Chapter Text
Xiao swore that nothing would change between them when he moved away for university.
He had been so sure of that, too. He hated meeting new people; was a recluse with unfriendly waking hours and an unfriendlier passive expression that seemed to drive all but the most extroverted individuals away; and was downright horrible at the small talk that seemed necessary for building relationships. All in all, he was expecting to spend university alone, never going out drinking or doing whatever else the movies showed him. It didn’t even interest him: he was there to get his degree and run back to Liyue, to home.
He was only in Mondstadt because of their musical prestige, and even then, the decision hadn’t been an easy one. He’d wanted to turn down his offer from the university; alongside the tidy sum they’d offered as part of a scholarship programme, to attend a local one with his boyfriend of several years – Aether. But his father had talked him out of that, and Aether himself had been encouraging – the opportunity was simply too good to turn down.
There was no way he could have seen him coming.
It had to be the cruellest twist of fate that he’d moved in only an hour after a blue eyed, bluer haired ball of energy - who excitedly introduced himself as “Venti” and then proceeded to make himself a cosy spot in Xiao’s life ever since.
He’d offered to help Xiao unpack, despite doing so very enthusiastically, and almost scaring him away. He’d been extra careful to make sure he wasn’t touching something he wasn’t supposed to, been sure not to drop anything, and didn’t make any attempt to act offended when, in a fit of moving-in exhaustion and overwhelm, Xiao eventually told him to just leave him be and let him unpack himself.
At first, Xiao had hoped that was it – Venti had made an attempt, and had been denied, and they’d move forward being amicable toward each other at best. He gradually unpacked the remainder of his belongings, called his father to let him know he’d arrived safely, then called his boyfriend to tell him the same.
But Aether hadn’t picked up – it couldn’t be helped. He was probably still busy settling in, even though he’d moved in to his own flat a week earlier, and Xiao had been there to help the whole time, and even spent the first night in his new, rather uncomfortable single bed with him in case he felt homesick.
So he hadn’t thought too much of it – he’d probably hear from Aether later. Instead, he had opted to head into the kitchen to help himself to some food his father had packed for him.
Of course, Venti had been there, waiting around on his phone, because apparently he was determined to socialise some more. It seemed their other flatmates – three more, judging by the amount of extra doors in the hallway – had decided to arrive at a later date, so that left all of Venti’s social attention to fall on him.
So, Xiao spent his evening eating one of the seven containers of home-cooked food Zhongli had packed for him, whilst being barraged with questions about his life, degree, hobbies and interests.
Venti, he quickly learned, was a citizen of Mondstadt, and could not cook to save his life – which was probably why his gaze occasionally moved enviously from his own bowl of soupy instant noodles over to Xiao’s delightful, well balanced curry dish.
It would have been completely unbearable, the nightmarish start to a miserable three years – if not for the inexplicable fact that Venti was actually…nice. He had this open, warm sort of persona that drew Xiao in, had him looking up to catch the interest in Venti’s eye whenever he revealed a benign fact about his life in Liyue that apparently didn’t exist at all in Mondstadt. There was this smooth, balmy quality to Venti’s voice that made him pleasant to listen to, as well, which no doubt helped Xiao avoid hitting his socialising limit for the day. He found out quickly, for better or for worse, that not only were they studying the same subject – Music – but had the same classes too – almost identical timetables – it was uncanny.
In hindsight, he might be stupid enough to call it fate.
Despite their obvious differences in social capacity, their friendship had only grown exponentially from that day. Venti pulled him out of his shell, but never with enough force that he resented him for it, or felt himself being led against his will. During freshers week, he’d gone on a grand total of two nights out with Venti, which was exactly two more than he ever imagined he would attend. The first, he’d left early, and without much fanfare; and the second he didn’t actually remember going home, because, according to Venti, he’d overdone it completely on the cheap shots, and Venti had had to haul his limp, barely conscious body into a taxi to take him home at 3AM. Xiao refused to talk about that night, and preferred to pretend his dignity was still unscathed.
Their time together didn’t slow down once the semester really kick-started, though. Since most of their classes - save for the occasional seminar twice a week where they had different groups - were the same, they happened to leave the flat at the same time (and if Venti only left on time because Xiao knocked on his door to make sure he was awake every day, Venti would stubbornly deny it). Of course, they would sit together in class too, and then it only made sense to grab lunch together – since they were out and had the gap in their schedule; and then Xiao would insist they go and study in the library if the gap was a little longer, and Venti would begrudgingly accept (because they both knew he couldn’t be trusted to focus on studying alone); and then, after their schedules were finished for the day, it was only natural to walk back to the flat together.
