Chapter Text
Right, left, right, left, right, slide…
If anyone were here, they’d see him dancing to nothing but the rumbling of the mill and the rush of waterfalls. They’d probably laugh at his odd stance of his left hand reaching to the sky for nothing while his right palm grips the air near his collarbone, empty.
But Gaming hears the clashing of gongs and cymbals and drumbeats just as clear in his mind, even in the dead of night. His body has already memorized the movements that flow a little too light without Man Chai acting as his beast’s head, but he pretends the weight is there and he adjusts. Sometimes a guy has to practice on his own without the help of a suanni.
Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap…
Even jumping onto the pole feels odd (a little too tall, a little too wide, even for a two person dance), but he manages, then jumps to the next. The beat would be steady here, and he slowly rotates to the right to address the imaginary crowd: little kids with bright smiles, grandpas looking on in fondness, merchants looking for a bit of luck. He pulls the invisible string for the eyelids and snaps the mouth open and shut all to the beat. Thinking about their hushed cheers brings a smile to his face as he swivels to the left to do the same.
Gods, he loves dancing. Even alone, even across an old pond at an hour where only drunkards would wander home were this not Qingce, where most of the residents are the elderly or children who have long since gone to bed. His transport work has gone well so far, but just because there’s no action doesn’t mean it’s any less exhausting and time consuming, and he’d be damned if he let his routine slip up this close to New Years.
Hence, he’s out here in the cold to practice what he loves.
Especially since this is a great place to practice. Clear of obstructions and planted with sturdy logs, they make for great platforms to balance on even if they’re wider than he’s used to, and they were just begging Gaming, whispering his name saying, “Show us your skills, Stalwart Strider. When will you get another chance along the road?”. He couldn’t possibly pass it up without trying at least once.
Not to mention that an irregular field hasn’t stopped him before. He’s leapt across forgotten ruins and danced upon broken floorboards, but not many terrains are so conveniently arranged like this one.
Just as he’s squatting down to mimic inspecting a bird, he hears Man Chai whine from the shore. He glances over to the little ball of fire and fur with a lopsided smirk.
“Nuh uh, we just got the smell of wet dog out of my clothes. You stay there,” he chuckles.
Man Chai’s huff makes him snort back in amusement, and he continues his movement.
Shake, blink, ah- ears, jump. Pause...jump –
Man Chai’s startled yelp disrupts his flow and he crouches as soon as he lands, grips the edge of the log for dear life and jerks his head up towards the disturbance. Splinters burrow into his fingers, but he can’t concentrate on that now; what is that white figure hurtling towards him?!
A person – that’s a person with a large sword and they’re too far into their next jump to stop –
“Oof!”
Startled blue eyes meet his before they both crash into the water below, and suddenly it goes from being murky white to pitch black. It’s cold, oh god it’s cold, his eyes sting and his lungs are burning and his feet are touching the riverbed, meaning he’s at the bottom. Curse these deceptively clear waters of Qingce! He didn’t think the pond was that deep!
As soon as he breaks through the water’s surface, Gaming finds himself coughing up the water he swallowed alongside this stranger, who follows him back to shore while spitting up water in tandem. Man Chai’s frantic barks ring in his ears as the mystical beast presses in between him and their surprise guest, ones that quickly turn to growls as soon as the stranger turns to face them.
“What the hell, man?”
“I’m terribly sorry!” the stranger’s voice gravels while he bows deep enough to hit his head on the ground. The full moon does a great job of illuminating the silvery locks of sopping wet hair on his head...or is that more of a blue color? Either way his voice strikes something in the back of Gaming’s mind, like a memory that’s slipped halfway into obscurity and held only by a thin string of familiarity.
The stranger coughs up a last bit of water before continuing his apology, clearing his throat. “I’ve been told that a suspicious spirit has been…”
Gaming’s eyes widen as he watches this stranger lift his head, and both of their breaths halt.
“...Chongyun?” he whispers.
Chongyun freezes mid rise, just as wide-eyed, and for a second time Gaming gets to appreciate the stunning color of blue before he mutters back, “...Gaming?”
