Work Text:
Ding!
Chongyun preemptively looks up from his phone, away from the source of the sound. He surveys his surroundings, making eye contact with everyone who had turned to the chime of his mobile device— no doubt judging him. Every pair of eyes he made contact with, he would flash them a sorry smile, polite (and fake) to the point of painful.
Not counting the curious onlookers blocked from his peripheral by the many many bookshelves lining the library walls, he was sure he had silently apologized to everyone; but it wasn’t like he was keeping score. Oops, sorry about that. My bad!
To everyone but the person across the table from him.
“Seriously?!” Xingqiu hushes from behind his book, raised criminally high to shield him from the embarrassment that was his college roommate and longtime best friend.
“I’m sorry!” Chongyun whispers back, now leaning over the table, shortening the distance between them.
“Text from Xiangling,” he finishes his apology all the while shoving the blame to a certain short-haired girl. Whether his remark was intended as that or not is up in the air for Xingqiu’s internal debate.
Xingqiu rolls his eyes as a silent response, returning back to his waiting book.
After he was sure that Xingqiu had forgiven him, Chongyun motions to his phone and switches the sidebar, silencing his phone for the rest of forever— or until he feels like switching it again.
He swipes to unlock it and checks for Xiangling’s unopened message. Messages.
[Ramsay
Today at 9:05 AM
Hey are you and Xingqiu free later today?
Today at 3:32 PM
Okay it’s ‘later today’ right now. Since you ghosted me, I’ll go ahead and take your silence as affirmation.
ill se you guys at the cafe across the amphitheater at 3:45 today, it’s something fairly important so pls be sure to make it :]
]
“Xingqiu,” Chongyun whispers as he brings his hand to his mouth, intending to redirect the flow of his words and drown it out from non-intended recipients (but it’s more so done for reassurance).
At his best friend’s request, Xingqiu looks up from his book and raises his left eyebrow. What?
“Xiangling wants to meet with us at that one cafe today.”
“When?”
“At…” Chongyun lets his words trail as he looks down at Xiangling’s messages for the second time that day. “In, like, 5 minutes.”
At Chongyun’s response, Xingqiu shuts his book quite forcibly— something Chongyun flinched at.
“And you didn’t tell me this sooner because?”
“I didn’t see her message until just now.”
“Right. You mean when you interrupted no one but every single breathing person in this room?”
Unable to find the right words to respond to his friend’s remark, Chongyun flashes a light smile and lightly shrugs his shoulders. Sorry .
“Whatever, it’s fine,” Xingqiu starts as he gets up from his chair, pushes it under the desk, and throws his backpack over his shoulders, book tucked in his hands. “We should get going if we hope to make it.”
“Yessir.”
————————————————
Chime.
The door to the campus café chimes, announcing the arrival of the pair as they step over the threshold.
“Ah, there you guys are!” Xiangling cheers as she gets up from her chair to make room for the addition of two new guests at their small table.
“Well, you two are late,” Kazuha says as he lifts his half-empty drink, meeting the straw halfway.
“It’s fine,” Hu Tao interrupts. “Better later than never.”
“Yup, now we can finally start our very important discussion!” Xinyan declares, preventing the group from straying too far from their intended reason for meeting in the first place.
“Yeah, what did you guys want to talk to us about?” Chongyun asks, now seated between Xinyan and Xingqiu. “What’s so important that it got me in trouble with Xingqiu and more or less embarrassed the living shit out of me in front of everyone else?”
At Chongyun’s rhetorical question, Hu Tao raises her eyebrows in a half-amusing and half-tell-me-what-happened-later manner.
“Don’t be dramatic Chongyun,” Xingqiu scolds him.
“Well…”
Xiangling stops, gears turning in her head as she thinks of how she can execute her idea to her awaiting friends.
“Since it’s near Thanksgiving time, I was wondering if you guys are down to hold a…” she stops, looking for the right word. “Dinner… party.”
“Dinner party?” Xinyan asks from her spot questioningly. “Like one of those formal ones?”
Xiangling shakes her head.
“No, an informal, friends-only type beat of dinner party.”
“Oh, I’m in,” Kazuha says as he takes another sip of his drink. “Who’s hosting it though?”
“That’s what we’re here to decide,” Xiangling replies almost smugly as she reaches into her tote bag, fumbling around for something. It was almost as if she knew what her friends’ answer would be, even before verbally confirming it; almost .
“Here!”
“What’s that?” Hu Tao asks, looking from Xiangling to the sticks in the girl’s hands.
“We’ll gamble on it. The person who pulls the shortest stick is responsible for hosting it.”
“Well, what if that unfortunate soul just so happens to be a roommate with someone else here?” Xingqiu hesitantly asks. Though he knew the answer, he felt the question should be asked regardless— in case he was wrong, which he usually isn’t, but just in case .
