Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hu Tao, please, I’m begging you to be serious,” Xiangling groaned.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear friend Xiangling?” Hu Tao asked innocently, all the while clutching an imposing looking leather-bound novel on horror stories.

Xiangling shot Chongyun an exasperated look.

“Hu Tao,” Chongyun began, “I think she might be referring to the fact that all your ideas so far have been…” He paused in thought, trying to find a polite way to phrase his words. “Not ideal,” he managed to finish off.

Hu Tao gasped dramatically, attracting a few stares, while also earning herself an eye roll from Xiangling and a small laugh from Gaming, who was tagging along this time.

Xiangling sighed and continued her chiding, “Come on, Hu Tao. I’m looking for gifts for my seven year old cousin. There’s no way I’m giving her that.”

“And why not?” Hu Tao challenged stubbornly. “You said she likes to read. Surely you want your cousin to grow strong and courageous. What better way than some ghost stories to toughen her little self up?”

Actually, Chongyun admitted to himself that Hu Tao kind of had a good point. But he looked at his friend and couldn’t help but sigh.

The funeral director was literally shoving the book in Xiangling’s face, to the point where it almost made contact with her nose. It was painfully obvious Hu Tao was just trying to rile their younger friend up.

“Wow, you guys really are a lively bunch,” Gaming remarked cheerfully to the side.

Xiangling and Hu Tao said nothing, too busy still squabbling. “Yeah,” Chongyun agreed ruefully, thinking of all the antics he’s had to witness over the years.

Gaming laughed in sympathy. “Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

Chongyun had to laugh at that. “Easy to say when they’re not bothering you every week. Plus, the biggest menace isn’t even here today,” he added.

Gaming turned towards him, obviously confused. “Really? Who?”

Chongyun stared at him, then sighed. Gaming was lucky he hadn’t fallen victim to his best friend’s schemes yet. “Xingiu,” he simply replied.

“Damn, really?” Gaming chuckled. “Didn’t take him for a troublemaker. Guess I need to get to know him better.”

“You should,” Chongyun said truthfully. “He’s a great friend to have, despite the pranks."

Gaming smiled knowingly. “Here, I’ll deal with the two smaller menaces,” he offered, before moving over and butting in between the two Pyro-vision wielders. “You guys. Stop arguing already and let’s get a book before we end up missing lunch. Because, boy, I am starving!” He chirped.

“Gaming, why are you always thinking about food?”, Hu Tao teased lightly, while Xiangling swiftly moved to pay for her things. Gaming laughed the comment off and guided the group towards the exit, looking back to ensure Chongyun was following.

Chongyun smiled at him in thanks, and joined them.

As soon as he was back from the outing and entered his room, Chongyun laid down on his bed. He stared at the ceiling for a bit, enjoying the peaceful silence around him.

It had been a fun day, but also a loud one. There were even moments that had been much too wild for him.

He sighed, and closed his eyes. Usually Xingqiu would have been there too, but not today. Apparently, something happened at the Guild. He smiled a little despite his exhaustion, thinking of his friend running around trying to keep everything in order.

Maybe he shouldn’t be laughing at his friend's struggles, but it was a funny thought.

Chongyun sat up and looked outside. The sun was beginning to set, but there was still about an hour or so of daytime left.

Xingqiu was out there handling things with the Guild, and Chongyun wasn’t one to be outdone when it comes to hard work. He steeled his resolve, and would make this hour count.

He moved to his desk and picked up the book on ancient exorcist techniques he’d been studying. Most of the techniques were outdated and not very effective, but Chongyun thought they showcased the basics and foundations of the art of exorcism excellently. He continued reading about charms and talismans, annotating as he went, and time flew by as the sun set.

Someone angrily slammed the door, making Chongyun perk up from his study, startled by the noise. It was Xingqiu, which surprised him even more. Not the fact that he randomly showed up, because that happened on the regular. What surprised him was the doorslam, because his friend wasn’t one to take his anger out on inanimate objects.

“Ugh, it isn’t fair!” Xingqiu complained while plopping down face-first onto his best friend’s bed. Chongyun set down his book, and patiently turned towards him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“My brother happened, that’s what,” Xingqiu started complaining right away. “Some man he met claimed he’d found ‘the ultra-secret component to making gold out of silk’, and offered him, quote unquote, ‘the deal of a lifetime!’”

“And he fell for it?” Chongyun guessed before Xingqiu could finish.

“And the fool, he- he fell for it!” Xingqiu spluttered angrily. Chongyun watched and smiled a little, as the boy aggressively screamed into his pillow. Even after a full day of silly antics, he still felt like he had missed Xingqiu’s.

Despite this, he let out a sigh. He’d heard of Xingqiu’s brother’s, for lack of a better word, stunts more than anyone in Liyue, but this still managed to surprise him. He’d think even the infamous heir of the Feiyun Commerce Guild wouldn’t fall for such a stupid, shallow trick.

The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. He shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t come today. You had to handle the cleanup afterwards?” Chongyun asked. Xingqiu nodded, with his head still buried in the pillow.

Chongyun felt sorry for his friend; he couldn’t imagine having such a troublesome older sibling.

“That sucks,” Chongyun stated.

Xingqiu lifted his head. “Yeah, it does,” he grimaced, with his blue hair all jumbled up from the pillow.

Chongyun smiled at him, but fell silent. He didn’t know what to say to comfort his friend, though he wished he did.

Xingqiu smiled back, though. At least he seemed untroubled by his friend’s silence, which Chongyun supposed was all that mattered. “Thank you for always letting me come in unannounced, by the way. How was today?” Xingqiu asked while sitting up properly.

“No need to thank me, and it was fun, albeit a bit rowdy,” Chongyun confessed. He put his book away, as it was late anyway. And, he couldn’t focus on studying now that Xingqiu was here.

Xingqiu hummed. “Yeah, I can imagine the noise, with Hu Tao, Xiangling and Gaming all gathered in one place.”

“As if you’re not part of the crazy ones,” Chongyun teased nonchalantly, to which Xingqiu gasped in mock offence.

“I’m hurt, Chongyun. How could you say such things to me, especially after such a long, harsh, tiring day?”

Chongyun only smiled, earning himself another overdramatic gasp. Of course, he would have liked for Xingqiu to be there. Hanging out with friends was always fun, but being with Xingqiu somehow made things even better.

Xingqiu was looking at him silently. Chongyun almost asked what the matter was, when a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. Xingqiu started to grin. “Well, since the others got to have you for the entire day, and you just accused me of being crazy, I’d say it’s fair to ask for compensation.”

Chongyun paused. Did he really just say that? How Xingqiu managed to say these things so lightheartedly was beyond him. “What kind of compensation?” He asked instead.

“Let’s go to Wanmin!” Xingqiu replied cheerfully.

He was already out the door before Chongyun could agree.

“It’s you two! Wait just a minute, I’ll be with you real quick,” Xiangling chirped happily.