And they’d end up having dinner around the same time, more often than not. Because Venti’s waking hours were chaotic too, and the number of occasions he stumbled home drunk at 2AM whilst Xiao was cooking his “dinner”, and had asked Xiao to cook for him too because he could hardly see straight and was an obvious fire hazard, was well over double digits by now. It had gotten to the point where he would leave leftovers on Venti’s shelf in the fridge - just in case he wasn’t around when he came back.
And then, since Venti seemed to be eating his food, it only made sense to go grocery shopping together, so they could split costs, and so Xiao knew Venti would eat what he made.
So they were together every day. And many nights. And if Venti had passed out in his bed multiple times because he’d stumbled into his bedroom drunk, “mistaking” it for his own, that was between Xiao and the spare blanket he kept for himself so he could sleep at his desk instead.
But he knew he was pushing it. That was the worst part. He wasn’t completely blind to the looks their flatmates gave them; the texts at 3AM asking them to keep the noise down in the kitchen, because Xiao had said something innocuous and Venti had burst out into drunken laughter for not reason; the comments from Venti’s other friends (most of whom he’d met on nights out – one of the rare occasions that Xiao was more likely than not away from his side) about the pair of them being inseparable. He knew they were getting a little too close for something not to be happening.
But he let it happen anyway.
The penny hadn’t really dropped until one night, when he’d passed up on an invitation to a nightclub and Venti had gone out clubbing on his own, but hadn’t returned alone. Not for the first time, but for some reason, on that one occasion, the sound of the bed next door creaking, of muffled moans and half-swallowed pleasure, grated on him as he tried to work. It was long after the sounds had finished, when he was lying in bed tossing and turning with a bitter feeling in his mouth, and those sounds replaying in his mind, that he realised he was jealous. It took another week for him to realise it was the other man he was jealous of – not just the nebulous concept of companionship whilst he was in a long distance relationship. He had feelings for Venti.
Part of him wanted to believe it was harmless - that when he went home during the summer at the end of the year, he’d forget all about Venti and the fun they were having, and fall back into place in his life in Liyue. Then, he’d come back, invigorated with rekindled love for Aether, and question why he even got so close to Venti in the first place.
That wasn’t the case, though.
When he came home, it was difficult to find alone time with his boyfriend. He’d made a lot of new friends in his university, and was rather into the nightlife too. Xiao found himself not quite able to keep up. There were too many new names, too many new faces. Aether kept talking about opportunities he was considering – studying abroad in other nations for a year or so, and for the first week Xiao was back in Liyue, Aether had gone hitchhiking around Sumeru. It took little time before Xiao found himself missing his flat in Mondstadt, the independence it brought with it, and the company.
The holidays were three whole months long, but by the second, he began to count down the days in his head until he would be able to return, and time seemed to crawl by far too slowly.
He’d made the mistake of agreeing to live with Venti again next year; Venti and some of their mutual friends - mercifully only two who were similarly party-oriented. He’d been the one mostly in charge of finding a new place - one Venti could afford, more so than himself - and fielding off dodgy landlords with his “naturally menacing aura” - as Venti had put it. But eventually he’d found another flat - a little further away from campus, but with lower rent and decent amenities. Besides, so long as he got to live with Venti, all problems would fade into minor inconveniences, probably.
Venti had already moved in - not exactly needing to go “home” for the summer, considering he was only a short journey from his parent’s house further into Mondstadt’s countryside. He seemed intent on wearing the city life like a glove for as long as he could, despite looking endearingly at home in the lush field he’d sent Xiao a picture of himself in a month into the break - apparently just a short walk from his family’s home.
He’d saved the picture in a folder on his phone. It was titled “Friends”, but really, it was a Venti folder. Only Venti sent him photos of himself regularly, or took photos of the two of them together. It had become a spot of anxiety for him, since returning to Liyue. He found himself hesitating for a moment whenever Aether asked to borrow his phone, waiting and watching with dread to make sure he wouldn’t suspect anything - wouldn’t scroll through his camera roll and question the saved photos of his flatmate.
Though maybe he was happy in Liyue, overall. It wasn’t all bad. His family were there, as were some of his oldest friends. The days he spent with Aether were good — really good — when he got the chance to see him. The first day they’d seen each other again, they’d practically been inseparable, clinging to each other all day and well into the night.
He had to admit — he’d missed him. Aether had offered to visit during the semester, but outside of a few days over winter break when Xiao had returned home to be with his family for Lantern Rite, they hadn’t ended up seeing each other at all. Something always came up — an event, an exam, some coursework in need of finishing.