Xiangling smiles pitifully at him as she knew where he was going with his inquiry. “Then you should help them prepare for the best dinner party ever.”
To her response, Xingqiu slumps further into his chair, hoping and wishing that neither he nor Chongyun draws the shortest stick. Unfortunately for him, with the two of them combined, the chances of doing so just so happen to be slightly higher than the rest.
“Are we ready?” Xiangling asks as she prepares for the fateful draw and spreads out the sticks so her friends can easily pull from. “On the count of 3, everyone grab one.”
“1…”
“2…”
3!”
The sticks in Xianglang’s hands began to disperse one after another.
“So who’s got it?” Hu Tao asks, looking at hers, then to the rest of her friends.
“I think… I did…” Chongyun mutters, squinting his eyes down at his as if trying to find the rest of its length— something he failed to do.
“Let’s see,” Kazuha starts. “Here, compare it to the rest of ours.”
Six sticks were put close to each other towards the center of the table.
“Damn. Looks like it really is me.”
“It’s fine,” Xiangling reassures as she reaches to pat Chongyun’s sullen back from where she sat. “You have Xingqiu, you two will be fine.”
“I digress,” Xingqiu mutters, glaring at Chongyun’s shamefully short stick, his monologue cursing at the ill-fated thing.
“I’m looking forward to the bestest informal dinner party!” Xiangling muses, choosing to ignore Xingqiu’s comment altogether.
The rest of the friend group nod in agreement, excited about the idea of dinner together and even more excited that it won’t be hosted at their respective abodes.
“How about meeting at their place at 7:00 pm sharp on Thanksgiving day?” Xiangling suggests as she stands up, hinting at her departure. “Everyone’s free at that time, right?”
Xinyan, Hu Tao, and Kazuha nodded.
“Seven is too late, how are we gonna do all the things we want to without pulling an all-nighter?” Chongyun questions. “How about you guys come at 6:00 instead?”
Xingqiu sent Chongyun a silent side-glare but it seems he was a moment behind.
“I’m fine with that time,” Kazuha says— rather almost quickly. “What about the rest of you?”
This time, it was Hu Tao, Xinyan, and Xiangling who nodded.
“Cool! That’s that then,” Xinyan says happily. “I’ve got to go to my band now, see ya guys later!”
With that, Xinyan steps out the door, guitar strapped behind her back, patiently waiting to be strummed.
“Kazuha and I have to go to the poetry club too,” Hu Tao adds. “Are you coming with, Xingqiu?”
Xingqiu nods his head. “Yeah, but I’ll be there shortly. You guys can go ahead.”
Hu Tao shrugs as she and Kazuha head to the door and out into the world of college club life.
“I’m not as busy as the rest of them but I do have this new recipe I’ve been dying to try out,” Xiangling says as she takes a few steps away from their table, gesturing to the door.
“Good luck guys!”
And with that, the one responsible for the Thanksgiving dinner was out the door, shoulders free of any more responsibility for the occasion, as if she was only meant to suggest it.
At their friends’ departure, Chongyun hesitantly shuffles between the now empty seats.
He’s— once again— across from Xingqiu.
————————————————
Achoo!
“Bless you,” Xingqiu calmly says, keeping his eyes on the road as he reverses from the local market’s (rather small) parking lot.
Chongyun mutters a sorry thank you as he reaches for his seatbelt in the passenger seat.
“So what’s next on our list?” Xingqiu questions.
“Uhh…” Chongyun starts as he unlocked his phone and opens the Notes app. “We put— and I quote word for word— chicken or turkey.”
“What?” Xingqiu grimaces. “Were the past us really that indecisive?”
“Guess so. But it’s really only just the us from 2 nights ago.”
“So which one are we getting? So I know where to drive.”
“Since it’s Thanksgiving, shouldn’t we go for turkey?” Chongyun suggests the obvious answer.
Xingqiu nods subtly, eyes still on the road ahead. “I guess so.”
~~~
“Alright, we’re here,” Xingqiu states rather adamantly as he puts his car in park. “You can go in and buy it.”
“Alrighty,” Chongyun says as he reaches for the door and opens it. “Be back in a bit.”
“Make sure you close the door on your way out,” Xingqiu lightly says as he reaches for his book tucked under the armrest.
He barely turns the page before—
“Hey so uh…” Chongyun says, opening the door, rather hurriedly.
“Hm?” Xingqiu looks up from his book. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s like,” Chongyun hesitates before continuing. “A protest against the turkey-selling place.”
With the passenger side door fully opened, Xingqiu can hear what Chongyun was alluding to. He turns over his shoulder, looking for the sound.
Lo and behold, there the group was. Sign-raising, yelling(?), and protesting.
“Quite admirable,” Xingqiu thinks his thoughts aloud.