Xingqiu smiled and Chongyun nodded. They moved towards an empty table near a window, and sat down.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come during rush hour,” Chongyun noted guiltily, as he watched Xiangling dart from table to table. Remembering the busy day they had spent together, he was surprised to see her. He could respect that kind of dedication to her work.

“Nonsense, I’m sure Xiangling appreciates our company all the more during this stressful time,” Xingqiu reassured. He grabbed the menu and scoured the list of dishes, frowning his brows in concentration.

That wasn’t good. “You’re going to get wrinkles before even becoming an adult if you keep doing that,” Chongyun remarked.

Xingqiu lifted his head. His lips parted slightly in confusion. He must’ve been concentrating really hard if the usually so quick-witted friend didn’t get Chongyun’s jibe. Or he was more tired than he’d let on earlier.

Chongyun rolled his eyes a little, then tapped his own eyebrows to get his point across.

Xingqiu’s eyes lit up in recognition, and he smiled softly, before puffing up his chest.

“Don’t worry, Chongyun. If I’m anything like my mother, I shouldn’t be getting wrinkles until I’m at least 60,” he declared proudly. “Now, don’t chide me until we’ve ordered, or we’ll end up being here all evening,” he said as he went back to his menu.

Chongyun let out a small chuckle, before a gentle smile placed itself on his lips. It didn’t last long before Xingqiu’s smile turned into a concentrated frown once again, but he let him be this time.

His friend could get so absorbed in the most interesting things after all, and who was he to say anything about that?

A sudden thought struck Chongyun like a flash of the Electro Archon’s ominous thunder, and he quickly added, “Don’t order anything with carrots, though.”

Xingqiu merely hummed, still engrossed in the list of dishes presented to him.

Chongyun sighed and deflated, unsure if he heard his warning. But then, even if he had, there’s no saying Xingqiu would listen to him, Chongyun thought sulkily. After all, this is the same guy who ordered not one, but two carrot potato stir-fries, fully aware of his own dislike of the orange veggie.

Ashamed to admit it, sometimes, Chongyun swore he could still hear a sweet voice saying, “But you’ll finish it right, Chongyun?” in his nightmares. He also swore it would be a secret he would take to the grave.

Xingqiu quickly looked up, eyes zoning in on his friend like magnets. It was unsettling and Chongyun flinched despite himself.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Xingqiu reassured him. “You’re taking the usual, right?” He quipped.

Chongyun nodded hesitantly, relaxing only when Xingqiu was back to focusing on choosing his meal.

After a little while longer, Xingqiu finally shut his menu decisively.

A dramatic tension enveloped their table, and it seemed as if the entire restaurant slowed to a theatrical halt, with Chongyun and Xingqiu the only ones still moving.

Chongyun sat back, letting Xingqiu have his moment.

To them, the world stopped spinning, for just a second.

Xingqiu closed his eyes, and opened them to reveal a small sparkle from the evening light.

The very air around him brimmed with excitement, and he let out a smile.

It was abundantly clear. He had made his choice, and was now ready to act.

He raised his right hand, swiftly and elegantly, and the sudden movement did not go unnoticed, for Xiangling rushed to his side.

Upon their friend’s entrance into their bubble of theatrics, Xingqiu cleared his throat, and, then, declared loudly and proudly,

“The stir-fried fish noodles, please!”

“Do you like it?” Chongyun asked as Xingqiu completely devoured the soft, flat noodles.

Xingqiu swallowed, wiped his mouth clean and answered, “Yes. It’s exactly how I like it,” then went right back to ravaging his food.

Surprisingly, his plate was already almost half empty.

Chongyun supposed this is what happens when one orders their dish as if their entire life depended on it. When they’d started having such a strange routine, he couldn’t recall, but it was a staple now whenever they ate at Wanmin. He thought he’d be embarrassed to be involved in such a lavish display, but he wasn’t.

How could he, when it so obviously brought his friend so much joy?

Xingqiu’s silliness was annoyingly infectious, Chongyun thought with a smile. Seemed his yang energy had gotten used to it as well, because he felt surprisingly alright.

Still, he mused, it had always been a mystery how Xingqiu could eat so quickly and still manage to appear elegant and dignified.

He looked at his friend’s plate. Only a quarter remained now. Mildly unsettling, but Chongyun would justify it by saying good manners were merely a part of chivalry.

He calmly slurped his own noodles with mountain delicacies, and let out a little sigh of contentment. He may not be able to eat as fast, but he could definitely savour some good food. The normally hot noodles were chilled just right, and he was definitely going to thank Xiangling later.

Xingqiu was looking at him from across the table.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” his friend quickly replied. Then he suddenly asked, “You’re paying this time, right?”

“Yeah,” Chongyun answered, puzzled. Such a simple question couldn’t be behind Xingqiu’s staring.

Chongyun observed him a little longer, trying to figure out what was wrong. Was he maybe bothered by what happened with his older brother? It didn’t seem that way though. Was it just because Xingqiu was tired?

No, what was happening now had a very different feeling. Chongyun hesitated a little, unsure how to or even if he should act, but decided to take Xingqiu’s word for it and went back to eating.

He took up a mushroom and plopped it in his mouth, and the flavour hit his tongue pleasantly. It had a chewy texture and a mild seasoning. It was really good.

Xingqiu was still staring at him though, he noted, as he put his chopsticks back down. He was definitely worried now.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong.” Xingqiu reassured him.

“You aren’t eating though,” Chongyun pointed out.

“Ah, I suppose I’m not,” Xingqiu sighed while glancing at his plate.

“What is it?” Chongyun prodded.

It was obvious his friend wanted to say something. So why didn’t he?

Xingqiu looked through the window, breaking their eye contact.

The sun had fallen, and the city lights illuminated the streets.

People came out to enjoy the Liyue night life, while others began their daily evening walks. It was a peaceful sight, one Chongyun knew the both of them cherished very much.

But right now, he could only feel worried.

The lamp outside flickered a little, its glow dancing across his best friend’s face.

Chongyun waited patiently, eagerly even, for Xingqiu to find his words.

“I just wanted to thank you. That’s all,” came the quiet response.

Chongyun blinked, taken aback. This was not what he’d been expecting. “There’s nothing to thank me for—”

“Still, thank you, Chongyun. It… All of this,” he took a breath. “It means a lot to me,” Xingqiu finished with a smile.

And Chongyun felt something in his chest do something weird.

“This means a lot to me too,” he managed to reply despite it.

“Good night, mom, dad,” Chongyun said to his parents.

He walked into his room, tucked himself into bed, and stared out the window.

The moon was partly hidden by a set of clouds that gently glided across its shining surface.

It was not a full moon though. After examining it a bit more, Chongyun concluded it was a waxing crescent moon. Ambitious spirits looking to grow their power as the moon grew were especially prevalent during this time. It would do good to banish them before they reached their final form at the full moon.

Satisfied with this new goal, Chongyun gently closed his heavy eyelids and allowed sleep to overtake him.