But his smell was different to Venti’s, Xiao slowly realised, as the days grew longer, and then began to wane. So was his smile, and so was his laugh. Venti had a different way of viewing the world too; something half aloof and half enigmatic that never failed to fill him with wonder. He wanted to introduce Venti to his family, wanted Venti to meet his friends, wanted to show Venti what Liyue was like.
By the end of his second month back in Liyue, he had no choice but to accept the fact that he was thinking of Venti more often than not when he was with Aether, no matter what they were doing. That, of course, brought with it the daunting question of what to do with that information.
So, he went back a week early. An assignment, he lied. He needed to get a head start on an assignment.
Venti was going to be gone from the flat that afternoon - and Xiao knew because they’d been talking almost every day since he’d left. Mostly Venti - sending him photos, selfies, candid shots of himself doing a mundane task with text complaining that he was alone in the flat over the holidays. He knew for a fact that Venti had lots of friends still in Mondstadt - and he’d seen photos from Venti’s own social media - and messages - that he’d been regularly meeting up with people.
But it seemed he still missed Xiao. He’d tried not to let the thought get to him too much, least of all when he was still in Liyue.
On his train back to Mondstadt, however…
He couldn’t help but indulge, just a little, thoughts of Aether dashed to smithereens. He hoped Venti would be pleased to see him again - caught off guard by his surprise return and throw himself into his arms, and insist that they cook dinner together, or watch a movie together, or cosy up in bed together and make up for the months they had been apart.
He debated buying some groceries as he made his way from the train station to his flat - tugging his overpacked suitcase along with him - but decided against it in the middle of the supermarket upon realising there was no way he could carry a decent load of food back, one hand already in use. He could order something in for them instead, maybe with some nice wine to wash their meal down. Make a show of returning.
Yes, he could manage a wine bottle; and after ten minutes deliberating in the alcohol section, settled on a rather pricey one that Venti had mentioned before – a dawn winery reserve speciality, apparently. The cashier looked at him strangely as he paid for it, likely because he obviously looked like a student, with no business spending so much for a single bottle of wine. But it was for Venti, and if the cashier took one look at him, they’d probably understand.
Mercifully, he managed to avoid dropping it on the final stretch of walking back to his flat. He had his keys already — Venti had picked all of them up when he’d moved in At the start of summer, and had given them to Xiao in a fond farewell before he’d left Mondstadt, so it was no issue getting inside.
It was quiet as he trundled in, unlocking the door to his new room and debating whether it was worth unpacking now or later — before deciding it was better to unpack now before he got distracted by Venti’s return later. He didn’t have much with him - mainly just clothes and linen, alongside the necessary kitchenware to get by in a student house, so it only took him an hour or so to finish, tidying his suitcase away under his bed before heading back into the kitchen and placing the wine conspicuously in the fridge – which was predictably empty of actual food, save for a half-eaten, pre-packaged apple pie, some milk, and a bag of salad.
Then, it was just a matter of waiting.
He messaged his parents to pass the time, letting them know he’d gotten there safely, that he’d call them once a week like usual. Then, his fingers hovered for a minute over Aether’s contact information, and a sudden clarity struck him like a punch to the stomach. e’d been behaving before Venti had even walked in the door, what he was waiting for when Venti arrived.
God, what was he doing? He had a boyfriend. Boyfriend. He wasn’t a cheat. Would never dream of it – not willingly. His actual dreams didn’t count, he couldn’t control those.
But then, if he wasn’t a cheat, why did he come back early? Why did he lie to Aether about his reasoning?
He mulled over his terrible behaviour for forty-five minutes, berating himself for nursing his crush in part, and also for not working up the courage to call Aether in that moment.
But what was he supposed to say? “I’m about to cheat on you,” or, “I’m thinking about cheating on you,” or “I’ve had feelings for my flatmate for almost a year.” What good would saying any of that do?
No, he’d deal with it later. He could handle one dinner without things getting out of hand. He’d call Aether tomorrow, and try to explain himself, already dreading the response.
Some time after he’d reached that conclusion, he heard the lock on the front door turn, the grinding of metal as Venti attempted to insert his key — only to fumble twice, by the sounds of it. Silently, Xiao noted that the walls were thin. That wasn’t good; if any of his flatmates — if Venti — brought someone home, Xiao would probably hear it rather easily. He should have been more careful to check that detail when giving the apartment a look around before signing the lease.
At last, the door squeaked on its hinges and the quiet shuffling that was all too familiar to Xiao echoed through the linoleum-floored hallway, and Xiao felt his heartbeat rise to his ears as the footsteps neared.