And all the sudden he’s thrust into memories of climbing golden hilltops with his tiny limbs and clumsily swinging practice swords at dawn as his father converses with friends in the Tianheng compound. He had a dear friend of his own: a boy his age with hair that reminded him of glaze lilies and snow, and a stubborn will to match his own.
His heart swells and he can’t help himself; laughing from excitement and utter joy, Gaming launches himself towards Chongyun to initiate the bear hug of a lifetime. He wasn’t expecting it, naturally, and so the two of them hit the ground with a small grunt.
“Chongyun! I can’t believe it, what are you doing here?!” he gushes. Chongyun opens his mouth – wow, ten years have really turned baby-cheeked Yun into a handsome guy – and before he can reply properly, Gaming latches onto Man Chai before the little ball of fire leaps to tear his face off.
“Sorry, sorry! He’s protective sometimes!”
“You don’t say,” Chongyun mutters as he attempts prop himself up. “Wait, is that a lion spirit?”
He leans back with a guilty chuckle, flinching only slightly as he puts too much pressure onto the splinters still burrowed in his skin and proceeds to untangle his legs so they can properly sit. “A suanni! It’s kind of a long story, but Man Chai and I have been best buds for a while now. Don’t worry, he’ll warm up to you in no time!”
Man Chai’s growls soften into more of a confused whine, and Gaming strokes his head with the back of his hand as a gesture of comfort, or as much as he can without the creeping pain.
“Why don’t you take a rest? It’ll be fine. Little Yun’s a friend.”
Chongyun’s indignant squawk makes him smile as Man Chai reluctantly retreats, and he begins to inspect his hand for the damage done. Thankfully his gloves did a good job keeping his palms safe, but among the tiny ones there’s a particularly bad splinter lodged in his ring finger, just below his first knuckle.
“Here, allow me. It’s my fault you got those anyway.”
Before he knows it, his palm is in a gentle grasp, Chongyun’s fingers surprisingly warm for this cold weather, and Gaming can only spare the briefest of glances at his friend before he has to look away. “Oh, s-sure!”
Wow the sky looks pretty tonight, haha…
There’s a small silence as Chongyun concentrates on his hand and he concentrates on anything but Chongyun, but it doesn’t last long.
“To answer your question, I was in the village to gather supplies for my Auntie earlier today,” he explains while picking at one of the smaller pieces with his fingernails, “Granny Ruoxin told me that there has been suspicious activity near the waterfalls facing Rhodeia’s sacred waters, so I came to investigate.”
Ah, so the “exorcist with a heart of clear water and a face of ice” was him after all. “When I heard the rumors, I immediately thought that Little Yun finally made his dream come true,” Gaming says with a grin. Chongyun’s grip tightens for a split second, but he still smirks when his friend scoffs again.
“I can’t believe you’re still holding onto that dumb nickname after all this time. You’re only half a year older than me.”
“You’re right, sorry.” Little isn’t the right term anymore for either of them. There are a lot better words to describe him now, though he’s not much of a poet. “I won’t call you that again.”
Finally he manages to push the first splinter out, then moves onto the larger one. It stings the moment his fingertips brush over it, and Gaming hisses by reflex.
Chongyun apologizes, “I’ll try to be careful. Here.”
To Gaming’s immediate relief, Chongyun’s fingers graze over his skin again with a thin layer of frost. The ice melts as soon as contact is made, but it’s enough to numb the inflammation and take off the edge.
“A cryo Vision, huh? You really have been working hard.”
“I could say the same about you. A pyro vision suits you,” he replies with a hint of a smile. “I’ve heard about your performance in Chenyu Vale for last New Years. They say it’s been the best beast dance to have been done in over a generation.”
“Really?” he perks up. Has the Mighty Mythical Beasts’ reputation finally spread to the merchants at the harbor?! “Who said? Where’d you hear it from?”
“Some of the elders here in Qingce,” Chongyun replies hesitantly, “Hey – hold still.”
Oh. He sags a little in place, but he can’t be too disappointed. A compliment is a compliment, and he’ll take anything he can get.