Except, it didn’t seem to come like it usually did.

He lay in bed longer, making sure to relax his body so he’d have a good rest for the day to come. But, still he did not fall asleep.

His mind drifted, recounting faint moments throughout the day. Murmurs of conversations and hazy memories of studying played one after the other.

“Thank you, Chongyun. It… All of this… It means a lot to me.”

Chongyun jolted, painfully awake.

That one memory sprung out, achingly crystal clear.

It was so realistic, almost as if he was reliving the very moment.

Troubled, he closed his eyes, trying once again to fall asleep.

But once again, Xingqiu’s voice played, repeating the same phrase again. His best friend’s face, glowing warmly from the lights in the street, stood out brightly amongst the foggy musings of his thoughts.

Scenes of the dinner played, and when they arrived at Xingqiu’s heartfelt thanks, Chongyun couldn’t help but vividly remember the weird thing he felt in his chest.

He startled again, opening his eyes. Merely recalling the feeling felt strange and uncomfortable. He touched the place where his heart was, thinking back to what it was like.

He thought of Xingqiu’s words and his soft voice as he said them, the radiant yet slightly bashful look on his face, the way his eyes spoke in a way Chongyun couldn’t describe. But even though there were no words for it, he understood.

And that feeling. He remembered it so well.

It was so odd, yet somehow pleasant.

It was exciting, as if little bundles of energy bubbled up inside him.

It was, almost, nice.

Thinking of it, it was also almost as if he was feeling it now.

Chongyun shot up completely this time. It was not just like he was feeling it, he truly was.

Panic started creeping in. He had stopped thinking of the memory, yet still the feeling persisted.

He could feel his heart racing against the palm of his hand, and it seemed as if something buzzed around in his stomach.

Had he eaten something strange? Perhaps something to stir up his yang energy? He recounted and recalled, yet nothing came to mind that could be behind this bizarre physical reaction.

And still his heart was beating ever so fast, and that feeling, that strange, uncomfortable, captivating sensation was still there.

Chongyun sat completely still, trying to understand what was happening. He was also trying to stay calm and not panic, and was kind of successful.

Maybe, this had something to do with Xingqiu, he thought. But the question was, what?

It could be one of his pranks.

Yes, it must be. This wouldn’t be the first time his friend had tried to provoke his troublesome condition, after all.

But Chongyun frowned and paused this train of thought. While this logic seemed to make sense, he just couldn’t fully grasp the situation.

The obvious question was, what had Xingqiu done exactly? The noodles had tasted the same as usual, and the music in the restaurant had been nothing but pleasant and relaxing. In fact, nothing had been out of the ordinary.

It had just been a dinner, amongst the many ones they’d shared together.

He felt a growing frustration in the back of his mind.

It didn’t help that his stomach seemed to be doing flips, his heart was still racing, and his face was growing hot. It also simply irritated him how no matter how he looked at things, he just didn’t get what was happening.

He felt helpless, and he did not like that.

Chongyun felt the urge to clench his fists, scream, maybe punch something, then scream again. And he was very tempted to do exactly that.

But he sighed. He knew getting worked up would not help the situation. He sat up, resolutely put one foot over the other and his hands on his knees, and took a deep breath in.

Mindfulness always cleared the mind. He exhaled slowly, feeling the cold air glide out of his body, and repeated this process, grounding himself in the simple act of breathing.

He had almost let himself get lost in his exasperation. Almost let his judgement become clouded by emotion. Now, his mind was clear, he thought as he took a final, especially deep, breath.

He would be cool, calm and collected.

Chongyun still did not understand everything from the previous evening. If Xingqiu had played a prank, he had played it well. Of that, Chongyun was sure. Knowing his clever friend, he might never be able to figure out what Xingqiu did at all.

It was one of the troubles of your best friend being smarter than you.

Chongyun resigned himself to that fact. Sometimes things were the way they were. He could not change the situation, but could change his approach.

So he took another breath and moved onto his feelings.

That strange one had miraculously subsided. He couldn’t help a small sigh of relief.

A new one nudged the back of his mind though. Chongyun focused in on it, and allowed it into his mind.

He felt it fully now, and he knew what it was all too well.

It was disappointment.

Aching disappointment at what felt like a betrayal.

This was why he’d been so quick to grow angry, he mused. It tugged on his heartstrings, and he knew why.

Because, it felt like Xingqiu and him had shared a precious moment, a good one. The thought that it was all part of a prank and of some silly joke, Chongyun could not deny what that thought did.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

He slowly opened his eyes back to the comfort of his room, the very one Xingqiu had been in a few hours ago.

He sighed, heart aching and heavy.

It was a painful realisation, but at least he had found his resolve. He should be able to sleep peacefully now.

He laid back down, closed his eyes, and perhaps sleep took mercy on him, because it came without any fuss.

Chapter Text

Chongyun stared out into the horizon as he sipped on some cold water. He felt a drop of sweat glide down his neck, and quickly wiped it away.

He’d gone out into the mountains to train with his claymore, and his efforts had appeared fruitful so far. The quiet environment was great for clearing the mind, while the open space allowed for intensive, unrestrained training.

It was perfect.

Chongyun let out a sigh though. The training was productive. But he was self-aware enough to know training wasn’t the only reason he moved to such a remote location.

Nevertheless, he grabbed his claymore again, and swung.

The weapon felt steady in his hands, as it always had.

He closed his eyes, moved into the breathing technique, Steady Breathing, and let the sound of his blade cutting through the air envelop him.

Heart be pure, evil be erased.

Mind be purged, world be saved.

That was his mantra.

He repeated it over and over again in his head.

A small thought managed to get through, whispering that he was doing this for a purpose, and that the purpose was to run away.

Chongyun kept going. The mantra resonated in his mind, leaving no space to think of anything else.

In the mountains, he didn’t have to think or feel. And that’s exactly what he was looking for.

Chongyun let out a small groan as he collapsed onto the grass.

His muscles ached painfully, and his breathing was unsteady. He lay there, calming down from the exercise, and looked on as the clouds passed by.

He spent a moment quietly admiring the gentle rhythm of the world. Its serenity and unwavering will were rather comforting in what could be such a turbulent world. He knew of some people who feared nature, and wanted to make it bend to their wishes. In the end, those efforts were always futile, as people cannot but be a small speck in the grand scheme that is the world.

The wind caressed Chongyun’s face, while the mountains towered over him. He definitely felt like a small speck in this moment.

It felt nice.

Nature was unyielding and steady. Definitely not like his own mind and feelings, he thought dejectedly.

“There is something bothering you,” a calm voice interrupted his musings.

Chongyun startled, and immediately reached for his claymore. But, he just as quickly recognised the figure standing before him, and scrambled to make a hasty bow instead.

“Auntie,” he hesitated. Would it be rude to call her Auntie? He mentally shook his head, recalling their positions in the family. “Auntie Shenhe,” he continued, “I didn’t notice you.”