“Right,” Chongyun agrees hesitantly as he leans into the car, right hand over the hood (which Xingqiu totally finds attractive but that’s to be kept to himself till death renders it unshareable to the rest of the unknowing world).
“Are we still up for turkey?” the sky blue-haired boy asks, unwilling to get back in his seat.
He contemplates for a second.
“Y’know what, never mind,” he corrects himself and steps into the car, strapping in his seatbelt once again. “We should reconsider.”
“Huh?” Xingqiu looks at him questioningly. “You’re not getting the turkey? No one in the group is vegetarian ya know.”
“Yeah but… it would be weird.”
“How so?” Xingqiu perks his head to the side, failing to catch on.
“Because they’re literally right at the entrance. If I were to go inside and come back out with fresh turkey then that would just be awkward.”
Xingqiu takes a moment to respond, no doubt considering what his best friend had said.
“I guess so, but why does it even matter? Yes, they’re commendable for protesting but we still need our fresh turkey. And they’re not stopping us from getting it. Not to mention it’s Thanksgiving .”
“But can’t we get it somewhere else? I’m not going in there. You can go.”
Xingqiu deadpans at Chongyun’s response, the familiar feeling of pettiness surging back into him. “Fine. I’ll drive us back to the market. You’re going in. It was you that got us in this mess in the first place.”
Chongyun rolls his eyes at the proposed ultimatum.
“Fine— but just so you know, we already lost the draw when we became roommates. The odds were against us.”
“Whatever, I just hope the market turkey is as good as the one here,” Xingqiu mutters as he hesitantly turns on the left signal and puts his car in drive.
“Else we won’t hear the end of it from our resident chef.”
————————————————
Huff .
“Can you sigh any louder?” Xingqiu berates his roommate as he places his grocery bag next to Chongyun’s on the small counter of their apartment.
“Apologies kind sir,” Chongyun sarcastically replies. “I will keep my fatigue-ness in check the next time I’m around your divine presence.”
Xingqiu rolls his eyes as he works to clear the paper bag of its contents. It was just another day living with the sky-blue-haired boy.
Chongyun works to do the same.
“Alright,” Xingqiu starts as he opens a cookbook he had found on one of the cabinets of their kitchen, flipping through the pages. “Should we start with setting up the plates? Since it’s simple to do so?”
“Paper plates, right?” Chongyun verbally confirms as he unwraps the paper plates and plastic utensils from their respective packages.
Xingqiu nods as he continues to flip through the pages, looking for their desired dishes: roast turkey, mash potatoes and gravy, egg rolls, crystal shrimp, golden shrimp balls, and ice cream for dessert. Excessive? Maybe. Necessary for a good night? Definitely .
“Xingqiu.”
The named man looks up from the open book.
“How many sets do we need? 6 right? Kazuha, Xinyan, you, me, Xiangling…” Chongyun trails off, counting the names of guests on his fingers.
“And Hu Tao, so yeah, the 6 of us,” Xingqiu responds. “But can you add one more? I invited Albedo as thanks for helping draw the cover of my last novel.”
“You and your book nerds, got it” Chongyun verifies as he takes out another set for the seventh person.
Xingqiu shrugs nonchalantly as he works to flip through the rest of the cookbook, marking every recipe with a post-it note.
The clock strikes 1:00 pm.
“I’m done setting up the plates, are we ready to get the show on the road?” Chongyun steps back into their small kitchen.
“Yeah. For the most part, we are,” Xingqiu looks up from the book.
“I’ll split up the courses and assign us to one of each so we can finish faster,” he proposes. “Take out your phone and take a picture of the ice cream, egg rolls, and crystal shrimp recipe.”
On Xingqiu’s command, Chongyun leans in to take a picture of all the recipes verbally listed.
Away from Xingqiu’s knowledge (until he decides to open Discord and check for himself), Chongyun snuck a text to the group.
[monky shrine - 6 Members
popsicle boyo Today at 1:01 pm
You guys are def not rdy for tonight kaka :blushes:
Walnut is typing…
]
2:03 pm.
As the two cook, the childhood friends found a steady rhythm to work with— in the small kitchen that would’ve made it harder if they were anything otherwise.
The speakers are turned on to max volume, blasting Chongyun’s Spotify playlist: fever dream. (The fact that Chongyun used his phone for only music in the kitchen irritated Xingqiu. It means that he isn’t following the recipe; that he isn't following the book and its step-by-step instructions.)
“We should turn it down before we get another noise complaint.”
“It’s fine, it’s Thanksgiving, I’m sure they’ll spare us a night.”
“It’s exactly because it’s Thanksgiving that we should spare them a night,” Xingqiu corrects and smacks his partner-in-crime’s shoulder with the unused whisk in his hand.
3:15 pm.
Their first two dishes are done: egg rolls and golden shrimp balls.
