Archive of Our Own

It’s only when Chongyun finally returns to Wangshu Inn that he notices the inconspicuous slip of paper stuck between his vision and his belt. He’s about to discard it as junk when he suddenly recognises the familiar handwriting.

Frowning, he unfolds it and scans the page. Most people consider Xingqiu’s penmanship to be close to illegible but Chongyun has long since grown accustomed to his best friend’s eccentric scrawl so it doesn’t take him long to decipher it. Once he realizes what it’s about, his stomach swoops low and his eyes widen almost unnaturally as the paper slips from his tingling fingers, courtesy of his yang energy running wild.

Oh, this can’t be happening. No, no, no, no, no, this isn’t happening to him right now. This isn't real.

Refusing to believe it, Xingqiu quickly runs a hand through his bangs before continuing to upturn his entire room in search of that silly list, shuffling through stacks of files and the pile of books by his bed for the fourth time that night. He hears the faint rushing of blood in his ears and is actually starting to get a little lightheaded now, breaths coming in quick bursts as he frantically tries to recall where he’s seen it last. He’s so dead if one of the maids finds it before he does—or worse, his father. 

Forcing himself to stop, Xingqiu tries to calm himself down by taking several deep breaths, his eyes fluttering closed. But his heart continues to beat violently against his ribcage, threatening to break through the confines of his chest.

Logically, he knows it must still be somewhere in his room. There’s no way for it to have disappeared into thin air just like that. He simply can’t find it right now. And when he eventually—inevitably—will, he should burn it immediately so something like this can never happen again. The whole thing was a stupid idea anyway, borne out of a moment of weakness and self-indulgence.

Groaning, Xingqiu sinks down the side of his bed until his butt meets the floor uncomfortably and buries his head in his hands. At what point did his life turn into one of his novels and when did he become the impossibly daft hero who makes silly mistakes like these for reader enjoyment.

Xingqiu gets to Wanmin Restaurant just after noon and hides in the shade of the giant maple tree, flipping open his book. Chongyun is supposed to return from his mission today and like every time Xingqiu meets him here for his first lunch back in the city. Just as he manages to successfully lose himself in the story, a pair of white-gold clad legs appear in his field of vision, the familiar jingle of a belt alerting him. “There you are.”

Xingqiu looks up to find Chongyun standing in front of him, squinting against the sun despite the parasol in one hand and a melting popsicle in the other.

“You’re back!” he exclaims, snapping the book shut as he jumps up from the stone wall. “How did everything go? Tell me all about it!”

They start their short trek and Xingqiu grins at his best friend and his chest aches with how much he missed him. He always knows he’s going to miss him before he even leaves but every time he comes back he is reminded just how much he actually cherishes his presence—even though he knows Chongyun will never see him in quite the same way, Xingqiu is certain he would never trade the pleasant warmth being around him evokes for anything in the world, even if the sharp aftertaste of longing it always comes with swallows him whole.

They arrive at Wanmin Restaurant and Xingqiu reluctantly lets himself be talked into a surprise creation by Xiangling after she promises him there will be no carrots involved and Chongyun orders his usual of cold noodles with a side of cucumber salad and everything is fine except for the way Chongyun keeps avoiding his eyes, gaze stoically fixed on the plate in front of him as if it might jump up and attack them. 

“So,” Xingqiu starts, making sure to use his most casual tone because this unusual tension between them is slowly causing him to go insane. “Did you get to see a spirit at least this time?”

Chongyun mumbles something around his noodles before shaking his head. He swallows and sounds so dejected that Xingqiu immediately regrets asking. “No, it was gone before I even reached the place. Apparently, it disappeared just as I crossed the border…”

Blue eyes flicker up briefly only for Chongyun to immediately look away again, fidgeting with the chopsticks in his hand, and it’s making Xingqiu both nervous and frustrated. “Is something the matter?” he asks, placing his own chopsticks on the side in favor of leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

Chongyun stiffens immediately and Xingqiu feels his own body do the same. “Nothing’s wrong,” he replies before quickly stuffing more noodles into his mouth.