“It’s no matter,” she hummed, before walking past him and crouching down to examine the ground. He’d left various dents and cuts in the soil in the wake of his training, and Chongyun felt unease creep in as his relative seemed to analyse his work.

Silence ensued while the winds whistled. Shenhe touched a final, especially deep cut, and rose to stand straight. “Good work,” she stated briefly, glancing his way.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Chongyun responded quickly.

Shenhe nodded. “But there is something on your mind.”

He winced lightly and averted his gaze. Shenhe observed him silently.

Chongyun stood there. His aunt had caught on quickly, too quickly for his liking. This concerned him. Had he really been too caught up with drowning out his troubles, that he had forgotten to train properly?

He could feel himself growing red. How embarrassing.

“Was I too direct?” Shenhe asked suddenly, distracting him from his shame.

She looked a little uneasy.

But he hadn’t meant it like that. Chongyun mentally reproached himself. Not only had he made his relative uncomfortable, but this could be a great opportunity to learn from his senior. Letting his embarrassment get in the way was unbecoming of him. “Not at all, Auntie,” he reassured her. He took a deep breath, “You are right. Something has been bothering me.”

Shenhe seemed to perk up slightly at that. “I am willing to help you, if you’d like,” she offered.

“Thank you very much, Auntie,” he said sincerely. She smiled a little.

“You must be tired, sit,” she nudged gently. He nodded, settling down. His aching muscles thanked him profusely.

He enjoyed the relief, but also felt a little uneasy, because he wasn’t sure how to continue.

How was he supposed to put whatever this was into words? To his respected Aunt, nonetheless?

“So,” he attempted to begin, but the words got caught in his throat. This happened to him way too often, and Chongyun already cringed at his awkwardness.

Shenhe’s piercing gaze was directed towards him, and he felt himself tense up even more.

But Chongyun saw that, somehow, her usually icy blue eyes looked rather patient.

He took a breath, and tried again.

“It has to do with a friend,” he managed to choke out quickly, before biting his tongue just as fast.

“A friend?” Shenhe inquired.

Chongyun nodded. “Yes, a friend. A close friend,” he corrected.

“What about said close friend?”

He hesitated. It felt strange saying this out loud, let alone how humiliating it was. But Chongyun had already come this far, and he was not one to leave things unfinished.

No matter how awkward they were.

“My friend pranked me,” he confessed.

Shenhe looked surprised.

His ears grew a little hot, but he bore with it, awaiting his aunt’s judgement.

Yet when Shenhe spoke, there was not even a hint of mockery, only curiosity. “How did this friend prank you?”

Chongyun cringed even more at what he was about to say, but pushed through. “That’s the thing, Auntie,” he brought out carefully, “I’m not sure.”

“You’re unsure?”

He nodded.

Shenhe stared at him in silence. “That is peculiar,” she finally noted.

Chongyun’s eyes were glued to his feet, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. But, his aunt was giving him her undoubtedly precious time to help him. He couldn’t let his shame make her efforts go to waste.

He looked into his Auntie’s eyes, and they were as patient as ever.

“Auntie, you’re not shocked by that?” Chongyun asked, surprised.

A small silence. “Not particularly, no,” came the calm response.

Chongyun did not really know what to say. Had he been overthinking this? Did people often get pranked so strangely?

A soft laugh interrupted the silence. “Don’t worry so much,” Shenhe reassured him. “I may not have lived with people for a long time, but I have seen my fair share of things.” She gave him a soft smile.

It was a lovely smile.

“Ah, thank you, Auntie,” he stammered.

His aunt’s disposition amazed him. He supposed this tranquility must have come from training with the Adepti? Chongyun was unsure, and could only wonder. Through their conversation, it seemed his respect for his aunt could only grow.

“Now tell me, what was this prank?” Shenhe asked.

Snapped back to the original, and primary, subject, Chongyun began, “Well, Auntie. We were having dinner, which is not that unusual since we often do that together.”

“He was a close friend, correct?”

“Yes,” Chongyun affirmed. “And everything was normal until… Until he pranked me.”

Chongyun felt a small, sad tug on his heart. He hugged his knees. Despite all the training, the hurt hadn’t gone away, he thought.

It was only fair. No matter how far you run, you can’t outrun the heart.

A soft breeze rustled through his hair, making it fall awkwardly on his face. He patted away at it, trying to make himself look presentable again before his relative. He caught a glimpse of his aunt’s face, and froze immediately.

Her lips were curled downwards tightly in displeasure. She radiated an icy aura, and Chongyun was not sure if it was just a feeling, but it seemed as if the air had truly gotten colder.

“He hurt you,” she stated.

“He did,” he agreed softly, a little afraid but unable to deny the truth.

The air got even colder. Chongyun was touched his aunt cared so much about him. But he knew her anger was at Xingqiu’s expense. He also knew he didn’t want his friend to get hurt.

Of course, because he would and could never wish any sort of harm on Xingqiu.

“Auntie, please calm down,” he implored quickly but calmly. Thankfully, his aunt listened and the cold dissipated.

Chongyun really wouldn’t know what to do if his Adepti-trained aunt went on a manhunt against his best friend

“How did this friend prank you?” Shenhe asked, her eyes betraying little but not nothing. She was still a little angry.

Chongyun sighed. “He made me feel weird.’

“How so?” Shenhe asked almost with a glare.

“Well, we were having dinner. And suddenly, my heart felt all weird.”

Chongyun quickly realised how easily that could be misinterpreted for murder and continued, “My heart was racing, and I didn’t know why. And even more strangely, later that evening it came back.”

In fact, he’d lost sleep because of it, he thought as irritation crept in. “It’s kind of annoying, Auntie,” he confessed. “Whenever I think about that evening, it comes back! And I don’t even know what Xingqiu did. But it just keeps on coming back and back again.”

Chongyun could feel the passion seeping into his voice, but decided he also couldn’t be bothered to care.

“It’s infuriating,” he brooded, “It makes my heart jump, and ties my stomach in knots, and it makes me smile like a fool. Did he really have to go that far? I know he loves his pranks, but really? Auntie, trust me, he’s supposed to be the older, more mature one!”

He was almost screaming at the mountains now. He would not really, of course, for respect of the Adepti and the nature around him, but it was the thought that counted.

So he continued, “And, Auntie, believe me when I say, it gets even worse. Now, it’s not just that dinner that makes me feel like that. It’s just random things!”

“Random things related to this Xingqiu?” His aunt’s voice pierced calmly through his venting.

“Yes,” he agreed, exasperated. “That prankster’s managed to get his pranks to completely mess with my mind! Why would he do that? Is he crazy or something? Yeah, he must be. Only someone absolutely crazy would do this,” he spluttered.

“We could have had a nice, calm dinner. But no, he just had to have one of his pranks.”

He rested for a moment. His tirade had tired him out, but he still added a final, “He’s completely insufferable!”, before finally catching his breath.