“I’ve been wanting to get booked for the Liyue Qixing so I can do a performance on the terrace, but there’s so much competition in the harbor. And I guess it’s pretty hard to justify booking us when we’re all the way up in Chenyu Vale. Still, I wanna give them a Wushou dance they’ll remember for a lifetime.”
Chongyun looks up from his work to catch his gaze. “When you do, I hope that I can come to see it.”
Such a simple compliment, and what makes Gaming pause his breath is the “when”. Chongyun doesn’t question if he’s going to make it; it’s a matter of when. It makes his cheeks flush, and if they hadn’t just reunited and he wasn’t so...hesitant to spook Chongyun off, he’d offer to give him a front row seat, right then and there.
He laughs it off instead, “Aww, thanks! If our reputation can spread just as far as the famous exorcist of Liyue, then there’ll be hope for us still!”
“You’re just as energetic as you were before,” Chongyun chuckles with him before returning to his hand, “But to be clear, I’m not a full-fledged exorcist yet.”
The hint of disappointment in his voice tears Gaming away from the butterflies in his stomach and refocuses in on Chongyun’s face. Even as a kid, he trained constantly to school his expression to show nothing but neutral, but there was always a tell. There’s still a tell, and in a selfish kind of way Gaming is glad to have kept this knowledge of him sharp. That tiny dip of his brows and lowered eyes, like a secret that only a few are privy to understand.
“But you really did exorcise those spirits, right?”
The splinter finally dislodges, and he flexes his fingers as the relief spreads through his nerves.
“Technically, yes.”
“And that doesn’t qualify as being an exorcist?”
“Not according to my clan’s traditions, no.” Chongyun lets out a small sigh, and behind it Gaming can hear all of the doubts whispered over his head and the sneers of the ignorant that Chongyun had to endure, and that little noise jabs him worse than the splinters. He knows that feeling. He’s lived it.
“You don’t think you are?”
He turns his head to avert his gaze.
Before he even thinks about it, Gaming turns the tables and grips Chongyun’s hand before he pulls away, and leans in.
“I don’t care what they say or what you think. You are an exorcist,” he says hotly, with an old protectiveness that rears up from deep in his chest, “You are. It just means that you’re still mastering your technique. That doesn’t disqualify you.”
His words seem to stun Chongyun in place, frozen with wide eyes that gives Gaming a direct view of his pupils shifting into diamonds. That is a sight he hasn’t seen in a long time, and he adores them just as much as he did back then, too. They’re like looking at stars in daylight.
But he also remembers why they’re doing that, and he releases Chongyun’s hand to give him some space. That seems to break the mood, and his friend coughs into his hand and looks away.
“Thank you, Gaming. I’ll keep doing my best to live up to my clan’s name.”
The moonlight must be playing tricks on him or maybe it’s Chongyun’s condition, but his cheeks look awfully pink. They probably match if he’s being honest. Are things too awkward now? Did he go too far?
“You said there was an evil spirit in the area? It’s just been me and Man Chai around here these last couple of nights, but I don’t know the first thing about recognizing an evil spirit. How about we team up and search the place?”
He has the sinking feeling that the “suspicious activity” is more like an honest mistake, since he hasn’t been the most discreet while practicing, and the way that Chongyun bites his lower lip has him thinking that he’s likely come to the same conclusion.
What a relief it is to see him steel with resolve instead of giving up.
“Just in case,” he accepts, “You don’t have to go with me, though. I interrupted your practice and I’m sure you want to get back to it.”
“No way, when will I get another chance to go on a ghost hunt?”
And when will I get another chance to see you again?
“Come on, at least let me see how your sword skills have grown! Like old times,” he finishes with a light nudge against the sole of his shoe.
The prospect of a challenge seems to crack Chongyun’s cold façade, earning Gaming a smirk as he crosses his arms. “All right. But, if by chance we do see an evil spirit, you have to promise me that you’ll do as I say.”
“You got it, boss.”
A laugh poorly disguised as a cough ends their debate, and for the first time in the night, he see’s Chongyun smile. “Then follow me.”
They scour their current embankment to no avail, and afterwards they cross the pool by leaping across the rocks that have settled near the crest of the first waterfall.
