Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief, Xiao did worry about some things in life.
Not over himself. No no, he was far too punctual (and admittedly self negligent) for that. Ever since he was young, he prided himself over his dependability. He always showed up to every meeting at least five minutes early, took detailed notes on every lecture he attended (even when he felt like shit) and was cautious not to subscribe to any responsibilities he knew he couldn’t handle. It was rare to be concerned over himself when he lived and breathed structure into every aspect of his life, and whenever mishaps did happen, he walked out of any inconvenience knowing that he hadn’t caused it.
Well, he thought, as a distressed yelp came from the bedroom, almost every aspect of my life.
No, what caused him to worry wasn’t himself. It was the presence of others who threw his wonderfully organized life into disarray. And, today (like every other day), it was one person in particular.
“Venti,” he called for what seemed like the millionth time. “If you don’t go soon you’re gonna be late. It’s already 8:16 and the bus takes half an hour to get there and-”
“Stop reminding me!” Xiao couldn’t see what was going on, but judging from the shuffling of footsteps in the hallway, Venti was either trying to put together a completely impractical outfit or he’d lost something important. Or both. He could never tell which one it was. “I won’t miss it this time.”
“You sure?”
He heard an exasperated sigh. “I-”
“Because you said that last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. And every time I’ve had to give you extra cash for the taxi fare which-”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
“You sure?” Xiao lifted up the slabs of potatoes on the pan ever so slightly. They were a perfect golden brown, and even though he’d cooked this same dish hundreds of times over, he still felt a small slither of pride at the sight. “Cuz if it happens again, I’m not paying for the cab.”
“ Archons Xiao, you’re my boyfriend, not my mom.”
As he flipped the hash browns over, he found himself saying, “Definitely feels like I am sometimes.”
Xiao braced himself for another quip or one of Venti’s high pitched whines but neither of them came. Instead, he was met with static silence. He turned his focus back to the hash browns, inhaling a nose full of that mouth watering aroma which he, unfortunately, wouldn’t be able to taste himself. There had just been enough potatoes in the fridge to make a full meal for one of them, and he could wait for breakfast. Xiao was fine with eating later in the day, but he knew that if Venti wasn’t happily stuffed before heading to rehearsal he wouldn’t be able to play as well.
Why don’t you just cook in the morning then? Xiao had asked a few months prior when Venti first told him. Venti’s hair was highlighted a neon purple back then, strands of it blowing in the wind as they stood in the balcony overlooking the sprawling metropolis of Liyue. That was one of the first times they’d hung out willingly, previous interactions consisting of either obligatory small talk or awkward slip ups in the hallway. Venti had simply shrugged in response.
Dunno how. Besides, who needs cooked food when apples are always there to satiate my hunger?
He cooked breakfast everyday from then on.
The memory brought a small smile to his lips. He remembered frowning when Venti had said that, an emotion he hadn’t understood yet as love boiling a pit in his stomach as he lectured the other boy on how unhealthy his habits were. They’d spent every morning since eating together, getting to know each other over those precious fifteen minutes when it was just them and the scent of freshly cooked food before they’d get whisked away by the chaos of excel documents and music sheets.
It was a sacred time of the day that they still found time for, though over the past few weeks the usual ambience had been disrupted by an upcoming performance that Venti spent nearly all his time practicing for. Xiao had gotten used to incessant noise during ungodly hours ever since the busker moved in, but these days he’d wake up some mornings and still find Venti playing, eyes closed and body swaying with the rhythm like he hadn’t even realized a whole day had passed by. Sometimes Venti would go to Aether’s and they’d practice together (for a total of ten minutes before lapsing into i-drama binges), waking Xiao in the middle of the night with the creak of rusted hinges. He didn’t mind, though. He knew how important this performance was for Venti, and he wanted to do whatever he could to put the other boy at ease.
“Food’s ready!” he shouted down the hallway.
Nothing.
No hurried footsteps. No “I’m coming!”s. Not a single sound came through the corridor.
Xiao felt his heart constrict in his chest. He was unused to the quiet when Venti was around, and all it did now was spike his anxiety. There was always noise with Venti. He knew, rationally, that he was overthinking but he couldn’t help worrying. Had he fallen asleep again? Was he okay? Xiao’s mind reeled back to the last time Venti had an episode, where Xiao had to wait for hours outside their bedroom before Venti let him inside. He didn’t want Venti to go through that alone again, recalling how he’d held the other boy in his arms until he slept out of exhaustion, hands still joined together to remind him that you’re not alone. I’m here with you.
