Work Text:
“Hu Tao,” Ganyu sighed, swiveling around in her seat. “Don’t you have work to be doing?” Ganyu wasn’t exactly a snitch, but the company wasn’t paying them to sit around and chat about… whatever it was that Hu Tao was going on about.
“C’mon, Ganyu,” Hu Tao said, arms folded and leaning onto her desk, way into Ganyu’s personal space. “Just answer the question!”
Ganyu sighed. If it got her to leave her alone. “Mind repeating it?” she drawled, reaching into her drawer to grab a file she’d received this morning. “I must have missed it the first time.”
“Okay, okay, so,” Hu Tao said, happy to finally have Ganyu’s attention, “I have a friend, and she went out with a friend the other day to watch a movie. But now that other person is going around telling their mutual friends they went on a date! And my friend didn’t even know! So what do you think, Miss Ganyu?” Hu Tao finished, leaning in with an imaginary microphone. “Do you think it was a date?”
She interrupted her work for this? Ganyu propped her chin on one palm as she flipped open the manila folder with the other hand, looking through its contents. These would need to be dropped off soon. “I think we’re lacking some important context,” she said. “Do they like your friend? If they were calling it a date.”
“Probably.”
“Does your friend like them?”
“Irrelevant.”
“What—” Ganyu’s head shot up. “What do you mean, irrelevant?”
“I’m just saying,” Hu Tao began, shrugging. “You can go on dates with people you don’t like, too.”
“You’re not… wrong,” Ganyu said, frowning. She suddenly recalled the last date she had been on. That girl had been a bit of a mouth breather. She went home and deleted Tinder right after that. “So your friend really didn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“And all they did was see a movie together.”
“Yep, it was that romcom with Ayaka in it.”
“Ah,” Ganyu said. “Your friend was invited to a romcom. She should have figured it out from there.”
“Are you sure about that?” Hu Tao asked. “Is that your final answer?”
Was this an exam? Ganyu sighed. She suddenly imagined herself in the same position. How would she feel if someone she didn’t like in that way asked her out on a date without telling her it was one?
She frowned. That would be pretty troublesome.
“My final answer…” Ganyu said. “Is probably, both parties would need to verbally acknowledge it first.”
Hu Tao clapped several times in applause. “Well said, Miss Ganyu! In another life, you would have made a wonderful lawyer.” There was a loud buzz, and she glanced down at her smart watch. “Ah crap, the old fossil—”
“—Mr. Zhongli—”
“Needs me to sign off on a few things. See you!”
Hu Tao scurried away. With the way she acted around the office, you wouldn’t even imagine she had her own subordinates. Ganyu rubbed her temples and turned back to her work.
It was nearing the end of the day when Ganyu remembered the file in her drawer. Shoot. She should have handed it off hours earlier, but Hu Tao had successfully distracted her from her work.
Ganyu shut down her computer and gathered her things, grabbing the folder on the way out of her cubicle. She headed down the hallway and to a door that had been left ajar and peered inside. Its sole occupant appeared to be on the phone.
“So you just assumed it was a no? Did you even properly talk to them?” Keqing asked, voice low and dangerous. It must have been the problematic vendor from earlier. “Get back on the phone with them and ask.” She hung up with a short huff, staring down at her phone.
Ganyu knocked on the doorframe.
Keqing’s head snapped up. “Oh. Hello, Ganyu,” she said, anger dissipating as if she had never been on the phone. “Come in.” Her tone was noticeably lighter. For all of her valid criticisms, Ganyu didn’t understand her coworkers who complained of Keqing’s misplaced anger. Ganyu had never been on the receiving end of frustration meant for another.
But maybe she would earn Keqing’s ire now. She crossed the threshold, holding out the file. “I’m sorry to spring this on you at the last minute, but here’s the report you requested yesterday.”
Keqing straightened up in her seat as Ganyu approached her desk. “Oh! Thank you, Ganyu. No worries, I planned on going over it tomorrow anyways.” She took the report from Ganyu, placing it into a drawer.
“I’m glad,” Ganyu said, nodding. Crisis mercifully averted. “Well then, I’d better get out of your way. Have a nice night, Keqing.”