He didn’t usually allow himself such lavish displays of emotions, but it undeniably felt pretty darn good. He’d spoken really fast though, as he struggled for breath now. His face felt all hot too.

He was trying to recover his composure, and shot a quick glance at his aunt, to see her reaction. Hopefully, he had not been disrespectful. He looked and…

Shenhe was barely holding herself together.

Chongyun watched, appalled and horror-stricken, as she stopped trying, and the usually stoic, feared apprentice of the Adepti erupted in a fit of soft laughter. The sound reverberated pleasantly across the grass plain, chiming like little, glass bells.

It was a very nice sound, but Chongyun frowned. Was this situation really that funny?

“Sorry, Chongyun, I could not help myself,” Shenhe apologised as she tried to calm down. But it failed and she laughed for another couple minutes.

To Chongyun, it felt like much longer than that.

“Sorry,” she tried again and finally succeeded.

“It’s alright, Auntie,” Chongyun reassured unsurely, “but please,” he asked, “do tell me what’s so funny about this?” Because in the Archons’ names, he was confused. He did not dare say that last part out loud.

“I should probably tell you,” Shenhe agreed. She chuckled a little again. “It is odd that out of all the people in Teyvat, you’ll be hearing this from me.”

Chongyun frowned a little. What was that supposed to mean? “I don’t mind, Auntie,” he spoke truthfully. “Please tell me, though, because I honestly really don’t get it anymore."

Shenhe smiled. “Alright,” she acquiesced.

His aunt took a deep breath, paused, and then finally said,

“It sounds like you have a crush.”

…

…

…

What?

A crush?

Chongyun was stunned. Absolutely stumped. The only thought echoing through his mind was this one word: What?

What?

Like, what??

Him? Have a crush? What??

What is this?? Were they even talking about the same word?

Chongyun’s mouth and brain had both stopped working properly so he could only silently freak out. And freak out he did, as thought after thought came rushing in like a tidal wave.

What did she mean? Crush as in, the thing where people like like someone? As in, the thing where someone really, really, really likes someone? As in, the thing where someone wants to date another someone?

No way.

He has a crush?

On Xingqiu?

Chongyun stared at his aunt, flabbergasted, appalled, and unable to speak. He would even go as far as to say he was quite possibly bamboozled.

Him? Have a crush on Xingqiu?

He flinched and thought about it unwillingly. In his mind, it sounded so… right, so true, Chongyun realised with an icy horror, as he gulped nervously.

The puzzle pieces in his mind inevitably fell into a perfect picture one by one, and it was a beautiful, mesmerisingly soft painting of his friend, smiling in the glow of warm city light.

No, Chongyun shuddered. He knew what word to use. It was a picture of his crush.

He cringed because he understood now. And it all seemed so obvious.

He didn’t have stomachaches because he ate something wrong, he had fluttering butterflies flying within his gut because of Xingqiu’s smile.

He did not have red cheeks because he was sick, he was blushing because of Xingqiu’s clever, smooth little remarks.

His heart was not acting up because something was wrong with his constitution.

His heart was in love.

A pink blush slowly blossomed across Chongyun’s pale face.

He knew what was happening and he couldn’t possibly deny it. His heart made a few little leaps, making sure to crush any and all doubts he might have still had.

It was so obvious, it was embarrassing he hadn’t noticed sooner.

His heart jumped again.

Chongyun buried his warm face in his hands.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, wanting and begging the earth to swallow him whole. He could feel the heat dusting his cheeks, both from embarrassment and because…

Because he had a crush on Xingqiu.

Because Chongyun had a crush on Xingqiu.

“Shit,” he whispered loudly to himself.

“Tough, isn’t it?” Shenhe asked kindly.

He flinched at the reminder of his aunt’s presence. But Chongyun, quickly and thankfully, realised that she wouldn’t think ill of him for whatever-this-would-be-called. Mental breakdown? Shameful display? He didn’t know, frankly.

Chongyun met Shenhe’s eyes, and could see the empathy belying in them.

There could only be one explanation for such understanding.

“Auntie Shenhe, do you also have a crush?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” she answered steadfast. “You can ask me who it is, if you’d like to know.”

Chongyun hesitated. Should he? He did want to know. “Who is it?” he asked softly.

Shenhe looked away. “Her name is Yunjin.” A pause. “She’s a Liyue Opera singer. You have probably heard of her.”

Chongyun had indeed heard of Yunjin. He knew some peers who also had a crush on the celebrity. But while a little unsettling that his classmates had the same crush as his aunt, he didn’t pay much mind to that fact.

Because what he saw in front of him was much more interesting. He looked on in awe. His aunt’s eyes pale eyes had softened ever so slightly, and a delicately hopeful smile adorned her lips.

She looked so utterly in love.

Archons, is that what he looked like?

Chongyun desperately hoped not. After all, who would want to go around looking like a lovesick fool?

But as he gazed at his aunt, another thought started creeping in.

Shenhe was looking out towards horizon, the wind caressing her hair gently. Her eyes betrayed that she was deep in thought. Chongyun knew she was objectively pretty, but what always truly made someone shine was the expression on their face.

And the expression on Shenhe’s face in that moment was utterly, completely, beautiful, Chongyun thought.

A serene smile carved itself peacefully in stead of her usual frown, while in her eyes danced a blissful sparkle. In her faraway look, it was clear she was enjoying the reminiscence of an adored memory.

Chongyun realised he knew memories like those well. Memories of a person like that. But no matter wether he could relate or not, the picture in front of him was that of perfect, untroubled, peaceful happiness.

You could not find such inner peace easily.

He looked away, and he thought of his own little crush.

An awkward bowl-cut with a laughter he could recognise anywhere.

His heart fluttered.

He looked at his aunt again. She was so obviously happy.

Perhaps, if he’d accept it, he could be too. He put a hand on his chest, and took a deep breath. He let the smile that had been lying in wait, bloom on his own face.

And he thought that maybe, just maybe, this whole crush thing wasn’t so bad.

Chapter Text

The Chongyun on the hill had been absolutely wrong, because this crush thing actually was so bad.

After Xingqiu hadn’t been able to come along last time, the group decided to have an impromptu lunch at Wanmin. Gaming couldn’t come because of delivery work, but Hu Tao, Xiangling, Xingqiu and, of course, Chongyun were all there.

And he felt so awkward, Archons, it really wasn’t funny anymore.

He glimpsed at Xingqiu, who, as usual, was seated next to him.

Thankfully, his friend hadn’t noticed anything strange. He was chatting and laughing as if everything was normal, as if the world hadn’t been turned upside down on its own head.

Which realistically, Chongyun knew hadn’t happened. But he sure felt like it did.

Still, he tried to act normal.

“How could I have known you weren’t supposed to eat it?”

“Most people don’t try to eat something the second they see it, Xiangling,” Xingqiu remarked.

“But it looked so good!” Xiangling complained while stabbing a piece of meat with her chopsticks.