It is also then that Chongyun decides to add himself to the percussion section of whatever song was playing (still on max volume— much to Xingqiu’s displeasure).
Xingqiu looks over at him, flabbergasted at his friend’s audacity to take a break when only one-third of the promised menu was done.
“Why aren’t you washing your shrimps for your next dish? Why are you banging our chopsticks against our wine glasses?” Xingqiu cringes. Anytime now, and they will crack.
“Because Xingqiu, ” Chongyun quips, voice laced with an ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ tone.’ “You can only reach the various notes with wine glasses.”
Xingqiu sighs in disappointment, unwilling to question any more.
“Er— well— glass in general, but we really only have the former.”
5:27 pm.
“Turkey progress?” Xingqiu asks a tad bit too loud (but the still maxed-out music was to blame for his slightly higher-than-normal octave).
“Uh,” Chongyun leans down to the oven, checking for the remaining time. “Half… an hour?”
“Yeah, half an hour— that is— if we don’t mess it up,” he double-takes. “Which I don’t think we will by the way, but yeah. Just in case.”
“Right. Just in case,” Xingqiu echoes in an awfully relaxed manner— as if Chongyun hadn’t suggested the worst possible outcome for the night.
Xingqiu looks down at their checklist on the counter (something he insisted they needed right after they already got through half the menu).
“We still need to make the ice cream and pour the wine,” he scrunches his nose at the list then to the clock overhead, internally noting the little time they have left.
“I can pour the wine,” Chongyun proactively offers, already rummaging through their bottom cabinets, no doubt looking for the finest wine they have to offer.
“I’ll go ahead and get started on the ice cream then, it shouldn’t be that hard anyway.”
“Don’t jinx it, ” Chongyun mutters between a smirk from where he is, standing on tiptoes to reach their highest cabinets (because he couldn’t find the wine in the bottom ones).
5:55 pm.
“Okay,” Xingqiu says aloud, checklist and pen in his hands. “Wines are poured, turkey nearly ready, ice cream…”
“You mean cream,” Chongyun corrects from across the counter, whisking the bowl of ‘ice cream’. “There’s no 'ice'.”
“Well whisk harder? Maybe put it in the freezer?”
“That’s not how it works. If anything, I think I whisked it too hard.”
5:56 pm.
“We should make it from scratch again,” Xingqiu says hurriedly.
He’s now back in the kitchen, looking through their fridge for any leftover ingredients.
“Dammit, we should’ve said 6:30 instead of 6:00…” Chongyun curses under his breath as he puts the bowl of heavily-whipped cream in the sink.
“Not we. Need I remind you whose fault it was?” Xingqiu says, feeling his anger from 2 days ago resurging.
Xingqiu’s head is still in the fridge before he starts again, “By the way, we don’t nearly have enough ingredients.”
5:57 pm.
“What? No, let me check.”
“I already said we don’t,” Xingqiu slaps Chongyun away from the fridge. “Take my word.”
“What do we do then?”
Xingqiu opens the freezer.
“There’s like… an unopened box of drumsticks. We can use them for dessert instead,” he suggests, reaching his hand in the freezer to fumble for it as it was all the way in the back. “Why didn’t I know about this unopened box of drumsticks? Oh god, is it expired?”
“Ah… I take credit for that. I got it like half a week ago when there were no more popsicles at the market.”
5:58 pm.
The box of drumsticks is now in Xingqiu’s hands. He works to open the box and take out the content individually, stuffing them back into the freezer for when they will be eaten later.
“Stop hovering over me and do something,” he quirks up. “Take out the turkey and plate it.”
“Yes sir.”
30 seconds until 6:00 pm.
With all their work done, the pair are now, once again, across the kitchen counter from each other. Chongyun looks at his roommate checking the last items off their list.
“You know,” Chongyun starts, leaning and sprawling his hands over to the other side of their small, fake-marble counter. “For an informal dinner party, today was pretty stressful.”
Xingqiu hums in affirmation as he slides the completed checklist into the counter drawer.
“But you know,” Chongyun lightly starts up again, refusing to end their verbal conversation to Xingqiu’s half-response. “I sort of like it. The idea of you and me hustling to get everything done.”
Xingqiu looks up.
“And I think…” Chongyun looks away for a split second, finding the appropriate words to voice his thoughts with. “I look forward to the rest of our future. Like— graduating, working, living, and growing old… together.”
Xingqiu holds his eyes.
6:00 pm.
“Is that weird?” Chongyun suddenly doubts himself, releasing their eye contact as he feels a tinge of a blush coming to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be.”
“No. No, it’s not weird at all,” Xingqiu says, finding his voice (and Chongyun’s eyes) again. “I— I think I would like that too.”
To the reassurance, Chongyun’s smile opens, “I’m glad.”
And for the first time in a while, the navy-blue-haired boy remembers what it means to blush.
Ding.