He dumped the hash browns onto a plate. “Venti?” he said. “Are you okay?”
Soft, padded footsteps echoed through the room. He caught a glimpse of teal, slime-themed socks before Venti fully emerged.
He was dressed relatively simply today with his favorite shamrock sweater (that he stole from Xiao), white jeans, and his signature beret which sat lopsidedly on his head. He made a point of slowly turning to Xiao, pouting, then saying, “I can’t find my music sheets.”
Xiao shoved the plate towards him.
“Ooh, hash browns!”
“I am actually dating a five year old.”
“That makes you a pedophile,” Venti answered cheerily.
He was already on the move. “Did you leave them at Aether’s yesterday?”
“Don’t think so,” he said, words muffled with a mouth full of potatoes. “I remember bringing them home.”
Xiao peered under the sofa. “Not here. Where’d you last see them?”
“They should be in the bag you gave me. The brown one. I can’t remember where I put it last night, just that I brought it home.”
“This is why you pay attention instead of watching netflix all night,” he said as he walked into the bathroom. He had no idea why it’d be there. There was no reason for it to be there. But the possibility was never zero.
“In my defense, we did practice! For a whole thirty minutes, even. And then, after we were worn to exhaustion and our fingers no longer functioned there was nothing left to do besides binging three seasons of ‘My CEO Husband’.”
“Didn’t you watch that one already?”
“No, I think you’re mistaking it for ‘My Actor Husband’. Hated it. The only saving grace of that show was Kamisato Ayato’s gorgeous face. This one’s way better.”
Xiao was barely listening. He walked out of the bathroom, bag in hand. “How did this end up in the bathtub?”
“You found it!” Venti squealed, leaping off the chair and bounding towards him. “And I don’t remember. I was drunk, ehe.”
“Did Aether send you home?”
“Yes, Xiao. He worries about me just as much as you do, which means you don’t have to bother when he’s around. You’ll get wrinkles on that beautiful forehead of yours.”
“Good to know he also has a doctorate on babysitting.”
“C’mon,” Venti said, “I can’t be that bad.”
Xiao handed him the bag. “Oh, trust me. You absolutely can.”
Venti winked. (Xiao hated that he found it adorable.) “Love you too.”
“You should probably get going,” Xiao said. “You’ll be late otherwise.”
“Alright,” Venti said, pulling away. It was stupid. Really, really stupid. But a part of him felt a pang of longing as the other boy skipped towards the door, leaving Xiao cold without his presence. They were going to see each other in a few hours. Okay, maybe longer than that. They’d both been too busy to do anything besides chat for a bit at night when Venti came home. Still, they were roommates for archon’s sake. He had no reason to be this clingy.
Yet as Venti put on his Mary Janes and picked up his froggy umbrella, Xiao found himself yelling, “Wait!”
Venti’s green-blue eyes were wide with surprise as he let out a confused, “Hm?” Xiao didn’t know why he did it. What possessed him to go all the way across the room and put his hand on Venti’s jaw, lean in and kiss him slowly, deeply, like it was the last time they’d ever meet each other. He couldn't understand it the way he didn't understand how sweet Venti tasted despite just having eaten hash browns, how he almost leaned into it more than Xiao did, even though he hadn’t initiated it. Xiao lingered there for as long as he could, letting the rest of the world, the clock, the bus fade away while he pretended that they were the only two people on earth, soaking each other in until he was satisfied enough to break away.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Venti couldn’t meet his gaze for some reason, turning his eyes to the floor.
“For good luck,” Xiao managed to get out.
“Y-yeah,” he said. He was still looking at the ground, cheeks covered by the stray braids that hung limply in front of his face. “I-uhm. Should probably get going.”
Venti whipped around at a speed that Xiao didn’t know was humanly possible, crashing into the doorknob with such force that he dropped his umbrella. “I’m fine!” he squeaked as he bent down to pick it up. “Totally good.”
“Did I do something wrong-”
“NO!” Venti shouted. He covered his mouth before repeating, “No. It’s just-Uhm.” Xiao had never seen him so rattled before. He took a deep breath. “It’s nothing. I should probably get going. Seeyouloveyoubyebye! ”
Then he was out the door, and Xiao was left standing alone, still wearing his "kiss the chef" apron with a new dish to clean, wondering what the fuck he just did to his boyfriend.