“Don’t you know, dear friend?” Hu Tao interjected. “You have to be patient and careful. Yes, the early bird gets the worm, but curiosity also killed the cat!” She declared loudly.

She slammed her fist on the table, and Chongyun flinched at the noise, dropping the noodles he’d been holding. Some of it fell awkwardly to the side of his bowl.

He cringed at this sad display.

A small laugh from his side told him Xingqiu had seen. Before Chongyun had processed what happened and died of embarrassment though, another pair of chopsticks was already putting the noodles neatly back in his bowl.

“Look what you did, Hu Tao, scaring my dear friend half to death,” Xingqiu reproached her, all while still helping a dazed Chongyun.

Chongyun wasn’t dazed because of the noise.

No, it wasn’t that. He was used to his friends making a racket.

The thing was, Xingqiu was much too close. This was the thing his brain was busy processing.

He was so close, Chongyun could almost count the strands of dark blue hair in front of his face. They looked soft, and he knew this was because of Xingqiu taking hours to find the right shampoo, despite cutting his hair himself rather than going to a barber. It was such a Xingqiu thing to do.

Xingqiu pulled back before Chongyun could do something stupid, like touch the other’s hair. Thank the gods for that, Chongyun thought.

All the noodles were back in their place and Xingqiu nodded approvingly before finishing his sentence, “And with an incomplete saying at that.”

“Oh, what do you mean, Master Xingqiu?” Hu Tao perked up and asked.

Chongyun still didn’t know if he should say something, so he simply looked at Xingqiu. Chongyun could be a good observer, he told himself.

Xingqiu took a long sip of tea to hide his face. He managed to turn it into a collected smile before putting down his cup and continuing, “Many know curiosity killed the cat. It is common knowledge. But did you also know,” and he paused for extra effect, “that satisfaction is what brought it back?”

Xingqiu grinned proudly.

Chongyun’s heart did its thing once again.

Hu Tao and Xiangling gasped, and Chongyun knew this was exactly the reaction Xingqiu had been fishing for. And indeed, Xingqiu was barely holding himself together.

“Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back? That makes so much sense!” Xiangling blurted out. “Thanks Xingqiu! It really is always you with the random facts.”

“Indeed, you were dearly missed in your absence” Hu Tao agreed whole-heartedly while clapping the boy harshly on his back.

Xingqiu simply smiled, accepting the praise gracefully. He looked pleased with himself, and seemed absolutely delighted by his friend’s cheers and compliments.

Chongyun looked away and gulped uneasily. He scooped up some food.

“You really do know a lot,” Chongyun added while he quickly swallowed the noodles Xingqiu had picked up for him. His friend turned to him and Chongyun forced his eyes to move away from his food to meet his gaze.

“Thanks, Chongyun,” Xingqiu said, and winked.

Damn.

Chongyun froze for the second time this afternoon, not knowing what to say. Archons, first that thing with the noodles and now this. If he wasn’t so nervous, he could’ve laughed at the absurdity.

This was way too much for him, but there was no time to sulk. What would normal people say in a situation like this? He realised he really didn’t know.

Chongyun scrambled for something to say but, thankfully, a shrill voice interrupted his panic, screaming, “Wait, so then it’s good to be early and to be curious!” Xiangling turned to and glared aggressively at Hu Tao. The other girl put her hands in the air in surrender.

“Perchance,” Hu Tao admitted readily. But, her face slowly peaked out from behind her upheld hands, saying, “But still, who would eat a plant they’ve never seen or heard of before?”

“I did!”

“Sounds like Xiangling will soon become a dear customer of the funeral parlour then!”

Xiangling gasped, Xingqiu broke eye contact and looked to see what was happening, and everything was back to normal.

Maybe things had never even been abnormal in the first place.

Chongyun felt his body relax.

Another minute passed. Nothing happened. He went back to eating.

Everything was still normal, he told himself. Everything was fine.

Things hadn’t changed.

That’s what he told himself.

But it was getting hard to ignore the pulsing of his heart.

“Well I’m off to save some poor souls!” Hu Tao waved a cheery goodbye to the group as she hopped away.

Xiangling waved back enthusiastically, before turning to Chongyun and Xingqiu, and proclaiming, “This was so much fun!”

“Despite the teasing?” Chongyun asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Xiangling giggled. “Of course, silly,” she said with a grin, “I’ll just get you guys back tenfold next time! Gonna go help my dad prepare for the dinner rush now though! Bye!” Xiangling scurried off in a hurry, leaving Chongyun and Xingqiu alone.

Alone. By themself. Just the two of them.

That was a recipe for disaster.

Chongyun quickly cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll get going as well,” he mumbled out.

“Really now?” Xingqiu asked skeptically. Chongyun flinched but carefully looked up to meet his gaze.

Of course, despite his best efforts to act normal, Xingqiu would have noticed something was off.

Xingqiu was clearly unimpressed, amber eyes squinting and calculating. It’s the same look he gave Chongyun when Chongyun had finally told him about the Dragonspine incident.

Looking back, he too wondered what possessed him to stay in an ice-cold lake for hours. The fever he got from that had worried Xingqiu endlessly, and he still felt a little bad about scaring his friend.

But in Chongyun’s opinion, this time the unimpressed-Xingqiu-face was not fair. Xingqiu wasn’t the one absolutely dying inside every time their hands accidentally touched after all.

Chongyun can’t tell him that though. So he stayed silent and stared back. Patience and silence can be great virtues sometimes.

Xingqiu’s eyes kept squinting and squinting, to the point they got so small Chongyun wasn’t sure he could even see anything at all. Xingqiu seemingly relaxed.

He then heaved a heavy sigh.

He ran his hand through his messy bangs and moved to look at the ground.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” He asked softly, eyes still glued to the floor.

Chongyun immediately cringed. He mentally slapped himself harshly across the face.

It hurt, he thought. Good, another part of him answered.

Because Chongyun, of course, hadn’t meant to make Xingqiu feel bad.

Yet the truth behind all this would still be too revealing, even to his best friend. No, Chongyun thought. Especially to his best friend.

So, “It’s… complicated,” was all he could bring himself to say.

Xingqiu hummed. His eyer were downcast and still not facing him.

“Do you know what you looked like today when I talked to you?” Xingqiu asked. His voice revealed nothing.

“No,” but Chongyun knew it could not be anything good. He now also knew he had made a mistake, and braced himself for its backlash.

“You looked like a deer, caught in a trap but too scared to even run away.” Xingqiu’s voice was still monotone. But it quivered a little, like a fragile leaf shivering in the autumn wind, as he said, “You looked terrified of me.”

Chongyun knew he’d made a big mistake.

Something inside him tugged at his heart. A jarring pang of guilt made him flinch, while dozens of sirens went off at once, blaring at him to get himself together and fix this.

Xingqiu was sad and it was because of him. Chongyun clenched his jaw.

He had to fix this.