Xingqiu narrows his eyes at him. “You're acting strange. What happened on your journey? Did they make you sleep near the Hilichurls again?”

“What’s that book you were reading?”

The abrupt change in topic makes Xingqiu frown but just as he’s about to press the issue further Chongyun properly meets his eyes for the first time today so he changes tactics and decides to indulge him. “It's the story of a young martial warrior who embarks on a journey to uncover the truth behind his master’s mysterious disappearance. It’s quite thrilling, one of the better ones I’ve read recently!”

Chongyun flexes his fingers in his lap, still staring at him. “Is there romance?”

Taken aback, Xingqiu briefly blinks at him in silence before playfully tilting his head to the side, the tassels of his earring tickling his neck. “There isn’t,” he replies, curious. “Why do you ask? Have you suddenly developed an interest in romance novels?”

Brows furrowing, Chongyun studies him for a moment longer before he averts his eyes again, a faint blush dusting the bridge of his nose that makes Xingqiu’s heart skip a beat. But when a breathless chuckle joins the growing flush Xingqiu quickly realizes it must be his yang energy acting up. He frowns. Perhaps it is too hot today, after all…? “Do you need to—”

“Are you finished?” Chongyun interrupts, pushing his chair back with a bit too much force as he gets up. “Can we get out of here?”

Utterly bewildered by his peculiar behavior, Xingqiu can only gape at his best friend. Perhaps he got replaced by a strange spirit sometime during his travels. In that case, he’ll need to find an exorcist that’s at least half as good as Chongyun to get rid of it. “Of course,” he says, pushing his full bowl back. “We can leave.”

“Great, let me just go pay.”

Xingqiu immediately leaps to his feet as well, reaching for Chongyun’s sleeve. “Don’t worry about it—do you even have the Mora?”

“They paid me this time!” Chongyun announces proudly and Xingqiu can’t help but roll his eyes at the excitement in his voice. Only a fool would believe getting paid is something to be proud of when it should be the norm.

“Keep it,” he asserts, “It’s your hard earned Mora after all. I’ll go put it on the Guild’s—”

“No, I want to,” Chongyun insists stubbornly, a flash of determination crossing his features that has Xingqiu’s stomach fluttering.

In the end, Chongyun pays for both of them and Xingqiu vows to invite him to another meal before he leaves again. The short walk back to the Feiyun Commerce Guild is mostly a silent one—Chongyun presumably keeping quiet for the same reason that he’s been acting strange all day and Xingqiu mostly because he’s too caught up in his own thoughts, trying to figure out why that might be. Still, he remains overly conscious of their hands brushing every few minutes and the furtive glances Chongyun sends his way every single time before putting some more distance between them. 

Once, Xingqiu catches him in the act and Chongyun’s eyes widen subtly, his lips parting as if he wants to speak, before he turns away and shoves his hands into his pockets instead. When they reach their destination, however, Chongyun’s actions don’t betray a thing and he politely greets the guards exactly as he always does while Xingqiu leads him up to his room.

“Please excuse the mess,” he says upon entering, suddenly remembering last night’s disastrous happenings and the absolute disarray it left his room in. “I…was searching for something and didn’t have the chance to clean up yet.”

Chongyun stills momentarily, the catch in his breath most likely not audible to anyone other than Xingqiu who has developed a certain sensitivity to any shifts in his best friend’s demeanor, however slight they may be. Wishing he hadn’t, Xingqiu takes off his coat and goes to close the window he left open by accident, the molten heat of summer pouring inside. “I left in a hurry this morning,” he explains, carefully folding his coat before draping it over the chair. “If you want something to cool you down, I can have some shaved ice brought up.”

He picks up a few books that have fallen off his desk to put them away but when he turns around he is met with Chongyun staring directly at him, one hand buried in his pocket and clenched into a fist. Xingqiu opens his mouth to ask him if he would prefer iced tea instead when Chongyun suddenly takes a deep breath, preemptively cutting him off before he could start. 

“I think you mentioned this only once but—” Chongyun falters, a subtle crease between his brows. “Has…your father found you a girl to marry yet?”