She was two steps from the door when Keqing suddenly stood up. “Ah, Ganyu.”
Ganyu turned around to see Keqing with both arms hanging down at her sides, looking uncertain. “Yes?”
“Did you have any plans this evening?”
Ganyu paused. Was Keqing going to ask her to do overtime? Well, it wasn’t like she minded. She’d regularly done overtime—until Keqing came on board and streamlined their process in such a way they rarely had to do it nowadays. She’d been mildly resistant at first, believing Keqing intended to eventually phase out her position, but it never happened. It took her a while to accept that Keqing was actually capable of having good intentions.
Come to think of it, that was probably when she finally stopped hating her boss.
“I don’t,” Ganyu answered honestly. “Did you need me to help you with anything?”
“Ah, it’s nothing like that,” Keqing said, waving a hand. “I just wanted to know if you… would maybe want to grab dinner. Or something.”
Ganyu stared at Keqing like she’d grown two heads. She and Keqing had never hung out outside of work. Well, if you didn’t count their company’s offsite New Year’s party, where Keqing had shown up in that tiny little dress that showed more skin than she’d ever shown at the office—
“You don’t have to feel pressured,” Keqing blurted out. “It was just an idea.”
“Oh, no,” Ganyu said, shaking herself out of her train of thought. “I’d love to. Did you have a place in mind?” She’d probably have to scan their menu ahead of time.
Keqing visibly brightened up—cute. “You’re vegetarian, right?”
“Yes,” Ganyu said, relieved Keqing remembered and brought it up first.
“Is it just meat you can’t eat? Any allergies?”
“Just meat,” Ganyu confirmed. Well, she avoided cooked eggs too, but that had less to do with her diet and more to do with an innate disgust she’d apparently been born with. She probably got it from her mother.
“Okay,” Keqing said, whipping out her phone. “I’m going to make a quick call. I’ll meet you in the lobby?”
Ganyu nodded in the affirmative and headed down. A few minutes later, Keqing appeared with her things, offering to drive to the restaurant and drop Ganyu off at her car afterward. “That way, we’ll only have to find one parking spot,” she explained. It must have been a busy place.
“They’re known for their vegetarian menu,” Keqing said as they pulled up to the restaurant. Ganyu squinted. There appeared to be a line going out the door. She didn’t mind waiting, but it was a typical December evening—damp and chilly. The cold didn’t particularly bother her, but she knew Keqing was sensitive to it—she’d once caught Keqing wearing a blanket in her office when she thought everyone else had left for the day. It had been unexpected and kind of endearing, and Ganyu pretended not to notice it when she saw it again in Keqing’s drawer earlier that day.
Well, if worse came to worst, she could always offer her jacket. She followed Keqing inside to put their name in and watched as she mentioned something to the host. His relaxed demeanor changed slightly, and he grabbed two menus before ushering them to a table that had been conveniently cleared in the back of the room.
Ganyu wasn’t born yesterday. She saw how the waiter had suddenly become self-conscious. She’d hung around Ningguang for long enough to know Keqing had called in a favor. But the polite thing to do was overlook it and ask no questions. Besides, she thought as she picked up the menu. It was probably worth it. The menu was geared towards small plates, with all sorts of fusion cuisine. Everything looked delicious.
They chatted a bit about what to order, going through the menu like it was another one of their projects. To be honest, it all looked very good. Within the realm of vegetarianism, Ganyu wasn’t a particularly picky eater.
“What would you like?” Keqing asked, setting her menu down to look at Ganyu.
“I think…” Ganyu paused. “The soy curls,” she said, picking a dish at random.
“Alright,” Keqing said, immediately nodding at a passing waiter. “She will have the soy curls, and—” Keqing glanced at Ganyu.
“Water is fine,” she said, raising her filled glass.
“One of everything for the table,” Keqing finished, ignoring her own menu. The waiter nodded and left to go put in their order.
Ganyu blinked. For all of her wealth, Keqing wasn’t really the type to intentionally flaunt her money for others. She must have been especially hungry.
“Everything looked good, so I wanted to decide what I liked most,” Keqing explained, answering Ganyu’s unspoken question. “That way, I’ll know what I want next time I come here.”