The kitchen door opened, and in trudged Venti, and god, Xiao had missed seeing him in person. He swore the room lit up in his presence. It was a warm day, so he’d pinned his braids back against his head, and was, of course, in his usual scandalous attire of short shorts and stockings, today with a short-sleeved white shirt.
He glanced at him, and Xiao’s heart skipped a beat when they locked eyes, but, to his surprise, Venti simply smiled the way he always did when greeting a friend. “Oh, hiya.”
Xiao blinked back, confused. “Hi.”
Venti dumped the tote bag he’d been carrying on the kitchen island with a dramatic heave, before ducking down to open up a cupboard — Xiao noted with a quiet smile that he’d given himself the largest one — and pulling out a glass. Then, he walked over to the kitchen sink, back turned to Xiao as he filled up his glass and hummed to himself as the water reached just shy of the brim, taking a sip and sighing in satisfaction.
Then, he turned around again, locked eyes with Xiao once, twice, and Xiao at last watched the gears in Venti’s mind lock into place. His eyes widened impossibly, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs, and his mouth - glistening with moisture from his drink - gaped open like an adorable fish.
Xiao couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the smile on his face.
“Wait.. what?” Despite his confusion, Venti’s expression was quickly morphing into an ear-to-ear grin, eyes lighting up like stars. The glass of water he’d been drinking was placed haphazardly in the sink. “What are you doing here?”
“I came back early.” He shrugged, making a horrible attempt at feigning nonchalance for someone whose facial muscles weren’t used to smiling so widely, “Surprise?”
The shriek of delight Venti let out didn’t make it to his ears before Venti made it into his arms, almost knocking them both off the kitchen stool and onto the floor if not for Xiao’s quick reflexes.
If Venti noticed their instability, he didn’t react, only nuzzling himself into the crook of Xiao’s neck, breathing him in - if the heavy exhales ghosting his skin were anything to go by. As Xiao held him, just shy of his waist, and let him take all the time he needed, another flicker of guilt went through his mind.
Pushing it.
It was almost a relief when Venti pulled back, though he still had Xiao by the shoulders, and Xiao missed the warmth of his breath against his skin more than he felt guilty for his actions.
At least, like this, he could see Venti’s beautiful smile up close - the little dimples in his cheeks, the light freckles on his nose, the shades of blue and green in his eyes. “You’re really back, I can’t believe it, but… why?”
Xiao shrugged again, “I wanted to.”
“Your family got on your nerves that badly, huh?” He raised an eyebrow playfully.
“No, they’re great. I just wanted some independence again, I suppose.” God, Venti’s cheeks were adorable up close, and his excuse sounded so stupid out loud. Venti knew he had a boyfriend back home, with his own student flat, that he could escape to should he ever grow tired of his family.
“Hm, fair enough…” He considered, not suspecting anything amiss, apparently. “I think I’m just going to pretend you came back because you missed me.” He added with a wink.
“That too.” Xiao admitted all too easily, trying to keep the words casual. He was allowed to miss a close friend, right? It couldn’t give him away.
Venti’s smile grew softer, at that, and so was the laugh he let out - somewhere nestled between shyness and comfortability. Xiao wanted to bottle it and stow it away like a priceless wine, but could only make a halfhearted attempt at walking back from the intimacy they had quickly amassed themselves in with some casual conversation, unless he wanted to ruin his life by doing something rash.
“Have you had dinner yet?”
Venti shook his head, “Are you going to cook something?”
“I was going to order in for us -” He started, “but I can cook if you’d prefer that, I-”
“Takeout sounds good, you probably don’t have food yet, right?” Venti interrupted, probably sensing his inevitable tumble into listing out alternative options that Venti might prefer. He’d done it plenty of times before, embarrassingly. He left Xiao’s personal bubble at last to open the fridge. “Oh, what’s this?”
“To go with dinner.” Xiao explained, crossing his arms over himself and feeling cold all of a sudden, “We should go shopping for food tomorrow. What have you been surviving off all this time?”
“Ready meals and instant noodles, and my friends.” Venti grinned, taking out the wine bottle to inspect it. When he read the label, his eyebrows shot up in alarm, “Xiao, are you kidding? This stuff’s super expensive - how the hell did you afford it?”
“It’s fine.” He shrugged, “I wanted to, you said it’s one of the best.”
“But… it’s-”
“I wanted to.” He repeated reassuringly, “So, do you have any preference for the food tonight?”
Carefully, Venti placed the wine back in the fridge, shutting the door extra gently, “Well, let's just go for something cheap - I’ll pay, to make up for the wine.”
Xiao frowned, “No. I’m paying. Pick something you actually want - don’t worry about the price.”