Xingqiu drops the book he just picked up back onto the pile on the floor. It sends several others tumbling down with it, making quite the ruckus, but Xingqiu barely registers it, neither the noise nor the one that crashes directly onto his foot. He swallows thickly. His father had indeed mentioned the topic again a few dinners past and in a moment of hopelessness Xingqiu had complained about it to Chongyun. Usually, he prefers not to dwell on issues like these because thinking about growing up, starting a family and living separate lives from Chongyun one day makes his heart ache. 

“Not as of yet,” he replies slowly, unsure why Chongyun would bring it up now. In an effort to appear unbothered he clears his throat and raises a brow at him. “Why? Are you planning on finding one before me?” 

(He refuses to acknowledge how absolutely sick to his stomach the mere thought of Chongyun getting married before him makes him feel. Of Chongyun getting married at all, actually.)

Chongyun takes a deep breath and Xingqiu can literally see the resolve forming on his face, jaw set and eyes shining like when he comes across a particularly interesting lead.

He cocks his head in question, teasing words already on his lips, when Chongyun suddenly pulls something out of his satchel that sucks the air right out of Xingqiu’s lungs.

“Then…” he starts, holding up a familiar slip of paper. “Did you mean to give this to me?”

A beat of silence passes between them. Then Xingqiu manages a lame, “...I have no idea what this is.”

Chongyun’s brows crease adorably at his words, lips pursed in thought as he studies the offending object. “I would recognize your handwriting anywhere,” he says and unfolds the paper, thumb brushing over the Commerce Guild’s embellishment in the corner. It has clearly been unfolded and re-folded several times.

There's not much Xingqiu can say to that so he just clenches his jaw and waits with bated breath for Chongyun to continue. Bordering on desperation, he looks for any sign of Chongyun’s yang energy acting up, cruelly hoping for him to maybe pass out and spare him this humility, but, unfortunately, finds none. In fact, Chongyun seems almost vexingly calm right now, perhaps calmer than he’s been the entire day, his features relaxed and gaze steady before he drops it to the writing Xingqiu could recite by heart.

“Pros and cons of confessing to Chongyun.”

“Please stop,” Xingqiu mumbles quickly, mortified by both the knowledge of what he’s written and his burning cheeks, but Chongyun evidently doesn’t deem it necessary to give him face.

“Pro,” he goes on undeterred, his eyes only flicking up for a moment as he hesitates. “Keep thinking about him.”

Xingqiu’s breath catches and he has to look away, unable to face Chongyun any longer now that this is really happening. 

“Don’t think I could handle him getting a girlfriend,” Chongyun continues. “Keeps getting harder to hide my feelings.”

This truly is the most humiliating experience he had ever been subjected to (and that includes accidentally spilling tea on father’s esteemed guests from Snezhnaya.) Xingqiu never thought Chongyun would blatantly play with his feelings like this but his best friend is turning out to be quite the merciless type indeed.

“No more what-ifs. Getting closure.”

Xingqiu doesn’t dare move. Maybe if he stays completely still, Chongyun will forget he’s even here and they can both pretend this never happened. Maybe if he digs his nails into his palms hard enough, he will wake up in his bed with an open book on his face because he fell asleep reading again.

“...Hurts to keep my feelings secret.”

Chongyun swallows quietly and Xingqiu feels as if there’s not a single breath of oxygen left in the air for him to draw. The sound of paper rustling barely makes it past the rushing in his ears and the wild thumping of his heart but when Chongyun speaks again, his voice sounds closer than before. Xingqiu refuses to look up. “Cons. Might irreparably damage our friendship. Might never get to hold his hand again.”

A pair of gold slippers appear in his line of sight and the faint flow of coolness consistently emanating from Chongyun that suddenly hits his hot skin causes him to shiver.