“It’s not your fault. It’s nothing to be worried about, Xingqiu,” he quickly added, trying to comfort his friend.

“So, something is up.”

…

“Yeah.” Chongyun couldn’t lie and Xingqiu was much too perceptive.

Xingqiu looked up, but hesitated. He opened his mouth, paused for a second, then finally spoke up, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? For what?” Chongyun asked, taken aback now.

“For prodding, you don’t have to tell me everything, after all,” Xingqiu explained.

This was true, Chongyun thought. While Xingqiu and him were best friends, they never expected the other to share more than they were ready to.

In all their years of friendship, Xingqiu has never once made him feel as if Chongyun owed him anything. And that anything included sharing his thoughts.

This unspoken agreement of acceptance was one of the things that Chongyun liked so much about Xingqiu.

It was one of the things that made him feel understood.

It was one of the things he loved.

But that didn’t make this right.

“No,” Chongyun answered decisively.

“No?” Xinqiu asked. Chongyun looked at him. He was confused, frowning in that way he did whenever he didn’t understand something.

Or when he was ordering food, Chongyun's brain added unhelpfully.

“No,” Chongyun repeated, focusing back on the moment. “I’m the one that is and should be sorry.”

He took a deep breath.

Words had often failed him, but they could not now. He wouldn’t let them.

“I want to tell you what’s going on, but I can’t,” he began. Xingqiu opened his mouth, but Chongyun pushed on, before he got too scared to do it.

“I can’t because I’m not sure myself. It’s something new, something I don’t understand.”

Chongyun peeked at his friend.

Xingqiu looked confused.

For some reason, this made Chongyun laugh. It was a sharp, rough sound, quite unlike him. Which confused Xingqiu even more.

“Sorry, it’s just that’s how I felt when I first learned about it,” Chongyun said with a last chuckle.

“Very confused?” Xingqiu asked. He tilted his head, but the frown was gone.

“Yeah.” Chongyun smiled at his friend. Xingqiu smiled back hesitantly. Of course, it was still a mesmerising smile that struck Chongyun with awe.

“So nothing bad happened?”

Chongyun had to clear his throat to find his voice again. “Nothing bad happened.”

He looked at Xingqiu who seemed relieved. He’d looked so sad a few moments ago, and this was definitely a much better sight.

“And I’m sorry,” Chongyun added.

Xingqiu’s eyebrows quirked up.

“I’m sorry, Xingqiu, for not telling you what was happening.”

His friend paused, looking for what to say. This took a while, but Chongyun did not mind.

Just like now, Xingqiu always thought through the things he said, and Chongyun always waited for him. Any wait was worth a glimpse into Xingqiu’s mind.

“Well,” Xingqiu began, “I also may have looked too much into it and overreacted.”

There was only one appropriate reaction to that. Chongyun punched him in the shoulder. Harshly.

Xingqiu cried out in pain and glared at Chongyun, surprised.

“You did not,” Chongyun asserted loudly, as if to tell the entire world, which threw Xingqiu off.

It threw Chongyun off too, but he ignored it.

A few heads turned on the busy street of Liyue to see what the commotion was.

What happened next would haunt Chongyun for weeks, but something must have made him especially bold that afternoon.

Maybe something like the fast beating of his heart.

Before he could think it through, Chongyun moved and clutched Xingqiu by both his shoulders. He swiftly pulled him towards his chest so they were face-to-face and their eyes had to meet.

Their foreheads were just barely not touching. They were closer than they’d ever been before.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Chongyun stated. He held Xingqiu, and said, “You didn’t overreact, you weren’t being overly sensitive. I was in the wrong. I didn’t understand and I inadvertently hurt you because of my own stupidness.”

Xingqiu’s eyes widened and his jaw hung open slightly. It was one of the rare moments he was baffled.

Chongyun kept going.

He really was feeling bold today.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep this from you. I should have let you know something was up. I’m sorry, Xingqiu. I messed up. Will you forgive me?”

“What? Of—,” Xingqiu stammered, “Of course I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” Chongyun smiled warmly.

That went absolutely great.

Chongyun was incredibly pleased with himself. He’d righted what was wrong, apologised, and Xingqiu had forgiven him.

Plus, he could now see how Xingqiu’s amber eyes prettily reflected the afternoon sky. His friend truly was handsome, his eyes shining with the warm colour of honey.

He could admire Xingqiu forever it seemed, and never get tired of it.

His nose was curved like a crescent moon, almost as beautiful as his lips. Not completely though, because Xingqiu’s lips always seemed to retain their perfect shade of light pink, resembling a piece of pale rose quartz.

He almost dared to wonder what it would be like to touch, or even kiss them. Almost.

Xingqiu’s skin also seemed to shine, and Chongyun knew it would be soft if he touched it. Right now, it was a little pink, almost as if Xingqiu was blushing.

Chongyun hummed and wondered what could be making Xingqiu blush.

“Uhm, Chongyun?” A small voice, asked.

Chongyun felt the warm breath brush past his cheek.

He blinked.

That voice belonged to Xingqiu.

That air he felt also belonged to Xingqiu.

He looked down.

It appeared Chongyun’s hands were still clutched around his friend’s shoulders, and their faces were still very, very close.

“How long has it been?” Chongyun asked. It was barely more than a whisper.

He did not want to know the answer.

“A little while?” Xingqiu hesitated.

Chongyun nodded gravely and looked around them. People in the street were staring openly.

In Liyue, that was a bad sign.

Chongyun’s face was frozen solid. He absolutely refused to acknowledge what had happened. If he did, he would die. He realised he did not want to die.

“Chongyun, I think you can let go now.”

Chongyun let go. His mind still only drew out thoughts of blank nothingness.

And maybe he could have lived in denial forever. Until what seemed to be a child’s voice called out, “Daddy, why didn’t they kiss?”

Xingqiu stumbled back and choked on his own saliva.

While Xingqiu had a fit of coughing, Chongyun sunk to his knees.

He knew his face and ears were bright red. He could even feel the heat rush off of them in waves. The father shushed his child, telling him it was rude. To Chongyun, the father’s politeness only made things worse.

He covered his burning face with his hands in what was a pitiful attempt to hide himself from the world and from what he’d done.

Xingqiu would later call it “a very Chongyun thing to do.”

Chongyun cursed his stupid yang energy.

Chapter Text

Chongyun fiddled with his thumbs. He changed his mind and ran a hand through his hair instead.

The hair gel he’d used felt cool and rough against the palm of his hand.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have gone overboard. He looked out of place among the loyal Wanmin customers, all dressed comfortably for the hot Liyue summer weather.

He felt people staring at him. Chongyun winced at the attention.

But after that stunt he’d pulled months ago, this had to be perfect. And if anything, he told himself to trust his aunt.

She had helped him pick out his outfit, and she had found him a tightly fitting black crop top embroidered with an icy blue phoenix along with some baggy pants.