“This is your first time here?” Ganyu was surprised. Hadn’t she called in a favor? Surely, she must have known who owned the establishment.
“That’s right,” Keqing said. “I’ve always wanted to come here, but I never had the chance.”
Ganyu nodded. “It’s a good thing your evening happened to free up, then.” It looked like Keqing’s work-life balance initiative was working as intended for everyone, even Keqing herself.
Wait, Ganyu thought. Then that meant this wasn’t a work-related outing, right? Keqing was indulging in an interest outside of work, and just happened to invite Ganyu along. They may have been secretary and superior, but right now, were they just…
Ganyu internally shook herself. That was an odd thought. She probably shouldn’t go there.
Keqing gave a small smile in response, as though there wasn’t much to explain. “How about you? You’ve been able to go home on time?”
Maybe a year ago, Ganyu would have interpreted this as a thinly-veiled insult from Keqing, challenging Ganyu’s effectiveness within the company. But now, Ganyu knew Keqing genuinely did care about the wellbeing of the employees.
“I… have,” she admitted. “It’s nice. I suddenly have more free time to do things between work.”
“Oh? Like what?” Keqing asked.
Ganyu wasn’t really sure if Keqing was actually curious or just being polite. Small talk was famously not her thing. But why else would she invite her out?
“Well… napping,” Ganyu said carefully, choosing her words so as to not bore Keqing. “On free days, I used to go to the movies, but I stopped when I realized I’d just end up falling asleep ten minutes in.”
Keqing actually chuckled. “And that didn’t bother whoever you went with?”
Ganyu shook her head. “I always went alone. If I invited anyone out, I’m sure they would have been annoyed with me.” She had strategically invited her last date out for coffee, which at least ensured she’d be awake for it.
“Well, I would have said it was rest well-deserved,” Keqing said seriously.
Ganyu briefly imagined it for a moment: the familiar feeling of stirring awake during the credits. But this time, it wouldn’t be chatter from exiting moviegoers that would wake her up. She’d be gently shaken awake by the shoulder, and turn to see Keqing with that small yet kind smile, more fond than annoyed.
Heat traveled up the back of Ganyu’s neck. Why would she imagine that? What was wrong with her? Thankfully, before she could muster up an appropriate response, the waiter came back with a large tray of their food.
“Which one is the soy curls?” Keqing asked, eyeing the numerous little plates on the table.
“This one, I think,” Ganyu said, reaching for a plate near the center.
“Please, help yourself to everything else too,” Keqing said as she loaded up her own plate.
Ganyu’s head shot up, about to politely decline, when she noticed it. Ooh, deep-fried mushrooms. She wasn’t strong enough to pass them up. After she’d picked a few pieces of everything, she popped a soy curl into her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction.
“How are the soy curls?” Keqing asked in between bites of food. “Are they to your liking?”
“They’re very good. Try some,” Ganyu said, pushing the plate towards Keqing.
Keqing grabbed a piece and popped it into her mouth. Ganyu watched as she chewed tentatively before her eyes lit up.
“Oh!” she said, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “These are good. It’s almost like… chicken tenders? But without being greasy.”
Ganyu’s smile widened. “Do you like chicken tenders then?” she asked, pushing the plate even closer to Keqing.
“I think I might like these more,” she said with almost childlike wonder.
The warmth returned, but this time it settled in Ganyu’s chest. “It’s all yours, then,” she said with amusement, turning her attention to the other dishes.
It was actually pretty… nice, being able to share some of her favorite dishes with someone else. Ganyu rarely ate out, as she wasn’t particularly social. And when she did, it was usually with Beidou at their favorite bar, where they’d split a pitcher of beer and a basket of garlic fries—not exactly a complete meal.
“Do you have a favorite food?” Ganyu asked, even though she already knew the answer. Anyone with eyes would have noticed it by observing Keqing during lunch hour or on food truck Fridays.
Keqing looked sheepish. “Shrimp. But the golden shrimp balls are my favorite.”
Ganyu recalled that the corner restaurant on her usual route to work served them. “I’m sure they’re very good.”
“What about you?” Keqing asked. She looked genuinely interested.
“Well, as long as it’s something I can eat, I’m not very picky,” Ganyu said. “Besides eggs. And spicy food.”