“Would—” Chongyun’s breath trembles and Xingqiu's whole being aches to look at his best friend because he’s never heard him like this before and it hurts; to know that he’s the reason, and that nothing will ever be the same after tonight. “Would break my heart if he rejects me. Scared that—”

Gritting his teeth, Xingqiu forces himself to raise his head, putting everything he has into a glare to send his way despite the pressure building behind his eyes. “If you have something to say about—this, then, instead of reciting my words to me, I would appreciate it if you could use your own—”

But at the sight in front of him he falters, all breath leaving him. Chongyun is standing so close, Xingqiu barely manages to avoid bumping their heads together, staring at him with eyes sparkling like glaze lilies at night and an adorable flush tinting his pale skin. 

“I won’t break your heart,” he points out quietly and the softness grazing his features alone would probably be enough to have Xingqiu pass out if he were a weaker person.

As it is, he manages a breathless gasp at least but fails to point out the irony of the situation, his heart stuttering to a stop inside his chest at Chongyun’s confession.

When Chongyun’s gaze shifts towards his lips, Xingqiu suddenly recalls the last point on the list in a flash, hastily scrawled upon waking up after one particular incriminating dream: Potential kissing?

There’s a sudden touch against the back of his hand that makes him tense, cool fingers tentatively brushing over his knuckles, and Chongyun gives him a small hopeful smile. “I could never break your heart,” he repeats, licking his lips. “So…can I…?”

Xingqiu is nodding before he even finished asking.

The distance between them is so little that neither of them even really has to move for their lips to meet, a chaste press of coldness in an overheated stuffy room that is over before Xingqiu can even close his eyes. 

But Chongyun doesn't go far and Xingqiu bites the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling at the dazed expression on his face. He expected the lingering sense of anxiety to grow worse, perhaps even a flurry of butterflies threatening to burst out of his stomach, but instead he finds all the fear and tension from earlier dissipate by the second, that same pleasant warmth he knows so well replacing the fear in his chest and relieving the tightness around his throat. 

Chongyun huffs quietly, the corners of his lips pulling upward, and when Xingqiu returns the smile he realizes his lips are tingling pleasantly. “Precisely as I expected,” he whispers smugly, too scared to speak up in case he breaks the spell. “Though the first move is usually reserved for the chivalrous hero.”

Chongyun snorts softly and Xingqiu can feel his breath dance across his lips. He’s still holding onto his hand, rubbing circles into his palm. “So this was your plan all along?”

Xingqiu schools his expression and nods seriously, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Didn’t seem like it a minute ago.” Chongyun hums and Xingqiu can hear the mirth in his tone. “So if I’m the hero, does that make you the naive but charming love interest?”

Surprising even himself, Xingqiu breaks out in laughter, all the pent-up tension, years worth of longing and excessive worrying from last night lifting from his shoulders like a heavy weight. Reaching up with his free hand, he threads his fingers into Chongyun’s coarse strands and brushes them out of his eyes. He lets it linger in order to cradle his cheek like he dreamt of doing so many times, and, seemingly instinctively, Chongyun leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

When Chongyun shifts after a few seconds, Xingqiu lets him go only reluctantly. “What was that other point you had?” He hums as if in thought and pretends to check the list again. “...Traveling together?”

Xingqiu thinks it’s quite unfair how his cheeks have just cooled down a bit only for them to furiously blush again the moment he remembers all the other embarrassing things he wrote. “Shush, it’s silly!” he complains and playfully swats at his arm. 

Chongyun laughs but then his expression turns serious, an earnestly hopeful gleam to his eyes as he studies him. “Is that something you would want to do? I know it’s not easy because you have obligations to your family but we will find a way to make it work, if you really want to.”

“Maybe,” Xingqiu breathes, and it’s his first time actually admitting that out loud. ”I’ve always enjoyed your stories about all the things you encounter on your journeys, and, as a writer, I’ve naturally dreamt about seeing them for myself one day.” He hesitates, remembering the dread with which he wakes up every morning Chongyun is set to depart. “I also quite dislike it when you’re gone for so long.”

Chongyun’s face lights up in quiet delight at the admission and Xingqiu fights the urge to spill even more of the secret affection he’s harbored for years now if only it meant seeing more of that particular expression. A time and a place, he chides himself.

“I’ll have to take you then,” Chongyun promises, interrupting his thoughts. “Leaving you behind is my only regret every time.”