(Now this would have been a neat place to practice. Dangerous? Yes. Mind-blowingly cool from the audience’s perspective below as they watch a suanni dance in front of the full moon on top of a waterfall? Emphatically yes).
“Gaming, what brings you to Qingce Village?” Chongyun asks while they pause on the bank at the other side. There’s nothing here either, save for a single pine tree and a few bushes cozied up to the rock wall and the embankment climbing upwards against the mountain. The moonlight doesn’t reach here, but he can make out the soft reflection of white from Chongyun’s clothes ahead, and it’s enough to guide him along.
“I’m on a transport job for a merchant! He’s got some business down in the harbor to take care of,” he notes. “I’d tell you more about it, but confidentiality stuff. Sorry.”
Normally people are surprised when he tells them his official line of work. Performer or salesman is what they often guess, show-off and thug on the bad days. He supposes that his usual easygoing personality combined with his love of beast dancing confuses a lot of people, but then again, not many people see him at work either.
Not Chongyun, though. All he does is glance back and cocks his head slightly, that almost-smile peeking out on his lips. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m sure you’re great at it.”
“You think so?”
“Do you remember the time we snuck around Yujing Terrace and some of the kids there picked a fight with us? I can’t recall what happened during it, but I remember afterwards how they went running off when you bull-rushed one of them into the pond.”
Oh he remembers, and he remembers all of it. Chongyun had defended him after those stuck-up rich kids made fun of his clothes, and when they retaliated by literally and figuratively pushing Chongyun into a yang attack, Gaming couldn’t stand to let him fight alone.
“Well, I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.”
“You spent the rest of the day on alert,” Chongyun adds, amusement laced in his voice. “It felt like I had a bodyguard for the whole time we were in the city.”
Gaming sniffs as he feigns indignation, “So I’m protective of my friends.”
“That’s why I think you’d make a great guard.” He sounds affectionate when he says that, as if the scuffle was a precious memory. It is precious – sort of – to Gaming. It wasn’t the fighting or the righteousness of it that burned the moment into his heart; it was the second that Chongyun balled his fists and demanded with firm words to “take it back” when one of them compared Gaming to a cow’s stall. It was Chongyun’s assurance that he wasn’t alone.
“I’m pretty sure they were planning to get revenge, you know.”
And he’s sure that they would have, were it not for a certain other friend who had lofty connections and a (kind of scary) sharper mind.
“Say, how’s Xingqiu doing nowadays?”
He doesn’t expect Chongyun to full on snort, and it makes him jump a bit.
“Despite what he might say, he’s doing perfectly fine,” he answers. It’s exasperated, but the underlying warmth in his voice is impossible to miss.
So they still get along – that’s good to hear. They always got along in the past, and sometimes he’d wonder if Chongyun gets lonely during his endless bouts of cultivating his techniques. Or if Xingqiu felt too strangled by the strict upbringing of the guild. If they have each other, if they’ve been keeping each other company, then Gaming doesn’t have to worry as much.
Good for them, really, truly. He’s the one who moved away. He can take care of himself.
“Is he still up to his usual pranks?” he finds himself asking, and Chongyun first responds with a small wave of his hand and another sigh.
“They’ve gotten much more tolerable over the years, but be honest, I think he’s trying to turn pranking into an art form. They keep getting more elaborate, and the last time he pulled one off, he convinced Yun Jin to join him by throwing on a performance,” And then his voice lowers, “They have gotten a little funny…just don’t mention that to him.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gaming promises.
Their trek up the bank ends at the next waterfall crest, and Chongyun signals over towards the boulders lodged in the bed of the stream as their path to cross over. Too far up, he notes in dismay when he glances back towards their starting spot and the village further away. Barely anybody would be able to see.
“Oh, are you planning to have a performance here?”
Did he say that out loud? Him and his big lion mouth. “I was thinking about it. If I can find the time on my way back, then the kids would be thrilled,” he fumbles as they begin to cross. “And the folks here say that the trip to Qiaoying is getting harder every year.”
“Are you dancing somewhere else for Lantern Rite?”
“Yeah! There’s a competition going on in Liyue Harbor this year, so I’m killing two birds with one stone by doing this job. I can’t wait to show off my skills and see the other groups – hey, are you gonna be in the city for Lantern Rite? You should come check out the show!”