Keqing nodded as if Ganyu had given her a very important debriefing. “I see. What about sweets?”
“Well…” Ganyu paused. “Anything is good.”
“Perfect!” Keqing said, waving over a waiter who had not so conspicuously been on standby. “Then let’s get dessert.”
They split a plate of red bean buns as they continued to chat about food, which led to hobbies (Ganyu learned Keqing was something of a rock collector), then shows they were currently watching.
It wasn’t until the check came that Ganyu realized Keqing had never once brought up work.
Ganyu tried not to visibly sulk as they left the restaurant. Keqing, the winner of their fight for the check, triumphantly tucked her credit card back into her wallet. “It’s really the least I could do,” she said. “Thank you for spending your evening with me.”
Ganyu’s face warmed despite the cold winter air. “Thank you for inviting me,” she said quietly. She really did have a good time. Maybe it was a good thing she’d forgotten to submit her report earlier. Maybe she’d have to thank Hu Tao for distracting her.
At the thought of Hu Tao, Ganyu suddenly remembered their conversation. She nearly tripped over her own feet when she realized it:
Was this… a date?
Ganyu’s first thought was no, no it couldn’t be. They had just gone out to a meal like normal coworkers. Except it was dinner and not lunch. Evening and not noon. Off the clock and not just during overtime.
Were they even normal coworkers to begin with? Since the day Keqing came to the office, there had always been something hanging in the air between them. First it was mutual disagreement, which became resigned indifference when they realized the other wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But sometime after Keqing reached out for Ganyu’s opinion and not just her assistance, that tension had transformed into something else entirely. Ganyu had no clear name for it, so she chose to ignore it instead.
Was it that? Keqing invited her out, called in a favor just so Ganyu could eat comfortably, paid for her meal…
Ganyu suddenly felt hyper-aware of the entire evening and her actions during it. She replayed the sequence of events to herself as they made their way to Keqing’s car. Once inside, the overwhelming scent of freshly detailed leather and Keqing in close proximity did nothing to clear her head.
By Ganyu’s original definition, this was certainly a date. But by her revised answer… She should just probably ask. Shouldn’t she? At work, Ganyu had no issue asking Keqing clarifying questions whenever she was given an important task. She should do that before she made any mistakes. She didn’t want to misinterpret her.
The drive back to the company’s parking garage was agony for Ganyu as she tried to work up the nerve to speak. Keqing’s McLaren pulled into the space across the aisle from Ganyu’s own car, her modest little Honda.
Ganyu’s hand moved to unbuckle her seat belt and stopped there. “Keqing,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?”
Keqing peered over at Ganyu. She didn’t look nervous at all, just curious. “Sure.”
“Was this…” Ganyu took a small breath. “Was this a date?”
There was silence. Ganyu kept her eyes trained on her undone seat belt buckle. When Keqing didn’t respond right away, Ganyu summoned all her courage to turn in her seat.
Keqing’s entire face was red. “Um… I…” She drew both hands from the wheel and into her lap. She exhaled. Ganyu held her breath. “I’m sorry,” Keqing said. “I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”
Ganyu’s heart dropped into her stomach.
“I just… wanted to spend time with you?” Keqing said it like it was a question, tinged with an edge of panic. “I… I didn’t realize. I’m sorry if I came off a certain way.”
There was a faint buzzing in Ganyu’s ears. She swallowed the lump building in her throat. “I see,” she said, voice tight and ears burning. “Thank you for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.” In one fluid motion, she gathered her things and opened the passenger door, trying hard not to clamber out like she’d rather walk into traffic.
Keqing was considerate until the end. She never asked Ganyu what had led her to ask that question, and waited until Ganyu was safely inside her car before driving off.
Ganyu let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel. That’s all it was—consideration. Keqing was a considerate person by nature. It had nothing to do with Ganyu.
Maybe she was born yesterday. How had she completely misread Keqing’s intentions? It was entirely possible she was just trying to make peace with Ganyu after several years of indifference.
And besides, Keqing was probably used to treating her friends to fancy dinners. It wasn’t like she was a loner—Beidou, for some reason, had once shown Ganyu Keqing’s Instagram account. It was easy to see she had her own friends outside of work to hang out with. How could Ganyu have made such a reach?