A sudden wave of fondness washes over his heart and Xingqiu finds he cannot control the urge any longer so he surges forward and kisses him again with blazing cheeks and eyes squeezed shut tight. He wraps his arms around Chongyun’s neck and locks them behind it to pull him closer like he’s read about in the few love stories he’s bought.

Xingqiu wouldn’t consider himself weak nor particularly frail but compared to him, Chongyun has always been slightly broader in build. And despite being arguably more versed in the theoretical workings of romance, the way Chongyun is holding him right now has Xingqiu weak in the knees. Snaking one arm around his waist, Chongyun grabs him by the back of his thigh with the other in a show of confidence Xingqiu has only ever seen from him during combat. Large familiar hands support him gently and the sensation of palms rough from handling a claymore all day against his bare skin makes it hard for Xingqiu to suppress some kind of sound in the back of his throat.

When the need for air forces them to part, Chongyun surprises him even further by hugging him immediately after, pressing him close with one hand cradling the back of his head.

“I've liked you for so long that this feels quite unreal now,” he mumbles and something inside of Xingqiu settles into place at the admission, his own arms coming up to return the hug when Chongyun buries his face in the small space between his shoulder and his neck.

They have never really shied away from physical contact with each other, but Xingqiu has never allowed himself to indulge in it quite like this, smiling into the fabric of Chongyun’s hood and breathing in his comforting scent. It’s warm and reassuring and safe—all those things that Xingqiu has always felt with Chongyun but amplified by a million, and he suddenly realizes it could never have been this with anyone else. 

When Chongyun eventually lets go, he meets his gaze with an intensity that more than makes up for avoiding his eyes the entire time earlier. His hair is slightly disheveled and there’s still a pink tinge to his cheeks, his lips pulled into a soft smile. “I'm glad your father hasn't found you someone to marry yet,” he admits, tone thoughtful. “I don’t think I want you to marry anyone else.”

And that does manage to make Xingqiu’s stomach swoop like in all those romance novels, after all, an inelegant snort escaping him. He doesn’t miss the way Chongyun’s eyes flick to his lips at the sound.

“Splendid,” he breathes, nodding approvingly. “Because I don’t see myself getting married to anyone other than you anyway.”

Chongyun laughs softly and leans in to press a featherlight kiss to his cheek, and it’s only then that Xingqiu realizes how hot his skin really is, Chongyun’s lips shockingly cold in comparison. 

“Xingqiu?” 

He waits for him to hum quietly in acknowledgement. 

“I really do like you a lot.”

Twining their fingers together in the small space between them, Xingqiu leans forward and places his head on Chongyun’s shoulder, reveling in the way he immediately feels his hands being squeezed softly in return. “I really like you, too.”

A sudden gust of wind manages to re-open the window Xingqiu closed earlier and the rustling sound of paper makes him look up just in time to watch the silly list that started this all get swept off the ground and up into the air. 

Jumping a little, Chongyun quickly snatches it before it can disappear out of the window and Xingqiu immediately makes a grab for it to try and steal it from him, but Chongyun simply holds it up higher and throws him a questioning look.

“I think it’s best if you give it to me so I can properly dispose of it,” Xingqiu argues, trying and failing to stretch his body enough to reach.

Chongyun cocks his head, a rare mischievous spark in his eyes. “But didn’t you give it to me?”

“I did…” Xingqiu lies begrudgingly, not taking his eyes off the embarrassing proof of his deepest desires. “But—”

“Then it’s only right for me to keep it,” Chongyun concludes with a grin. “You can’t take back a gift.” 

He pockets the note and Xingqiu barely manages to suppress an agonized groan. This piece of paper is going to haunt him forever now. Quickly glancing at Chongyun’s pleased expression, he’s actually pretty certain he’ll never hear the end of it; all those stupid things he wrote on a whim entirely fueled by a sudden bout of inappropriate self-indulgence... But, Xingqiu amends with a sigh of feigned exasperation that quickly morphs into a smile, it might not be such a bad thing entirely—so long as Chongyun stays by his side for all of it, he can tease him about it as much as he wants.