Shenhe had said he looked “Very dashing indeed,” but Chongyun had been too embarrassed to go out dressed the way he was.

They squabbled quite a bit, but only to the extent Chongyun dared to contradict his aunt. He stood his ground though, and in the end, they added a white puffy jacket that matched his pants.

Shenhe then styled his hair for him. She was surprisingly skilled at it too, and so Chongyun was sitting in the restaurant, hair gelled back and apparently the centre of the Wanmin’s customers attention.

Someone whispered “the young ones who almost kissed a couple months ago, remember?”

Chongyun cringed at that. Apparently Liyue’s gossip mill worked slower than he expected.

But they weren’t wrong.

He was here for the boy he’d almost kissed a couple months ago.

And the boy walked in right that instant.

Xingqiu was out of breath, Chongyun noted, and a little sweaty.

“Sorry,” he huffed out, “I was out practicing my martial arts when I got your message.” Xingqiu sat down and wiped his forehead and neck with a tissue.

“It’s no problem,” Chongyun replied.

Xingqiu smiled. Chongyun smiled back.

And then neither said anything.

For an uncomfortably long time.

Which was number 16 on the list of Chongyun’s worst-case scenarios, so he was not off to a great start.

Xingqiu seemed uneasy as well, his eyes darting around, nervous for something to look at.

Chongyun cleared his throat to break the silence.

“So, shall we order?” He asked.

Xingqiu looked up, startled.

“Uh, yeah, sure!”

So, they started ordering.

They looked at their menus.

And kept looking at their menus.

And when they’d been staring for a solid 10 minutes, Chongyun realised they’d hit number 52 on his list of worst-case scenarios.

He shuddered at how badly things were going. What was the point of looking good if he couldn’t get a single word out?

He slowly peeked up at Xingqiu.

And Xingqiu was in a much worse shape than he was. His cheeks were dusted with red, and cold sweat made his hair stick to his face.

He looked so nervous. Chongyun had never seen him this disheveled.

His hands trembled lightly. His eyes were unfocused, obviously not looking at the menu.

His eyes weren’t looking at the menu?

Oh, of course, Chongyun thought.

“Your eyes aren’t looking at the menu, are they?” Chongyun whispered.

Chongyun felt stupid. This was Xingqiu he was talking to. And he wasn’t looking at the menu.

“What?” Xingqiu peeped. His usual warm voice was now comically high pitched.

“You’re not looking at the menu,” Chongyun stated again.

Xingqiu nodded hesitantly.

He knew it was inappropriate, and maybe a little bit crazy, but Chongyun burst out laughing.

He laughed, hard.

Xingqiu flushed bright red. “Why are you laughing?!” He stammered helplessly as Chongyun kept giggling like a maniac.

Chongyun saw panic start to creep into Xingqiu’s eyes and immediately composed himself. He let out a last chuckle and said,

“I’m laughing because I love you.”

A pause.

And then though it seemed impossible, Xingqiu blushed even harder. Chongyun could laugh at how endearing it was.

“And I laughed because you weren't looking at the menu.”

Xingqiu seemed confused. He frowned.

And Chongyun knew right away that this was the moment.

He really didn't have to be that nervous.

After the confusion, hurt, embarrassment but most importantly, happiness he’d felt the past months, this would be his, and their, moment.

It was silly he’d almost let his nerves take that away.

Chongyun took a deep breath, and gently took Xingqiu’s hand.

He still felt anxiety jittering in his stomach. But he was going to be brave, for Xingqiu.

“I love you, Xingqiu,” he started. It felt so easy to say, so Chongyun’s smile broadened as he continued and confessed, “I was confused and afraid at first. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought you pranked me. But with some help, I realised,” and he had to pause. He looked in Xingqiu’s amber eyes and maybe he got a little scared again because he whispered the last part, “I realised I had a crush on you.”

Xingqiu let out a little gasp.

It was absolutely adorable. Chongyun felt himself light up and continued loudly and clearly, “I love you, Xingqiu. I love the way you are and I love the little things about you. Like how you always focus so much on the menu when ordering,” Chongyun smirked.

Yet today, Xingqiu hadn’t been looking at the menu. He hadn’t been because today wasn’t like always.

It was even more special than that.

And they both knew it.

Xingqiu rolled his eyes. But they looked fond, and Xingiqu smiled.

That smile still made Chongyun’s heart race.

“I still don’t really get it,” Chongyun confessed, “but I do get this.”

He closed his eyes,

“I don’t understand, but I love,” Chongyun opened his eyes to see Xingqiu’s bright eyes looking at him and only him.

He didn’t have to be brave to continue his sentence.

He didn’t have to be brave, because it was the truth.

“But I love you.”

“I love you too, Chongyun.”

They smiled.

He’d never been happier than this. But he knew he probably would be in the future.

There was surprisingly no clapping. No applause, no cheering from the restaurant.

Only the normal background chatter that always took place at Wanmin.

The other customers did not seem to notice them now in the slightest.

And that only made this better.

Chongyun smiled more brightly than he thought was possible. Xingqiu beamed back just as hard.

It only made this better, because this was their moment, and nobody else’s.

Chapter Text

Chongyun was happy everything had not gone to plan, but worked out in the end.

He was merrily making his way over to Xingqiu’s house. Distracted by thoughts of seeing his boyfriend, Chongyun accidentally bumped into an old lady.

Small boxes scattered everywhere and he apologised profusely when picking them up.

“No worries, child,” the granny reassured him. Her voice was a little raspy but had such a calm tone to it, Chongyun immediately stopped worrying.

She had the voice of a great story teller, and of a kind soul. Chongyun looked at the boxes, and they seemed to be gifts for her grandchildren.

“I really am sorry, Ma’am,” he apologised again.

“No need, no need. Have fun with your boyfriend!” And off she tottered.

Chongyun’s brain short-circuited.

Xingqiu laughed into his shoulder.

“It’s not that funny,” Chongyun groaned helplessly. They were standing in Xingqiu’s room, doing what Chongyun had quickly found to be one of his favourite things: hugging.

But apparently, while the restaurant’s customers’ didn’t do anything at the time, they had been listening.

And now Xingqiu and Chongyun were one of Liyue’s favorite topics to discuss during tea. Again.

Chongyun hoped the gossip mill would work a little bit faster this time.

“Sorry, YunYun, but it honestly is,” Xingqiu giggled.

Chongyun's heart thumped at the nickname. He looked at his boyfriend and hummed.

“If you think it’s funny, I guess that’s fine,” he finally sighed.

Xingqiu agreed but then smirked. He had a dangerous glint in his eyes. Chongyun flinched unwillingly.

“You don’t like that they’re talking so much about how you confessed, right?” Xingqiu asked.

“Yeah?” Chongyun admitted, but he was scared stiff of Xingqiu’s devilish smile.

Xingqiu leaned forward, and whispered softly and slowly,

“Guess I’ll need to do something even more outrageous then.”

Chongyun flushed red.