“But-”
“I thought you enjoyed leeching off your rich friends?” He raised an eyebrow. It was a relatively new expression, apparently – according to his friends and family back home. He suspected the culprit he picked the action up from was standing right in front of him.
Venti rolled his eyes at his phrasing, “Well, yeah, but-”
“Then let me spoil you.” He insisted, and then froze, sucking in a breath at what he’d just said. At how he’d just said it. Too low pitched, too insistent, with too much adoration mixed in. Warmth blossomed up his neck, spilling onto his cheeks and adorning the tips of his ears, and he fought to reclaim his composure.
If Venti noticed, though, only a slight glimmer in his eyes at the words acted as an indication. He simply acquiesced with a smile like he’d just won a prize, and then hoisted himself up to sit on the kitchen island and peer over at Xiao’s phone screen as he began to scroll through restaurant options on his delivery app in an attempt to clear the atmosphere.
It didn’t take much deliberation, in the end. Venti’s disdain for melted cheese ruled out most pizza and pasta restaurants, and Xiao had had his fill of Liyuean cuisine back home, and didn’t much care for Mondstadt’s imitations that left something to be desired every time he tried them. So, they settled on an Inazuman sushi restaurant – since both of them liked fish.
Isn’t raw fish an aphrodisiac? He couldn’t help but think as they scrolled through the platter options, Venti leaning far too close for Xiao’s poor heart to handle. It was probably junk science, or a misrepresentation of some research paper’s title. But still, did Venti know about the myth? Would he think that Xiao was dropping a hint by pointing the restaurant out in the first place?
It wasn’t like he could ask. He was probably overthinking things, like usual. Venti had berated him for that habit before, so he did his best to file the thought away as they ordered – a modestly sized sushi and sashimi selection for them to share, and a tub of fancy-sounding ice cream for dessert – and then waited for their food to arrive.
That time passed all too quickly for Xiao’s liking. There was simply too much to discuss – or, rather – for Venti to discuss. It seemed like he’d kept his most entertaining stories from over the summer to himself, to wait for Xiao’s return in person and retell them in the way he loved most, with abrupt side-tracks every two minutes and lots of gesticulating.
As it happened, Venti had had a fairly eventful summer. Aside from frequent trips back to the countryside to see his parents, he’d thrown up in no less than four nightclubs, and twice in his own apartment. He’d attended several concerts; and alongside a group of friends attended a large, open-air festival out at Windrise, and gotten so muddy from the three day adventure that he’d had to bin the shoes he’d worn. He’d gone (“totally legally”) camping in the ruins of Old Mondstadt, and been chased by a horse when trying to put up the tent.
Xiao had to admit, he wasn’t paying as much attention beyond the key details of Venti’s stories, too busy drinking Venti’s presence up like a starving man might drink up water. He had missed his voice, crisp and melodic and unadulterated by the phone; his expressions, brimming with joy and exuberance; and his little quirks of movement. The flick of his wrists, the flex of his fingers as if plucking strings in the air. Xiao was mesmerised, and a little too caught up in the moment to care if he looked like it.
Forty-five minutes later, their meal arrived, and Venti’s tales came to a timely end as Xiao ventured down to collect it from the delivery driver and come back. It was then that, with the platter opened up on the kitchen island, and Venti sitting there eyeing it with a hunger Xiao wished was reserved for himself, he could finally open up the wine. He managed to uncork it without hitting anyone in the face with the cork (Venti had managed that, once, in his haste to open up a new bottle at a rather crowded party he’d been to. Xiao hadn’t gone, and only knew of the occasion on account of the black eye Venti had been sporting the next morning, which worried him to no end until he had his explanation.) He borrowed Venti’s wine glasses – another thrifted find by the pair of them – and filled Venti’s to the brim, just how he usually liked it. His own, he only filled halfway.
Just because he was more interested in sampling it, and not at all because he was a lightweight.
Again, the conversation flowed easily as they sat together and ate. Venti still had a rather questionable grasp on his chopsticks, so, of course, Xiao spent a minute or so with his hands wrapped around his, trying to readjust his grip so he’d stop dropping slices of fish into the soy sauce tub. With the way Venti was laughing, and the way he kept dropping the chopsticks as if they were slippery, Xiao desperately wanted to believe he was doing it on purpose. To keep them close and touching. But he got the hang of it, eventually, and Xiao had no choice but to let go and return to his own personal space.
