s mapped out Beidou’s mouth enough times to know every sweet spot.
She reaches out and drags her fingers across the length of Beidou’s shoulders. “A thread,” she says.
Beidou cracks a crooked grin and waggles her eyebrows. “No need to make excuses just to get your hands on me.”
Ganyu’s touch hardens and she pushes at her. “ Don’t say such wicked things, or—”
“Or what? You’ll write me a ticket?”
“There’s a filing code for that, you know. Eliciting favors from a government official—”
“Ganyu,” cuts in Beidou, “did you mean it? Earlier? You’d actually take the afternoon off for me?”
Ganyu’s heart skips a beat as it often does when Beidou goes soft like this. “You’ve complained that I rarely take time for myself.”
Beidou nods with a hum. “This wouldn’t be taking time for yourself—”
“But it would be using my time as I wish, no? And if I wanted to spend it with you, to spend time laying out in the field, knocking knees together as we share Chef Xiangling’s finest?”
The Liyue sun must be a smidge too hot as it beats down on them. Even in the shade found at the edge of the harbor port, Beidou’s cheeks are tinted pink, and she’s tongue-tied for a moment. Eventually, a grin breaks out wide on her face, and she crosses her arms across her chest.
“So you were pining for me that bad, eh?”
Ganyu’s own smile turns salty-sweet. “What about you? You can barely speak.”
Beidou grimaces. “Ouch. Calling my bluff?”
“Always.” The quiet that settles directly after is comfortable. Ganyu stares warmly and Beidou leans against a wooden post on the dock. “Code 3570-E, section three—”
“That’s a new one,” says Beidou with an eyebrow raised.
“—untoward distraction of a government official, thereby impeding the work of the state—”
“I thought you took off?”
Ganyu reaches out, curls her fingers into the silk of Beidou’s top, and leans forward, rising up on her toes. The press of her lips against Beidou’s cheeks comes easily, lingering featherlike and soft. When Ganyu pulls away, Beidou is tongue-tied again.
“Lunch,” she says. “Half an hour. You know where to meet me.”
“I… yeah? Okay, that’s—okay.”
Ganyu grins, cupping Beidou’s face for a moment. When she leaves, Beidou still stands there, floundering awkwardly as Juza laughs from the gangplank behind her.
#
The lunch is, as it often is, just a cover for wandering hands and sweet words.
“Universal Peace,” drawls Beidou as Ganyu unwraps the takeout from Wanmin Restaurant.
“I know it isn’t your favorite—”
“No, that’s…” Beidou chuckles. “I like it perfectly fine even if I prefer a nice, roasted fish. I just meant that it isn’t a staple on the menu.”
Ganyu shoots her a conspiratorial look. “Perks of working for the Qixing?”
“Oh? Using your influence for personal gain—”
“More like Lady Ningguang has financed the restaurant herself and I just reap the benefits,” cuts in Ganyu dryly. “Plus, as you know, young Miss Xiangling is a friend to all. It isn’t so hard to request something special from her. Also, a lovely tea courtesy of Mr. Zhongli.”
Beidou says nothing as Ganyu sets about boiling a kettle of water. There is a ceremony to it, brewing tea. Beidou doesn’t care or think much about such a thing but Ganyu finds comfort in the routine of it. A distraction. No longer does she have many chances to worry her once-calloused fingers along a taut bowstring in a time of war so she makes do as she sifts through tea leaves and weighs out water instead.
The pocket watch is a gift from Beidou, who barely hides a smile as Ganyu watches the second tick by as the tea brews.
“Fancy.”
“Only the best for a blend procured by Mr. Zhongli.”
Beidou nods. “He’d say something like—” She clears her throat and drops her voice in a terrible imitation of how he speaks. “‘If brewed for too long the tannins would become bitter, souring what would be a delightful brew.’”
“Have you shared much tea with him?”
“Of course not,” replies Beidou with a snort, “but I know plenty who have.”
Ganyu hums, pouring out a cup for Beidou, and then herself.
Beidou frowns as she takes hold of it. “This is—”
“At least taste it before you decide something needs to be added.” It is Ganyu’s one rule about tea—at least one sip before ruining it in the way someone wants.
Beidou does as she’s asked, tipping back the cup and taking the expected sip with a smack of her lips. “Hmmm, not bad.”
“But,” prompts Ganyu as she takes a sip, delighting in the subtle, floral tang cutting through the fermented pu’er.
“Sugar. It needs sugar.”
They both laugh, and Ganyu adds the cube of sugar, already having had it prepared knowing Beidou’s quirks. The tea is shared amidst a soft field of flowers, the grass tickling their skin as they dig into their lunch and enjoy the break in their day.
A bit later, when their food is finished, and their cups are empty, Beidou reaches out and takes Ganyu’s hand in hers. She tugs, saying, “Hey, come here.”
Ganyu goes, tipping over against the earth until she’s leaning across Beidou. She can feel the softness on her face, the pitter-patter of her heart as it skips a beat, and Ganyu wonders just how long these sorts of feelings last. Is the honeymoon forever? Will she always look at Beidou and feel so young and over the moon?
“What’s with that look?” asks Beidou, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind Ganyu’s ears.
“Thinking,” says Ganyu.
“Oh?” Beidou’s face is split by a crooked grin.
“Boo.” Beidou’s hand combs through Gany’s hair, catching at the ends. “What’s a woman have to do to get a smooch around here?”
“Be a nuisance, I suppose,” teases Ganyu. She still hangs over Beidou, cupping her face, tracing the edge of her cheekbone with her thumb. “You should count your blessings, Beidou. No one else diverts my attention the way you do.”
She dips close until their mouths are separated by only a breath. “Which is not a complaint, by the way,” continues Ganyu, tilting Beidou’s face back to better the angle.
Beidou is both beautiful and handsome with her face framed by flowers. Ganyu feels lucky to have her spread below, to be pressed so close, to feel the way Beidou breathes against her lips.
“You’re killing me with the anticipation,” says Beidou.
“Oh shush. A little patience won’t kill you. What was it you said earlier? Are you pining for me so terribly?”
Beidou’s smile is relaxed and easy. “Always,” she says softly.
Ganyu’s heart does that fluttering thing in her chest where it skips a beat. She’s too old for this, too seasoned—but she also enjoys the way that it makes her feel off-kilter. Her feelings are a rush, being with Beidou is a rush, even in these softer moments that are stolen on company lunchtime.
“Are you going to kiss me or not? Should I file a formal request?”
“Penal Code 130-30,” murmurs Ganyu. “Any displays of public indecency—”
“Oh, is that what it is we’re doing? Indulging in public indecency—”
Ganyu kisses her. She sweeps close and kisses Beidou, soft lips against her cracked and sea-worn mouth. It’s slow and chaste. Beidou laughs against her, combing through the ends of Ganyu’s hair, and Ganyu thinks that this is, perhaps, a perfectly spent lunch.