Chongyun hesitates, both in his words and in his steps.
“I will be, but are you sure you’d want me there?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he blurts. And just as he puts the pieces together – Chongyun and his condition, Chongyun at a high energy display of skill – the exorcist reaches the other bank and turns towards him with an extended hand.
Gaming tilts his head at it but takes his hand anyway, allowing Chongyun to help him land on the bank. He looks just as surprised by the action, and as soon as Gaming meets his gaze, his cheeks immediately flush.
“Sorry, I’m used to Xingqiu – whenever we go places, err…”
“You’re just as kind as before, too,” Gaming laughs, squeezing Chongyun’s forearm lightly before pulling away, “Xingqiu’s lucky that you take care of him so well.”
He would be lying if he said that the flustered look on Chongyun’s face wasn’t adorable, and in a vague sense he understands why Xingqiu would want to prank him so much, even if it’s not Gaming’s style. Besides, Lit – ah, Yun, has always been one to get easily flustered.
“Anyway, if my yang spirit acts up again, I could ruin the whole competition. It’s important to you, so I’d rather not place such a burden on you in the first place,” Chongyun explains as he reaches up to scratch the back of is head. “I have been doing better – I even went to the concert last year, but that was Xinyan and Hu Tao’s performance, and Hu Tao would have probably goaded me on anyway...that’s not to say that I don’t want to see you! Every time I heard that you were holding a Wushou dance nearby I’ve always wanted to attend, but…”
Gaming hears everything that Chongyun is saying, but there are two key parts to his ramblings that stick out; One: that Chongyun wants to see a Wushou dance, and two: because of his condition, he’s been afraid to.
And the third part, where it hurts to think that Chongyun could have seen him much earlier than this, when he missed his steadfast presence and his gentle words the most. What’s the point of thinking about that now?
“Really? Then what if you practice being a part of the crowd? No – better yet, why don’t I teach you? That way you can think about it as more like training, and there’s only the two of us here, so nothing bad will happen even if you do have an attack!”
Chongyun hesitates again, and Gaming feels his heart sink. “Right now?”
“After we’re done searching for spirits and the area’s secure,” he swears. Another pause. “I wanna show you everything I’ve learned since I’ve been gone! ...And I’ve missed hanging out with you.”
He can only bear to keep eye contact for a second before darting his head downwards to laugh at himself. “But you don’t have to! A Wushou dance is no good if nobody is interested.”
A firm tug on his sleeve has him looking up at Chongyun again, who gazes back with an expression that spikes through his heart.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
After a quick look at an eagle’s view of Rhodeia’s sacred waters from the top of the cliff, the two of them trek back downwards towards the first crest. There’s not a single spirit to be found, but that doesn’t seem to faze Chongyun when he calls off the search.
“They must have confused you and Man Chai as spirits. Besides, any spirit that was should have already left,” he officially concludes.
Next time, he wants to say, but he doesn’t know that for sure. “Don’t give up hope. When I go back to Qiaoying, I’ll keep my ears open for anything that can help you.”
“I’d greatly appreciate it,” Chongyun replies, and though the disappointment is still there, it’s his gratitude that comes through the most. “And thank you for allowing me to search.”
“You know me, Yun, there’s no way I’d want to stop you,” he says with a grin. “Now, ready for some lessons? You should be able to pick it up pretty quickly since we’re both trained in the martial arts!”
“Right.” And it takes no time at all for them to settle into training mode, with Gaming settling by his side like he hasn’t left a day.
“Okay, first thing! Horse stance.”
Chongyun easily falls into horse stance alongside him, and the same when Gaming instructs him to step. And then back the other way, and after a few more times, he’s moving at a regular pace.
“You’ve got it,” he praises, and archons, he’s really happy right now. He usually is when he gets to teach Wushou, but this is a new kind of feeling when he watches Chongyun. It’s too soft for pride and too early to call it accomplishment. Whatever it is, it makes him eager to move to the next step.
“Man Chai, come on out!”