The wine, as Venti kept relishing, was good. Really good. Sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste that could be cured quite easily by another sip; and a slightly citrusy burst on his tongue at the offset. Venti was slow with his, perhaps also taking the time to indulge his taste buds in the rare treat. Xiao found himself refilling his own glass to the brim, like Venti’s, after a few minutes, and made a mental note to buy it more often, and come up with a list of reasons why he would do so that wouldn’t expose him as horrendously down bad, or worse, risk him being seen as trying to pay his way into Venti’s pants.
He tried to keep himself distracted from the weight of his feelings by drinking, and paying attention to what Venti was saying, rather than how sweetly he spoke. Now, he seemed more interested in what Xiao had been up to. It was a miracle he managed to answer without stumbling over his words or forgetting everything he’d done for the past two months: the museum trips he took with his father and siblings, the hikes out to Jueyan Karst, their trip to the natural hot springs. Venti listened with wonder, and his amazement grew when Xiao pulled out his phone to show him the photos he took. He’d be lying if he said showing them to Venti hadn’t been his intention. He rarely took photos to document his activities, normally. His father had even noted the change, believing them to be to show his boyfriend.
Xiao hadn’t bothered to correct him.
“The scenery looks incredible, you can see for miles - even Dragonspine is visible!” Venti gushed, zooming in on the picture, “I wish I could go there myself.”
”I could take you, sometime. If you ever want to visit Liyue, you can stay with me.” Xiao said, once more forgetting to check his tone before he opened his mouth. Again, however, Venti didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
“I’d love that, actually. Maybe next summer, though I hope Aether won’t mind me stealing you for myself for a week or so. He can have you on Sundays.” He laughed, but Xiao didn’t follow suit. Rather, he reached for the wine bottle and poured himself another glass, this time filling it to the brim, and downed most of it in one, uncivilised go.
He hated when Venti brought up Aether. He should never have blabbed about having a boyfriend. In his defence, he’d only mentioned it because someone else had asked – or rather, started hitting on him in a bar and thus needed swiftly de-fanging, and Venti had happened to be there.
“Yeah…” He murmured, feeling the burn at the back of his throat and the tang on his tongue, before deciding that another glass was in order, and repeating the action.
Anything to get those words out of his head, to knock in the fact that Venti had been joking as he said them, or to get his reply “Can you steal me forever?” to drown at the back of his throat.
“Xiao…” Venti’s demeanor changed, all of a sudden. He sat up a little straighter, and his smile faded, replaced by a small, pensive looking frown and a knot between his eyebrows, “Did something happen to make you come back early? Between you and your boyfriend?”
The flat suddenly felt very, very quiet. Xiao swore he could hear the thrum of the lights above them, and the water running through the pipes of the flat above theirs. It was then that he realised how close they’d become. Venti’s stool had shuffled closer - somehow without squeaking against the linoleum and alerting him - and their legs were pressed together from the thigh to the knee, heat radiating in the space between their torsos.
Slowly, he set his wine glass down, and shuffled in his seat as if physical comfort could make approaching the question at all easier. Conspicuously, he kept himself pressed to Venti’s side after his adjustment.
Don’t do it.
Don’t say it.
Don’t be a fucking cheat.
He chose his next words very, very carefully. Well, he tried his best to. The fourth glass of wine had clearly been a mistake. “...I should probably break up with him.”
And then Venti pulled back, blinking in surprise, and took his elbows off the counter and buried them in his lap. “Oh. I’m sorry, I assumed you’d already-”
“It’s fine.” He insisted, staring at the empty wine glass as he twirled it on the table between his thumb and index finger, wishing he wasn’t tipsy so he could deal with the situation with a level head. “I just wanted to have dinner with you, I didn’t think it would get so…”
“Intimate?” Venti broached, and the word alone left Xiao’s cheeks reddening. He wasn’t particularly good with his words - not compared to Venti, anyway – but he was pretty sure there were a few other choices that might have been less implicatory, and wouldn’t have entered his consciousness like a kick to the heart. ‘Vulnerable’ came to mind. But not ‘intimate’ – that implied something that Xiao was increasingly less certain was only felt one-sidedly.
Not daring to react any other way, he gave a limp shrug, “I suppose.”
Another bout of horrid silence followed, this time oppressive enough that Xiao was certain it had its own gravity, with the way he felt so heavy.
And maybe it was affecting Venti, too, as he bent over the table and heaved a dramatic sigh.
“... Why’d you have to have a boyfriend?” He pouted, “I was sooo smitten in the first week - and then you had to come out with it.”
The world came crashing in on Xiao, a cacophony of blood in his ears as his pulse screeched to a halt for one, stomach-swooping moment. He blinked, glanced towards his friend, still sprawled out, and then away as heat overtook his face.