As Ganyu climbed into bed and prepared for a restless night, she found herself regretting the entire evening—no, the entire day. She wished she had shooed Hu Tao away from her office. She wished her random question hadn’t gotten into her head. She wished she had remembered the file earlier.
But the more Ganyu thought about her wishes, the more she realized they were just lies to defend her pride. In truth, she really only had one wish: She wished Keqing had said yes.
‘So you just assumed it was a no? Did you even properly talk to them?’
Keqing’s angry words suddenly popped into Ganyu’s head, shaking her out of her self-pity. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Well… she hadn’t rejected her. Explicitly, anyway. She thought back to Keqing’s reputation at the office. For better or for worse, wasn’t she known for her straightforwardness? Why hadn’t she rejected her more bluntly?
The obvious solution to her problem rolled to the front of her mind. No, she thought, covering her face with a pillow. It would be a disaster.
But you’re going to be awkward around each other tomorrow anyway, another voice reasoned. There’s really nothing left to lose.
Ganyu pulled the covers over her head as if to stifle her thoughts. Fine, she relented. She’ll do it. She briefly considered texting Beidou for a second opinion, but figured the inevitable teasing and laughter would embarrass her into inaction.
Ganyu arrived at her usual time, always the first one at the office. Except instead of focusing on her work, she trained her ear for any movement down the hallway. When she heard the telltale stride of a certain someone—quick and thunderous—she nearly jumped out of her seat. Ganyu took a moment to gather herself before setting off in the direction of Keqing’s office.
The door was closed. Ganyu gave it a tentative knock.
There was a pause. “Come in.”
Keqing immediately stood up from her desk. To the untrained eye, she might have looked annoyed to have her work disrupted so early in the morning. But Ganyu easily clocked the way she wrung her hands, the light panic in her eyes. Nervous energy practically rolled off of her in waves.
Great, Ganyu thought. Now they were both nervous. She honestly wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
Keqing spoke first, as though she had been expecting her. “Um, Ganyu, about last night. I—”
Ganyu held up a hand. She rarely spoke over Keqing. “May I go first?”
“Oh…” Keqing said, shoulders sagging. “Sure.”
Ganyu steeled herself like she was going into the most important negotiation of her life. “Have you seen The Glaze Lily yet?”
Keqing’s nervousness was quickly replaced with confusion. “Glaze Lily? The romcom?”
Ganyu nodded. “The one with Ayaka.”
Keqing blinked. “No, I have not.”
“Would…” Ganyu’s heart was racing now. This had to be the most foolish thing she’d ever done at work. “Would you like to see it? With me?” Her breath caught when she added, most importantly, “As a date.”
Keqing’s mouth fell open. “Oh,” was all she said.
Ganyu swallowed. “Is that a no?”
“No!” Keqing said, before her eyes widened in horror. “I mean, yes. Yes,” she reassured, face flushing pink.
All at once, the tension finally left Ganyu’s body. She could only look on in amusement as Keqing continued to fiddle with her hands.
“I wanted to say I was sorry for yesterday,” she admitted. “I wanted to spend time with you, but I didn’t think of the implications. If it were a real date, I would have planned it more carefully. I wouldn’t have let you second-guess it.”
“I see.” Relief washed over Ganyu. Leave it to Keqing to think a last-minute reservation at a nice restaurant was poor planning. She was always so thorough and direct in her relationships, whether in business, or…
Ganyu smiled. Keqing really was cute. She was looking forward to their date. And despite Keqing’s earlier reassurances, there was no way she’d let herself fall asleep during it.
“I was thinking,” she said. “Before the movie, we could grab some coffee first…”
“Hu Tao, get back to work,” Keqing said bluntly. “I know Zhongli is looking for you.”
“Just answer my questionnnn,” Hu Tao whined as she was all but shoved out of Keqing’s office. “Everybody else answered it!”
“Fine!” Keqing huffed. “It wasn’t a date because your friend’s friend didn’t say it upfront. Both parties should’ve agreed beforehand or it won’t count.”
After Keqing successfully kicked her unruly coworker out and slammed the door shut, she wondered why Hu Tao had been laughing.