The suanni leaps out from a burst of sparks, chittering as he makes a direct beeline to lick his face, and he laughs as he tries to push him back. “Okay, little guy! Save some of that energy for practice!”
Man Chai barks out before transforming into his beast’s head form, and Gaming catches the rim easily before lifting it up to observe Chongyun.
Who’s staring at him, mouth open, completely silent.
“Is this okay?” he asks, a little self conscious.
“That’s Man Chai?” Chongyun asks as he takes a step closer, “Amazing... I’ve heard that some creatures are able to change their physical appearance, but I’ve only ever seen an Oceanid transform. I never knew Suanni could too.”
“He’s been a total lifesaver,” he gushes, strangely relieved at how Chongyun’s curious gaze sweeps over Man Chai. The suanni trills softly and nibbles at a stray lock of of hair when he gets closer, and Chongyun lets out a short, choked gasp at the sudden pull.
“H-hey!”
“See, what’d I say? He likes you!”
Man Chai releases him with a little “pleh!” before Gaming pulls away entirely, finding his friend with an adorably confused expression as he tries to fix his hair.
“He does?”
“Yeah, and it’s a good thing too, because you can’t practice well unless you have a beast’s head! A regular one has strings for you to pull so that the head can blink, but you don’t have to worry about that with Man Chai around.”
And just as he shifts Man Chai around to place him over Chongyun’s head, the exorcist hesitates.
“Is he going to be really warm?”
Oh, duh. “A little, but it won’t be any worse than feeling like you’re under a warm blanket.”
But just in case, as soon as Chongyun has him securely in his hands, Gaming rubs Man Chai’s cheeks as he says, “We gotta be chill this time, okay? Yun can’t take the heat very well.”
Man Chai responds with a purr and dims the glow of his fur, and he hears a quiet sigh of relief from the inside.
“You’ve got this,” he says when he ducks underneath Man Chai’s muzzle to look at him. “Just follow my lead.”
He starts them off with a bow by positioning his arms as if he’s holding his own beast’s head, and then pushes them outwards and draws an exaggerated circle in front of him. Excitement trickles into him when he reaches to the top, and in a quick motion, he jerks the pretend beast’s head in place, as if he’s caught the sound of a bird.
That should be an easy enough start. He turns to see the last of Chongyun’s movements, then repeats his motions again, slightly faster.
“Ready to try by yourself?”
“I think so,” comes the muffled response. Man Chai blinks at him and whines, but he opts to sit on the grass instead.
“We can dance in a bit, but it’s Chongyun’s turn now,” Gaming promises. “I’ll give you a beat!”
The grass makes for a pretty bad drum set when all he has are his hands, but Chongyun’s steps soon fall into sync after a couple of beats. Now that Gaming can see him in full, he notices the way his arms stiffen when he pushes Man Chai out and around, and though his footsteps are steady, they’re sluggish to the rhythm even when he tries to match his tempo. It’s definitely a clumsy first dance.
“What do you think?” Chongyun breathes out when Gaming finishes the last drum beat.
He thinks – especially with the way Chongyun is looking at him right now, slightly panting with a light smile and curious, expectant eyes, head tilted so he can look at Gaming from under Man Chai – that maybe a yang condition is contagious, because his heart is going wild and he feels lightheaded all the sudden, and wait a second he’s supposed to say something!
“I...uh...”
Man Chai, his best friend in the whole damn world, literally swoops in to the rescue by transforming back into his usual form to tackle Gaming to the ground for another round of sloppy suanni kisses. He’s gonna feed him so many lettuce wraps when they get home…
“I guess Man Chai really wants to show you – buddy, please, I’m trying to talk, ha ha! – he wants to show you some advanced moves!”
With a poof! Man Chai transforms back into his beast head form, and Gaming settles him over his shoulders as fast as he can to hide his blush.
“...If you’re all right with that!” he adds.
He hears Chongyun shuffle before he sees him sit down. “Do you need drums?”
“I should be fine without, thanks! Just watch me,” he replies. And as soon as he says that, he immediately regrets it.
It’s just Chongyun. There’s no need to be nervous…!
He just needs to remember: nerves or not, Wushou is Wushou, and if he can give Chongyun a taste of what a real performance is like, then he’s gonna give him one.