No, he must have misheard Venti. He wouldn’t… surely not?
“Uh… Sorry?” Was all he could say, mouth too preoccupied with hanging agape in stupor.
“It’s okay,” Venti sighed again, staring forlornly at the empty wine bottle on the table, seemingly oblivious to Xiao’s turmoil, “just… whatever happens, I hope things work out for you. If you need break-up ice cream, or a break up drink, it’ll be my treat. I’m not going to try to swoop in and woo you amidst all that.”
He didn’t walk it back. He didn’t take it back. He had feelings for me. He liked me too.
Any honour or dignity or sense of respect for his current partner flew out of the window at that realisation. Venti liked him. That was all that mattered. The only thing that mattered in the entire world. But, oh, he respected Xiao too. Ever the bigger person, the gentleman, when he needed to be. For once, though, he wished Venti would give in and be selfish. The future he seemed to present for Xiao: twelve golden retrievers and some white-picket fantasy with Aether, left much to be desired. Notably: it was missing one dark-haired, blue eyed, blue-braided light of Xiao’s life for the past year.
But his head was slow with the alcohol slowly snaking through his bloodstream, and his mouth slower still, and he was far too overwhelmed with the gravity of the situation to produce much coherent speech, so rather than a passionate return of Venti’s confession, all he could manage was a dumbfounded:
“...Huh?”
“I didn’t want to screw up your long term relationship by confessing back then. If you’re planning on breaking up with him, I wouldn’t want to intrude on that situation by adding more drama to the situation and making a move.” Venti elaborated, as if he could extrapolate what Xiao meant from his confused noise – and god, was he a better person than Xiao could ever be. If it had been Venti in a relationship, he would probably grovel at his feet for the opportunity of becoming his secret side-piece, even if Venti had no intentions of ending his relationship. “It’s a little late to return the wine, but I’ll pay you back for it, eventually. Only half. Forty percent, actually. I can’t believe you had more to drink than me.”
Xiao shook his head loosely, shutting his eyes in a bid to stop the spinning sensation, “No… I’m paying, and… I’m not sure if us staying friends is going to work. It won’t be the same.”
“Well, we’re friends now, and we’ll still be friends.” Venti cocked his head to the side, eyes innocent and endearing, “So it’s the same, no?”
“You’re going to act different, though. I know it…” Xiao couldn’t help but pout, just a little. He’d blame that on the wine. He moved closer to Venti, and that drew the latter’s stature straight and to attention, eyes darting about Xiao’s features, before settling on his eyes, apparently finding something in them.
Then, just for an instant, his gaze dipped lower, towards his lips.
It was like living on autopilot, watching his body act without permission. This wasn’t like Xiao – not at all. Xiao was a good boyfriend; a loyal, devoted, polite and caring boyfriend. That’s what Aether told him.
But god, he was sick of Aether telling him things. He felt guilty, of course he did, even now, sidling up to his best friend, his flatmate, the person he always wanted to be with, morning, evening and night. “Venti…”
You shouldn’t be doing this.
Doing what?
This isn’t right.
But it felt right. The room was warm, his body was warm, Venti was warm. Xiao had never been happier, the alcohol in his system dispensing of the majority of his reservations. It was bound to happen eventually: him getting too close to Venti to turn back. What difference did a day make? He’d nursed his feelings for his friend for almost a year, now. How was that any worse than the mere act of pursuing him, when he’d been fantasising about it for so long?
In the end, he found his only source of guilt was that he hadn’t done Aether the decency of breaking up with him before he’d returned to Mondstadt.
They were close now, leaning into each other’s bodies as if drawn through some magnetic force. The air was thick with something syrupy and electric, raising goosebumps along Xiao’s arm, and all the while he took in Venti’s features with a gaze he had tried to disguise for too long. Velvety, pale skin; glistening, deep eyes; pretty, pretty lips…
Venti saw it. Xiao let him see his inner monologue, his desire, bleeding out of him like ink over paper. He didn’t move, but as if in reply, his own eyes shifted their focus lower as they darkened; and a hunger seemed to slowly overtake him, bringing out the deeper, navy hues in his eyes and blowing the pupils wider.
His lips quivered as he opened them; a rare show of hesitation, but when he spoke, something dangerous and low and certain slithered through the timbre of his voice. “I need a stronger drink. Fancy one?”
Xiao swallowed dryly, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight before him, “Please.”
The distance between them stretched once more, leaving Xiao wobbling on the kitchen stool, watching keenly as Venti went over to one of the cupboards.
He pulled out a bottle of vodka - the cheap stuff, nothing fancy, and not a particularly big bottle, either. But it was still sealed, still. He wondered how long Venti had had it – probably not very long, considering how much and how regularly he could drink. Two shot glasses came out several moments later – teal green and mint, Xiao remembered picking them out at a thrift store he and Venti had visited in the second week of living together, after a small flat party ended with one particularly drunk friend of Venti’s smashing the set he’d owned previously. Xiao had pestered him to pay Venti back for two weeks straight before he finally relented.
The glasses were filled quickly, and not a drop of vodka was spilled thanks to Venti’s deft hands. He downed his shot immediately from the mint glass, and went back for more only a second later. Xiao watched his adam's apple bob with the motion, before his gaze fell to the second shot glass in front of him on the table, and he didn’t get round to sniffing the acid-like substance within it until Venti was on his third round.
“Slow down.”
“I’m just trying to get to your level, relax.” Venti’s voice flowed smooth and balmy through the air, lubricated by the alcohol, “You know I can handle it.”
Xiao hummed, throwing his shot back with far less expertise and far more of a wince than Venti. It burned at the back of his throat the moment he swallowed, and the taste was bitter to the point that – if he didn’t know better – he would have thought he’d just drank poison.
In fairness, it wasn’t like alcohol wasn’t poisonous. He’d had that debate with Venti already, though, so instead of complaining about the taste, simply held his glass out again for Venti to refill, who raised an eyebrow at the action.
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please.” He answered at once, feeling his cheeks warm again as Venti filled his glass once more, a twinkle in his eye at his obedience.
Venti took five or six more – Xiao wasn’t entirely sure. He kept getting distracted as his mind wandered through the unspoken tension that encapsulated the moment. He himself only took three more, before Venti cut him off with the very compelling reasoning that he didn’t want him to lose his inhibitions to the point of complete incapacity, and forget everything that might happen. Might happen. If he was good, maybe; or if he managed to win Venti over, somehow. If he was such a terrible person that he could act on his fantasies.
After his final shot, Venti set the glass down rather forcefully on the table, and let out a contented sigh as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. When his eyes fell on Xiao, they shone with a mix of loose, wine-addled satisfaction and intention, and Xiao could only swallow around the warmth still lingering in his throat, lest he end up drooling at the sight.
He really should stop here, some part of him pleaded, and keep up his false sense of honour and simply accept that he’d had an emotional affair, and go no further until he’d taken care of the matter. But he was powerless against the forces at play in that moment – Venti reciprocating his feelings, the alcohol in their blood, and his own desire, all mingling to create the recipe for his destruction.
So instead, he leant back a little, spread his legs a little further apart, pulled his shoulders back - slight adjustments, yes, but the message they communicated was clear.
And god, was it effective.
Something snapped between them, and suddenly Venti had pounced into the space created between his thighs as if he had a right to be there, and the sheer hunger on his usually soft, carefree features lit a match in Xiao’s stomach that had him careening off a cliff and losing the last shreds of his restraint.
He would never be the same after seeing such a sight.
Barely able to recover from the loss of his reason, Venti took Xiao’s face in one hand, calluses rough against his cheek, and pulled him close, until there were mere centimetres between them; and he whispered into that small space with a voice full of promise: “We blame this on the alcohol, and then you break up with him tomorrow, yeah?”
Xiao’s eyes widened, trying to come to terms with the bargain through the haze of alcohol. “I- I don’t know how.”
“Figure it out tomorrow.” Venti’s voice was soothing, as was the thumb he brushed gently in circular motions against his skin, “You want this tonight, don’t you? That’s why you came back.”
Shamefully, he lowered his head. It was true, of course it was. There was no other explanation for his reckless actions: leaving his family, leaving his boyfriend, and lying about why; only to saunter back to Venti with a spring in his step, expensive wine and an indulgent meal. That wasn’t friendship — friendship could never require such deceit, nor could it explain the sheer desire flowing through Xiao’s veins in that moment. “Please don’t tell him.”
“Our little secret, no one needs to know.” He winked, fingers already probing at the hem of Xiao’s sweater - not quite a pull, but far from idle. “We’re a whole country away.”
Swallowing, Xiao watched the pink of Venti’s tongue dart out from between his lips, the sparkling sheen of saliva left behind drawing him in like a fish to a lure. He felt the warmth of Venti’s hand slide up to the nape of his neck, toying with the baby hairs there, shifting between a tight, possessive hold and something loose and coy.
“Now… your room or mine?”
Xiao didn’t remember giving his mouth permission to answer, but heard the words fall out of him regardless; slow and airy, as if entranced. “Mine… I like you in my bed… Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely, how could I possibly refuse?”