“Ready?” he asks Man Chai, to which the suanni barks with enthusiasm. He stands and falls into horse stance, then takes a deep breath.
He starts to move. At first he performs the bow that they have just practiced, but he adds a few extra touches – a pause for Man Chai to look into the distance, a small shake of his head to fluff his mane.
Tap tap-tap...
The drumbeat here is heavy, filled with long pauses for suspense. Gaming steps to the right to raise Man Chai higher.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
He pushes left, right, left with sharp movements, zig-zagging downwards with every shift. The nervousness in his heart is now part of the thrill of the beats, pounding with the rising tempo of the cymbals that join. Steady and…
He kicks high and shifts his weight as he lands to step back, and kicks again. His heart is steady as he sweeps low for a large circle, then dips down again to follow the line of his leg, as if he was licking his fur.
Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap…
He crouches further and sweeps his leg to the right to step into it, and back the other way, and with every step he takes he puts more of his heart into it, dancing to a rhythm that rings so loud and clear, he forgets that his footsteps are the only true drumbeats among themselves.
“Gaming.”
He stops in mid-step and pushes Man Chai up to look at Chongyun, who’s clutching at his chest and breathing in clipped huffs.
He doesn’t look so good. “Are you okay?”
Chongyun shakes his head and reaches to brace himself on the ground. Gaming throws Man Chai up in the air for the suanni to transform back, and in an instant he crosses the distance to crouch down in front of him. He’s such an idiot, getting carried away when Chongyun already told him he had trouble with it!
“I’m sorry, I should have gone easier –“
But his words are cut short when Chongyun grabs at his hoodie with a firm grip and raises his head, and for the second time tonight Gaming is seeing stars.
“You were incredible,” Chongyun compliments, but he says it so fiercly that it almost sounds like a threat. “Don’t apologize, that was the best performance I’ve ever seen in my life! The way you move, I thought you turned into a real suanni!”
It’s Gaming’s turn to feel a little dizzy, both by the compliment and the unabashed smile on Chongyun’s face. “Oh, I –“
And he gets cut off again when Chongyun releases him– but only to grapple him into a tight hug, and Gaming’s breath hitches when he feels his cheek nuzzle against the side of his own.
“I’ve missed you so much, Gaming,” he continues, and Gaming melts right then and there, “I was worried you’d be lonely when you moved, but you’re so bright and kind, and you’re so good at making friends. I always wanted to go visit, but I didn’t want to mess things up by embarrassing you in front of anyone. I’m glad you still have the same passion you’ve had since we were kids.”
“There’s no way I’d –“ he starts, but he’s surprised at how shaky his voice comes out. He clenches his teeth and buries his head against Chongyun’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around him in return as he’s suddenly fighting tears.
“There’s no way I’d be embarrassed about you! I really, really missed you, and I thought that…”
That I wasn’t important to you any more.
“You didn’t send any letters back, so I thought you were too busy. Xingqiu and I must have sent a dozen of them before we stopped.”
Now that is a sobering revelation. “You and Xingqiu sent letters? Wait, didn’t you get any of mine?”
Gaming gently pushes Chongyun away by his shoulders to look at him, and the pure confusion on his face says everything.
“You sent us letters?” And in between this pause where they’re both trying to process this fact, Chongyun’s frown deepens into a scowl. “We missed each others letters?”
“Something must have happened with the post?”
“All this time I could have been talking to you, but the mail stopped us? What kind of post loses over a dozen – ugh…”
Chongyun clutches the side of his head as his breaths become ragged, and the flush of his cheeks has worsened and spread over the course of their conversation, now reaching to his ears.
“Let’s cool you down first,” he urges. It’s been a long time since he’s seen him have a full attack, and it still worries him when they reach this point. Chongyun is bound to pass out. “Call it quits for today? I’m staying with Auntie Bai, I’m sure she won’t mind if you crash with me.”
Chongyun nods before he leans in to rest his head against his shoulder, while Man Chai brushes up against his leg to make his presence known.
“Not the night you were expecting, was it buddy?”
Man Chai’s tail wags as he tilts his head and growls softly, and he chuckles in response.